JP- Lt Cmdr DeVeau & Ensign Yael- "The Hats We Wear" (P2)
Amanda Nordstrom
<<OOC- This takes place after Ashley is released from Sickbay but before "Breaking Bad".>>
((Starbase 118 Ops - Verriars Establishment & Bar)) Alore leaned back, almost tipping off the stool. Wait...a hooligan in the holodeck? Trudging in after closing...days prior? Unless Ashley had done something on the holodeck with someone else... Verriar: I thought for sure he was going to order a *real* drink for once! For all the time he spends in my lovely establishment, he sure is a *non* drinker. ::she leaned in even closer, and got quieter:: I think he’s far too hard on himself, personally. ::then she nudged Alora gently with one free wrist tapping her hand:: I *wish* he’d be harder on *me!*
Verriar burst out laughing and slid a drink that had seemed to pour itself while she spoke down the bar to an Orion who was tapping for another ale. DeVeau: Yeah. Alora accepted the glass and turned to gaze over Ashley as he played at the tongo table. She sipped the second one much more slowly, mulling over what the woman had told her. So what exactly had happened? Why had he gone to sick bay? Was she the hooligan? Timewise, from what she could glean of what was said, said ‘hooligan’ would have been her. A rib? Punctured his lung? Yael: ::slipping back into the seat:: It was no good. Lost ten credits. I should know better than to play *these* tables. He grinned at Verriar as she gave him a warning glance and a dramatically threatening point of a finger not to besmirch her classy joint, then took a drink of his tea. Alora set the glass down as Ashley returned. The humour had vacated, the smile had disappeared, and all that was left were the shadows of worry that darkened her face. DeVeau: Why didn’t you tell me I sent you to Sickbay? Nearly choking on the drink he was taking, he set the glass down just a little harder than he’d planned and glanced over to her, amethyst eyes surprised when they met her green. Yael: ::swallowing the tea and his surprise:: *You* didn’t. The *wall* did. He smiled, but refused to laugh at his terrible distinction before becoming slightly more serious. Yael: I didn’t want to derail what was happening for you. If you’re worried about me, I become part of the constant noise that distracts you. ::pausing, glancing at Verriar and musing more quietly now:: She’s usually a bank vault with secrets. DeVeau: Maybe she thinks you needed something. Alora allowed another sip of her drink before adding. DeVeau: You aren’t noise. Ashley glanced down into the half glass of tea remaining. DeVeau: Nobody is. No one I know and care about, nothing I do is just /noise/. It’s all a part of a symphony, a beautiful wonderful melody and harmony that runs through my life. Not just noise. He seemed about to say something, thinking on it at first, when Verriar drifted near to them again and swiped the empty glasses they’d finished. Verriar: You shouldn’t pretend, darling. ::to the Denobulan:: You *loved* the noises those handsome Klingons made. She was chuckling as she teased him, but his face fell when he realized what secret she was about to spill now, and for a moment… a fraction of a moment… Verriar knew she’d hit a boundary. Verriar: They do so much *grunting* when they drink. And those Andorians over there squawk like birds, and the Ferengi are *terrible* at chattering. ::she continued, muting the impact of her original statement by making it seem as if she’d been joking, and then she spoke quietly to them both, but with more genuine kindness than she’d had before:: You’re wound too *tightly* my dear. Go home. Get some sleep. ::then to Alora:: Escort him, darling. That’s an order from Verriar herself. Alora wasn’t dumb, and she wasn’t as naive as she had been when she had first graduated the academy. She also hadn’t missed the implication. Yet, she also wasn’t going to rib Ashley for it. Everyone had their secret desires, their shameful habits. She knew about that all too well. Alora finished off her tea and leveled her gaze at Ashley. DeVeau: You know what that means, right? Yael: ::a hand running over his eyes, then speaking beneath his breath:: Please tell me you don’t. ::louder then:: What does that mean? Of course she did, and Alora quirked her mouth to the side - too obvious an indication that she did - then rolled her eyes. DeVeau: It means I have to escort you home, make sure you are actually there, and stand guard until you’re asleep. Cause if I don’t, that woman will have my hide. The Terellian grinned and moved away from them, clearing the empty glasses on the bar down the way.
Verriar cared about Ashley, even with the joking around, that much was far too obvious. In that, she and Alora had something in common. Yael: ::pausing, then nodding:: Nobody fails to listen to Verriar. He took down the last of his iced tea, though it was mostly melted into just tea by that point, and slid off his bar stool. Even though Verriar hadn’t charged them, he left a dozen credits on the bar anyway… he always paid, not wanting to take advantage, and wanting to keep the Terellian in a good mood. DeVeau: I like her. I may have to come down here just to visit her. Alora commented lightly as she followed Ashley’s lead. She took up pace beside him, casting a sidelong glance in his direction. As they stepped outside, the coolness of the air hit them, as if it really was evening in autumn. A gentle breeze tugged at their faces and played with Alora’s hair. The night was still young, technically speaking, but Alora had a feeling Ashley really needed to call it. Yael: She’s pure latinum. ::he nodded in agreement, tired eyes closing for a moment as he walked:: That’s why I go there. I mean, she’s like… ninety percent the reason. She has this knack for knowing just what people need. And also what drinks to pour them, too. DeVeau: Well, I can see why you go. Like I said, I’m gonna have to come back. Don’t be surprised if you run into me there.
Verriar’s wasn’t exactly Alora’s style of place, but if she could get a non alcoholic drink and make a new friend, it was worth visiting.
The night was just picking up, and more people poured into the commercial sector, adding a murmur to the general hum of the ship, each in tune with the other. I was a pleasant sound, one that was becoming increasingly familiar. It was a mark of home. DeVeau: Maybe you should listen to her more often. Yael: And what about you? Who do *you* listen to? He set tired purple eyes on her and gave her A Look that said “take your own advice, woman.” DeVeau: He’s not here. Alora paused in front of the turbolift just long enough to trigger the doors and she slipped inside after Ashley entered. Yael: Habitat Ring. Deck 938. The doors closed behind them and the lift almost imperceptibly moved. They rode in silence for a moment. He gave her a glance that seemed almost amused, despite his fatigue and mood. He did feel better after socializing a little. Even if Verriar had a big mouth. Yael: You know, I *can* get home all by myself. DeVeau: I know. But Verriar commanded it, so I must obey. Yael: ::with humor:: Aye, ma’am. Lieutenant Commander, sir. DeVeau: Don’t make me smack you upside the head. I’ll send you back to Sickbay. He only laughed lightly, but flinched and stopped himself. He was still laughing on the inside, where the parts didn’t hurt. Yael: Don’t make me laugh. And don’t hit me, please. DeVeau: If you want to use my rank when you’re wearing the Counselor hat, that’s fine, I get it. But not when you’re wearing the friend hat. The friend hat uses just Alora. Yael: Yes, ma’... ::he stopped and smiled before committing the offense:: .. Alora. The lift stopped and he led the way to 42A, his single occupancy standard efficiency quarters. They were perfect for him, size-wise, and had a good view from the port windows. It was still rather immaculate… he hadn’t bothered decorating. There was just a pile of data pads on the dining table, and a couple more next to his computer on the coffee table next to the couch. Clearly he was living inside the data for his upcoming study, and hoarding it. Aside that, the only change happened to be the bed, which was rather stuffed with extra pillows and blankets, though they were arranged in some semblance of order. It was one multi-use space, bedroom, dining, and living, though the restroom was apart. Denobulans *were* nesters, after all. On the window sill sat a lonely but apparently well nourished plant, the lone living thing in the room save its occupant, who tapped for messages at his computer as the door closed behind them. As always, with the next thing in mind, and the bed and his fatigue out of mind. Alora hadn’t expected such a small space. She felt like she’d walked into Cadet quarters, the kind that the rare senior year cadet received when they didn’t have a roommate. Well, not everyone wanted an expanse of room. Personally, she liked having that much space - it meant she could grow more plants and fill it up.
DeVeau: Cute. Who’s your decorator? Yael: Unfortunately, I’m not much of one. This has everything I need though. ::pausing, he glanced up:: They wanted to give me this *massive* set of quarters. Two separate bedrooms, work space, full kitchen. Waaay too much “extra” for just me. DeVeau: Well, I am grateful for the space for my plants. Yael: I don’t spend much time here, when you break down the bits and piec- A huge yawn took him away from his finishing the words he had in mind, and he leaned over on the table, one hand over his mouth and the other reaching up to his ribcage. Yael: ::grunting:: They said that it might hurt for a while… ::he paused, then looked up to Alora::... I never once asked if you were okay. DeVeau: A little sore, but fine. Once again, her expression fell and worry replaced it.
DeVeau: I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I would never do so intentionally. Yael: ::waving a hand in her direction:: Don’t even apologize. Neither of us knew that would happen. We could have *both* been hurt… I did have some few stern words with the engineer who helped me “bug” it. He’s going to install some limiters to keep it from imploding again, so it’ll be safe for you to use. DeVeau: Okay. It won’t implode, but will it /ex/plode? Alora managed a half smile, then it dropped again.
DeVeau: So this might be crossing from one hat to another, but I still just don’t get the point of this. Ashley shook his head negatively as he sank into the couch, picking up one of the errant data pads and loading the screen as he set a leg up on the coffee table, then the other crossed over it at the ankle. Yael: You mean the orb sessions? ::looking up from the pad:: It’s partially an experiment. I think it could be useful to you, if you give it a chance. But I can’t predict what the results might be. He yawned again, the data pad catching his attention again. It was some psycho-babble of a mess about the pre-frontal cortex of the Vulcan brain and how it altered fundamental behavioral trends. DeVeau: Right. He closed his eyes for only a moment, and was gone by the end of her speaking. The data pad was still in his hand but laying against his thigh, arm propped up on the arm rest. He’d hardly moved on falling asleep, his head resting just very slightly inclined on the back of the couch, and his breathing was relaxed and easy. Alora shook her head, feeling a sense of deja vu. She’d been in a similar situation not all that long ago - twice in fact. This seemed to be a trend. The scientist leaned down and plucked the PADD from the man’s hand, then tugged off his boots - yet another sense of deja vu. Taking the covers off of his bed, she drew them over to the couch and lay them over the man before heading toward the door. DeVeau: Computer. Lights. The computer complied, plunging them in darkness until Alora approached the doors. They parted, a beam of light cutting across the couch briefly until they closed once more, leaving the Denobulan alone with his dreams. *********** Ensign Ashley Yael Counselor Starbase 118 Ops C238211TZ0 & ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau Science Officer Starbase 118 Ops M239008AD0 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~