Fleet Captain Taybrim - Like a Sponge (Tags: DeVeau/Maxwell)

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Jamie LeBlanc

Nov 28, 2020, 1:04:39 AM11/28/20
to SB118

((Temple of the Prophets – StarBase 118))

As the ceremony came to a close, Sal Taybrim felt a heady wave of positive emotion wash over him.  The crowd’s enthusiasm was infectious, especially for an empath.

Glasses were raised and the toast marked the official opening.  The Spring wine was unusually sweet, but tasty.  He could feel a bit of a buzz and thought nothing of it.

The gathering spread apart, as the ceremony opened into a massive celebration of food, drink and cheer.  Exactly the sort of atmosphere Sal Taybrim loved soaking up and soaking in.

Maxwell: Peldor Joi, captain.

He turned towards Max, smiling happily, dark eyes sparkling.

Taybrim: Peldor Joi, Max!

Moments later the smiling face of Alora joined them.  Sal could feel his head spin lightly in a very pleasant way as the joy of the festival kept increasing around them.

DeVeau: Captain, Max. I hope y’all are enjoying yourselves.

Maxwell: Aye, grand. I trust that you are too?

Taybrim: So far I have found this a wonderfully pleasant festival.  Have you explored the temple yet?

Perhaps a foolish question since they had only had a few minutes since the end of the ceremony, but knowing Alora’s extremely inquisitive nature not one out of the realm of possibility.

DeVeau: I’ve not seen everything yet, but I did do a renewal scroll.

Taybrim: Oh excellent!  ::He turned towards Max:: Have you done a scroll yet, Max?

Maxwell: Me? Aah, no. ::He glanced between the other two.:: No my kind ae thing really.

The heat of the place seemed to rise slightly in a rather pleasant way, and without noticing the trio drew closer together. Betazoid culture allowed people to be very physically close together without raising any question of impropriety, it was something he had learned to adjust for with other species, many of which developed an instinctual need for greater personal space.  But he actively enjoyed the closeness, not even noticing it until Alora reached up to sweep a stray piece of hair away.

His first thought was that his hair never really listened to him – or anyone.  A common thought, but an odd one at a time like this.

Belatedly he realized that a fellow crew member was doing something that, while perfectly comfortable for his species was a bit out of place for hers.  His brow furrowed, trying to reach out empathically but feeling an overwhelming sense of joy, pleasure and… attraction?  Yes, attraction from the crowd around him.  When empathy failed him he chose words instead.

Taybrim: Alora?  ::he queried gently.:: Everything ok?

She drew her hand back and her smile faded and for a moment he saw her hand shake before the glass crashed to the floor.

Maxwell: Alora?

His ginger brows furrowed in concern, even as an acolyte moved in to clear up the mess before anyone could be hurt or even see it.

He offered a hand towards her, trying to stabilize his own swimming senses.  The build up had been slow and he had accepted the rising feelings of love, attraction, happiness and joy from the crowd beyond.  But he was concerned about those directly around him

Taybrim: I didn’t mean to startle you.  ::he murmured.:: Are you ok?

DeVeau: ?

An odd response.  Max was quicker on the uptake than Sal was today.  Maybe that was the fact that Sal was picking up the emotions of a crowd which was distracting enough.  And then his own mind served to be distracted.

Maxwell: Are you alright? ::He stepped back again as an Acolyte swept in, brushing up the glass.:: Thank you.

DeVeau: ?

Taybrim: I’m not bothered.  ::He said gently, reassuringly.::

DeVeau/Maxwell: ?

Could he feel something?  Different?  From her?  From everyone?  For himself?  So hard to tell.

Taybrim: No… the win isn’t very strong…

His hand was on her shoulder, she felt hot.  Not hot in a fevered way, just warm, like a Risian beach.  Was that normal?  Sal Taybrim was not the sort of person to question normal.  So why did the question pop into his mind now?

DeVeau/Maxwell: ?

Taybrim: ::Smiling, despite his worry.:: No, the crowd is very happy.  Pleasant.  An almost overwhelming outpouring of emotions.

And like a sponge he was soaking it all in.

DeVeau/Maxwell: ?


Fleet Captain Sal Taybrim
Comanding Officer
StarBase 118 Ops


"Why do we fly? Because we have dreamt of it for so long that we must"

~Julian Beck

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