Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau "Wake Me Up When It's All Over"
Amanda Nordstrom
OOC:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsYXnH9lzCY
((Starbase 118 Ops))
It was rare for Alora not to venture from her room, but it
happened on occasion. Usually, she was up early, out early,
at work early. But shore leave had come upon them, a respite
from the stress of their occupation, a chance to heal either
physically, mentally, or both from the mission.
On that particular day, it had been half spent at home.
Graduation was that day, but Alora hadn’t planned on
attending. She had no one whom she was particularly close to
graduating, nor was she proctoring any exams for the class
that would graduate after. She allowed herself to linger, to
while away hours doing various things. Kata forms allowed her
to fall into an almost mindless state, her body moving in
specific ways as it had done for over twenty years. She
didn’t think through it all. She didn’t have to.
Music, too, brought her into a strange sense of consciousness
that didn’t quite touch reality. Piano, guitar, Vulcan harp,
each was touched upon, practised, and played without really
thinking, her fingers dancing in a choreography that was
familiar and comfortable.
It was only after lunch that she decided to emerge from the
cave-like existence of the day. Dressing casually, a simple
t-shirt and trousers, sturdy tennis shoes for walking, she
made her way into the hallway. The lift doors opened to
receive her as she approached, welcoming her inside, it hummed
a gentle tuneless song as it took her to her destination.
When they parted, she moved out, not really looking where she
was going. She only took a couple of steps when she came to a
sudden halt.
It was raining.
It streamed from above, milky grey clouds hanging low in the
‘sky’ above her. They tapped upon her head, some beating upon
her skin, others nestling in her long hair. Blinking, Alora
tilted her head up to gaze above her. The water continued
without hesitation, unmindful of how much it soaked everything
in its wake. Invisible against the silvery clouds, it
physically seemed to appear out of nowhere once it descended
further down, just before striking whatever was in its way.
She was unprepared, and yet she remained there, frozen,
staring above her at the strange manifestation of weather,
synthetic and yet real, as if trying to convince her she was
not actually on a station. Emerald eyes shut themselves off
from the world, and for a moment all was dark. Though she
could not see, she could feel the wetness slowly spreading
over her. One hand lifted up, the drops lightly dancing upon
it, beads coalescing on her finger tips, then sliding down
like sleds to pool upon her palm. Inhaling, the air was
thick, but not suffocating. The rate of the rain’s descent
increased and with it came a rhythm, steady, beating out a
tune. In answer, her feet began to move.
They carried her forward, slowly at first, then within
increasing speed. Those eyes manifested themselves once more,
blinking beneath dark lashes, emeralds set within the
pearlescent frame of her face. The motion struck against the
water gathered upon the ground. One foot lifted, then
another, then in unison, launching her into the air, only to
plummet down. Onward they drove her, only to catapult her
upward once again. They clapped down, sending a shower of
water all about, and she in the center of the momentary
fount.
Again she thrust into the air, then down again. Up and down,
rising and falling, over and over, the motion repeated and the
burst of spray from every descent gleefully dancing in
response to her forceful encouragement. Both hands lifted up
with each launch, rising to greet the descending
precipitation. She traversed forward and around, darting from
one side to a song only she could hear.
Onward, deeper into the heart of the sector, thrusting forward
into the streets which, while not empty, held only a fraction
of the normal traffic. Thus, she continued unimpeded, the
only direction that of closer to the heart of the station.
She tilted her head back, mouth opening wide, caught some of
the offerings and then let out a peal of laughter. She
participated in a sport of one, and the rules were known only
to her, the collected pools her playground. Her arms lowered
only to thrust out to the sides and the rhythm shifted. She
spun, around and around, still splashing about, the water
seeped deep into her clothing, but she was unmindful of it,
uncaring of the way they and hair clung to her.
With dizzying speed she launched into a run, jumping, darting
through, forward, onward, the hardness of the streets suddenly
replaced with the gentler hand of grass as she slipped from
paved avenue to grassy esplanade. With a squeal she began to
run, slowly at first, feet pounding out that rhythm in her
head. Then faster and faster, the trees and grasses, the
flowers with their bright displays turning into a blur of
colour that she passed by. She picked up speed, darting from
one side to the other, driving around each sentinel, passing a
second, a third, all melting together in a blur of motion, her
breath fast and high. Muted silver and darkened blue rose up
to meet her and she came to a halt, spinning once more beside
the lake that greeted her with its gentle, hushed song that
melded with her own.
The ground was soft, parts of grass overrun with more pools
and her feet found them, sending more spray as she leaped into
the air and careened down into them. Her hair whipped about,
the dark tresses stark against the pink of her cheek and the
pale of her jaw. Then she threw herself down upon the ground,
arms and legs splayed out, face turned to the sky that
continued to open the gates, unmindful of the woman below. A
sound escaped, low, deep, guttural, rising in pitch. Among
the pounding of that rain, its tune was muddled. Was it a
gleeful howl? Or a wail of sorrow? Any witness would be
unable to tell, and a vision of the woman thrust upon the
floral carpet beneath her would seem to revel in the moment,
her chest heaved with either laughter or cries, and any tears
that might have given any indication as to the truth were lost
among the traces of the rain that scattered over her face.
-- Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau First Officer Starbase 118 Ops al...@blar.net M239008AD0