Lt JG Sera - Who knew Karaoke was a Vulcan word meaning "To Suffer"?
Hope Forster
Sera regained her physical composure by sheer force of will. She had heard of the beverage before but had never had a logical rationale to ever ingest the beverage…until now. How was she to know that it burned like The Fires?!
Sera: ::absolutely not peeved in ANY way, shape, or form:: Why would I be resistant to a substance I have never ingested? Your comment is illogical, Intelligence Officer Tito.
Sherlock: That's a new one on me. I thought you'd be able to handle it. ::shrugging:: Guess not.
Tender: Hey!
A rather tall skinny fellow came from the back of the bar with a tray full of bottles. His tone appeared to be…aggressive? Had they done something grossly inappropriate? Wait…it was the whiskey, wasn’t it?
Tender: If you want something, then you ask me. This is not a self-serve establishment! And if you brought it, then you need to leave it. This is also not a byob!
Sherlock: You're just a bundle of joy, aren't ya?
Sera: ::to anyone, really:: What is byob? And we are quite fortunate then computer karaoke bar employee. We brought only ourselves…I…I think.
DeVeau raised her hands at the bartender and smiled.
DeVeau: Please forgive us, we didn’t see you and it’s been a long time since we’ve been able to hang…you know what, forget it. Computer, reset bartender.
Tito: Easy solution DeVeau
Sherlock: Sometimes, I wish you could do that in real life.
Sera: Indeed.
Truer words had never been spoken. If such a flight of fancy could be carried forth to it’s illogical conclusion, then Sera’s first year that academy would have been completely reprogrammed.
DeVeau: Now…where were we. Oh yes…get drinks, sing songs.
Tito: Is there a selection, or do we have to find out our own songs?
Sherlock: ::glaring at Tito:: oOYou're encouraging this?Oo ::turning back to DeVeau:: Please say we have some choices.
DeVeau: There’s a wide assortment of songs, even Vulcan ones…
Tito shot a glance at Sera, and Aine did similarly.
Sera’s expression was completely blank, which in her case meant she was working furiously to maintain her control. This really was a psych stress eval.
Sera: How…fortuitous.
DeVeau: As for going first, I feel like since it was my idea, I should *not* go first. But if y’all would prefer, we can draw straws.
Tito: I honestly don’t see the logic in that.
Sherlock: It's a game of chance, don't be scared.
Sera: ::looking between the three officers:: Straws? A game of chance? What does a thin hollow tube used for sucking liquid from a glass or bottle have to do with this? ::looking down to her comm badge:: Is the Universal Translator malfunctioning?
Sera was defaulting to parroting back what she was hearing in outright confusion. When humans gathered into groups it usually devolved into social interactions Sera found incomprehensible.
DeVeau: response
Tito: Since you forced us on this social exercise, I believe you should be the one to start. But like the song goes it’s your party. Why don’t either Sherlock and Sera go first, since they warmed up their throats.
Sherlock: ::opening her mouth as if she were about to yell at Tito:: You can... ::pausing and taking a second to think about what she was about to say:: ...count on us.
Sera: You propose I lead a Terran activity in which I have no prior knowledge or experience with? ::exhaling through her nose resolving herself:: Very well. I will volunteer to lead this exercise if that is…everyone’s preference.
Confusion reigned.
DeVeau: response
Sera: Well, karaoke is similar to a Vulcan word which means ‘to suffer.’
Sera restrained herself from getting up and walking out of the holodeck and personally ejecting herself out of the nearest airlock. Just barely.
DeVeau: response
Sera: No. A…joke.
Everyone else was irrational; she could make the argument that it was only logical to join in.
Aine took the bottle back from Sera and took another heavy swig then all but shoved it back in Sera's direction.
Sera grabbed the bottle as Sherlock slid it back across the table after taking another heavy swig. She retrieved it before it had a chance to tumble off the surface and on the floor. Sera tilted her head slightly to the side in a considering manner as she regarded Sherlock. The human woman’s behavior was transforming in an unexpected manner. She looked down at the bottle in her hands with vague suspicion.
Tito: Then why don’t we all start. Isn’t there a song we can all sing?
Sherlock: ::sarcastically:: Row, Row, Row Your Boat?
Sera: ::to Sherlock:: What? Are you unwell?
Perhaps the solution to this was more of the whiskey? Sera raised the bottle and took another pull imitating Sherlock’s actions. Oh, the taste and sensation weren’t any better this second time, but she at least was prepared. Sera might be Vulcan, but she did not enjoy being the source of others’ entertainment either.
DeVeau: response
Tito: response
Sherlock: I have an idea.
DeVeau: response
Sherlock: Since we have Vulcan songs, and a variety of Terran songs...why don't we all sing a song from where we come from?
Sera: ::wondering if she drank all the whisky perhaps something miraculous would happen and she would require say…emergency medical treatment?:: My people are not known for popular music, Lieutenant.
DeVeau/Tito: response
Sherlock: I think that might be fun oOTo hearOo.
DeVeau/Tito: response
Sherlock: ::acting with a little bravado and shaking her head:: Ey ain afray.
Pushing the bottle back to the center of the table, Sera stood. It was logical to simply get this…over with.
Sera: Very well, Lieutenant Sherlock. I am certain that my selection will give you all vast insight to who I am psychologically.
DeVeau/Tito: response
She walked up and climbed the two steps onto the dais. She walked over to the small table that held a box-like device that had an LCARS viewscreen and began tapping around on it looking at what offerings were available.
Both of her brows rose. The only way this could get any worse would be if someone decided to order it to rain in the karaoke lounge.
Sera: These songs are regional…I don’t know any of them…and…they are funeral dirges. ::peeved in Vulcan:: Who designed this program?
Sherlock: response
Sera whipped her head up and looked over at the tactical officer who appeared to be having far too much fun than what was warranted. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly.
Sera: You…want me…to sing something I know?
Sherlock/Tito/DeVeau: response
Resignation.
Sera: oO You must endure. Do what you set out to do and get off the stage. Oo It will be without musical accompaniment. There are no melodies that align with the song I know.
Sherlock: response
Sera: oO This is revenge for winning The Game…I know it. Oo Very well.
Ser stepped in front of the microphone and tapping it to ensure that it was working appropriately. It was. Fantastic.
Sera took a slow breath and exhaled softly. She did not experience being self-conscious in the same manner humans did, but she did not wish to be seen as inept. It was with any social species to have an inclination to conform with the majority.
She began to sing a tune that originated with her clan, written long before her birth, in a clear mezzo-soprano range.
Sera: <<In Vulcan, obs>>
Yuk, na' sochya
bru-lar k'wuhli heh ak'shem hayal,
nahp svizh-tor spo' wuh fnish-tor t' wuh sahriv po' mazhiv-yon,
fi' tor t'nash-veh wadi u' du,
kauk svi' sochya nam-tor hau tor t'nash-veh maut hasu
wuh ska' tal-muv ralash k'svi wuh goh tvelkau nash-veh had ek'wak pufai-tor
–abi' wuh wak, abi' nash gad
ish-veh kashek variben nuh' mau, halishau tan-tor svi'
wi nash-veh is-tor tor ish-veh dungi,
zhuk-fas-tor svi' wuh yon tor shetau wuh huhtik t' wun-mor
wuh dor, morov na' heh skil-tor
lu ish-veh ki' vesh' nash-veh ik t'nash-veh sha' dvel eku nash-veh svi' khom t' thee
wuh eit'jae, wuh nufaya –
oh Ket’cheleb
dungau du nah-tor tor fnau wuh shaht-fam igen?
t'nash-veh khaf-spol kuhsh-tor wuh yokul maf k'svi thee.
nash-veh aitlun tor shaya du, u' wuh t'naehm resha ek'wakik ne'rak thy wadi
hi nash-veh hafau t'nash-veh el'ru fi-tor ish-veh nak,
wuh kur’s t' mazhiv heh khaf heh shaukaush spes’fam kras-tor fi-tor thy wadi
du fam yehat gol'nev ra du nam-tor, ish-veh ki' vesh' pitoh svi' wuh yel
hi nash-veh wuh sayonotau nekwitaya
nash-veh thy korsovaya
il veshau…if nash-veh dvel-tor
Sherlock: response
Sera raised a brow. Sure, why not? Translate the song into Federation Standard while singing it…
Sera: I…I can. However, I am uncertain if it will sound…It may not translate well.
Tito/DeVeau/Sherlock: response
Sera’s sigh echoed throughout the karaoke bar, and she started slightly and could not help the slight flushing of her cheeks. That should not have happened.
Sera:
Asleep, at peace
lips parted and body limp,
Your thoughts linger like the scent of the storm after sandfire,
Clinging to my skin as you,
even in repose are bound to my very being
A discordant chord within the only melody I had ever known
–until the times, until this day
Your mind calls too much, demands surrender
Yet I hardened to your will,
Forged in the fires to become the strongest of blades
A prize, battled for and won
When it was I who willingly set myself before thee
A supplicant, an offering –
Oh Ket’Cheleb
shall you think to tame the Endless sky?
My heart thrums to the consuming lament within thee.
I want to break you, as the war rages eternal beneath thy skin
But I stay my hand upon your cheek,
the colors of sand and blood and passions unspoken painted upon thy skin
You cannot help what you are, it was written in the stars
But I am the quenching force
I am thy salvation
Or destruction…if I choose.
Her voice trailed off to silence and she stepped away from the mic.
Sherlock/Tito/DeVeau: response
tags/TBC
((OOC – I NEVER want to have to make up OR translate a song into Vulcan, again. That is all.))
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Lieutenant JG Sera
Engineering Officer
SB 118 Ops
J239812S14