Ensign T’Fearne - Laundry Monster
Teayl Thorn
((T’Fearne & Vylax Shared Quarters - Deck 8 - USS Ronin))
T’Fearne: Ah, I see. :: glancing back to the sofa :: Did… uh… did you fold my laundry, while I was away? Or did Alyndra leave it that way?
She narrowed her eyes, the question more a warning than one of curiosity. It was hard to decide whether to be grateful or extremely alarmed by the apparent invasion of privacy.
Vylax: That was me. Alyndra must have vacated these quarters before I came onboard. I take it her eviction was recent?
T’Fearne’s composure cracked, if only mostly inwardly. Her fists clenched at her sides, hearing her new roommate casually admit to the personal transgression of messing with her belongings. There had been private items in that pile of clean laundry.
oO Four deities restrain me, this nosy little 1sai-vel stislak went through my laundry! I’m going to rip her variably pointed ears off… Oo
But that would not have been an appropriate way for a Starfleet officer to behave.
A deep breath.
Then another through the mouth, to avoid the sharp tang of blood wine wafting from the cup Vylax had left half-drunk. The pulsing green haze that floated over her vision receded.
T’Fearne: :: with restraint :: Yes. I mean, no, she was promoted to Lt. JG just before the Twin Sigma rescue efforts and probably moved to her own quarters right after…
She reached for her PADD and tapped through the ship's directory, locating Alyndra’s new cabin in seconds.
T’Fearne: :: without looking up :: In future, please leave my personal belongings untouched.
Vylax gave a small nod, apparently unfazed. The gesture made T’Fearne’s jaw tighten, but she felt her blood pressure returning to something manageable.
Vylax: I understand, the proximity you both shared multiplied by the time you were roommates must have given you both a unique understanding of one-another.
T’Fearne: That is a logical assumption.
The other woman drained her blood wine and, with precise movements, recycled the container. She removed her teal medical jacket and placed it, folded, on the sofa. Vylax climbed into the top bunk above T’Fearne’s.
Vylax: Although us Vulcans do not often express emotions, I’m sure you are aware that we feel them. Should you wish to talk about Alyndra in the confidence of another Vulcan, my “less-than-pointed” ears are at your disposal.
T’Fearne blinked slowly. Yet again, the woman overstepped. First folding her laundry. Now presuming to be a pointed ear in confidence to hear of her friendship with another. As though their shared ancestry were a reason to share such personal information.
T’Fearne’s temper was simmering just beneath the surface. Not since being a Cadet at the Academy had she been this annoyed with someone. That incident had ended in a screaming, chair-throwing incident in the Library that had seen her and her BIO101 science partner, Mac, summarily thrown out and temporarily banned from the facility. Luckily, they had still managed to pass the course. She straightened her spine. She had more self-control these days.
T’Fearne: :: cooly :: Your offer is noted. Should the need arise, I will… avail myself.
oO Not in a million years am I giving you any personal information about my friendship! Oo
Vylax: Please do.
With that, the woman settled back in her bunk and remained silent. Her breathing slowed slightly.
Now T’Fearne had a headache along with an everything else ache. It bloomed behind her eyes, pulsing in time with the bruises and scrapes she’d collected on the away mission. She could practically hear her nerves fizzing.
Without another word, she grabbed her PADD, pushed off the lower bunk and limped toward the door.
T’Fearne: I have matters to attend to. 2Wuh vaksurik shom tor du.
She exited swiftly, leaving Vylax and the stale air of their shared space behind. Her next stop was Alyndra. She longed to check back in with her friends. Hopefully with dermal regenerators. And chocolate. Definitely chocolate. It had been a long couple of weeks.
[No Tags / End Scene for T’Fearne]
OOC:
1sai-vel stislak - clothing monster - LingoJam
2wuh vaksurik shom tor du - A pleasant rest to you - LingoJam
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14