JP: Ensign Alyndra (Santa) Syrex & Ensign (Elf) T’Fearne: The Xmas Special [Part 1]
teayl.thorn
((OOC: This is a JP sim that takes place on the Ronin, after the temporal rescue mission to the bygone days of Bajor, when we say Christmas Eve/day, it’s all relative to the Ronin Crew))
((2200 hours, Christmas Eve))((Alyndra & T’Fearne Quarters, Section 04, Deck 8, USS Ronin))Alyndra staggered into the quarters that she shared with T’Fearne, grunting, her spots standing out vividly on her skin with effort as she wrestled an oversized, overstuffed sack across the threshold. The door slid shut behind her with a soft swish, and the bag fell to the floor with an unceremonious thud.
As she released the sack, a collection of brightly coloured objects spilt out onto the floor between the bunk and the former-sofa covered in fabric-melting chemical burns. Alyndra’s movement sent a cascade of small objects rolling across their cramped quarters.
Syrex: ::Breathless:: Oh hey T’Fearne, what’s occurring?
The Vulcazoid, lounging on the lower bunk with her shoes discarded nearby, was absorbed in PADD-work, and glanced up with a raised eyebrow as the chaos fondly known as Alyndra burst adorably into the room.
T’Fearne: Hi Alyndra, just finishing a report—:: switching gears with a slight tilt of her head:: Whoa, what... happened to you?
Syrex: Yeah, well… I had an incident with my virtual toy store and the replicator.
T’Fearne: Wait. Why do you have a toy store?
Syrex: Yeah. I’m a paediatrician by training, so I replicate toys for my patients to feel more comfortable. Anyway, turns out there’s a bug where if you ask for one of everything it gives you everything in the catalogue, and I haven’t the heart to recycle them. So… How’d you feel about our quarters being an impromptu cargo bay?
The Vulcazoid sat up quickly on the bunk. Usually, she would let emotion slide off her face like water, keeping her expression a careful mask to deal with something complicated, but she was getting more comfortable with the crew of the Ronin and particularly Alyndra, so she let her feelings show a little, raising a hand in objection.
T’Fearne: I really hope you’re joking! I—I have more questions about your toy store but, :: reaching down to pick up a toy with a fluffy beard, that looked vaguely familiar:: we agreed, no pets and, please, no inventory storage! Not even temporary. We already have that in here. :: Gesturing to the dilapidated sofa stashed in a corner, covered in a blanket to hide the unspeakable stains and chemical burns in the fabric:: I’m a security officer, not a cargo master.
Syrex: Yeah… I figured you’d say that ::Looking towards the smelly eyesore that was Becks' old sofa:: , can’t say I blame you, to be honest. Well if we can’t keep them here what can we do with them? I haven’t the heart to throw them in the recycler.
T’Fearne::: Tapping chin thoughtfully:: Perhaps you could donate them. Or—give them away to someone else?
Syrex: Hmmmmm… Computer!
The ship’s computer chirped to life, indicating that it was awaiting commands.
Syrex: List all known holidays that involve the giving of presents around this time of year.
Computer: There are many “holidays” that fit that description. Please refine the parameters.
Syrex: Ok, please limit holidays to the most abundant species onboard the Ronin, specifically the senior staff.
Computer: The most abundant species onboard the USS Ronin are Terrans. Typically around this time of year they celebrate: Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa.
Syrex: Looks to T’Fearne:: Fancy having a Ronin-style Christmas? ::Winks::
T’Fearne: Christmas? :: Glancing questioningly at the colourful toys pilled at her feet with light concern:: Okay, but what does that even mean?
((Timeskip, 60 Minutes later))
Alyndra had taken care not to snag any of the precious wrapping paper in her and T’Fearnes combined limited living space. Between the sofa and the pile of presents that had been carefully wrapped and deposited in Alyndra’s bunk, they didn't have much room to spare.
Alyndra had sat at the desk of their quarters for the past half-hour researching Christmas traditions. Whilst she had seen people (mostly humans) celebrating the holiday when she had been at the academy, it hadn't been something she partook in, not until now. If she was to do a Ronin Christmas, she would be doing it right.
Syrex: Ok, so from what I can tell… Traditionally humans would annually invade the nation-state known as “Turkey” and eat the inhabitants… How shocking!
T’Fearne::: blinking rapidly as she tried to untangle her fingers from adhesive strips:: Wait, what? Betazoids have something similar in our turbulent past with Caitian raiders. I’m not doing anything like that for any species' celebratory traditions. What else do you have?
Syrex: Yeah, I have no plans to hunt and eat anyone… However, there was also a jolly old fat man who’d deliver the presents, Santa Claus. He was sometimes accompanied by an elf… Want to be an elf T’Fearne?
T’Fearne: Hmmm…What's an elf? :: tucking a wayward curle of hair behind her pointed ear:: What does the role require?
Syrex: I don’t know exactly. They are described as a smaller-looking human with bright rosy red cheeks and green clothing, their exact role is in dispute, but I believe they are generally assisting santa with delivering the toys.
T’Fearne: Why am I the elf? Shouldn’t you be the elf, if they’re supposed to be short?
Syrex: ::Snorts, grinning towards T’Fearne:: Because it was my idea! Computer!
Computer: ::Chirps::
Syrex: Please replicate A Santa Claus outfit using measurements for Syrex, Alyndra and an elf costume using the measurements for Elaazni, T’Fearne.
Computer: Please specify the type of elf.
Syrex: ::Shoulders shrug:: Christmas?
The replicator in the corner of the room sprung into life, producing two costumes, one bold red with white fur trim and another in a bright, garish green with jingling bells. Alyndra walked over to the garments, taking the red one and throwing it onto her bunk. She carefully passed the green one to her roommate.
Syrex: Here you are!
T’Fearne::: holding up the green uniform with a deadpan expression:: Well, it's my colour— I’m going to have to watch some historical footage of how this is supposed to be worn. :: Holding up large fake pointed ears that came with the ensemble:: What are these for?
Alyndra shifted uncomfortably, pulling at her uniform's neckline, had she accidentally given T’Fearne a xenophobic costume full of stereotypes?
Syrex: I… er… I dont know! I thought these traditions went back hundreds of years before… T’Fearne when was first contact between humans and Vulcans exactly?
Ducking into their shared bathroom, T’Fearne did her best to put on the “elf” uniform. The short green dress and hat with a bell were easy to figure out, and the red and white striped stockings were more complicated but manageable.
T’Fearne::: calling out from the head:: Officially? First Contact happened in the 2060s Terran chronology, but I’m sure there were prior surveys. Anything before that is probably classified. :: stepping out of the head and waving the fake ears:: These make me wonder about how far back any covert observations went.
Syrex: yeah.. :: Continuing to tug at her uniform's neck:: I’m really sorry, T’Fearne, obviously you don't have to wear them if you don’t want to. Maybe they were supposed to stop your ears from getting frosty?
The Vulcazoid held the fake, pointed ears up to her head, one eyebrow raised slightly, then tossed them to the recycling unit with a shrug.
T’Fearne::: flashing a quick grin:: I’ll just wear my own ears, these seem to be designed to modify Terran-shaped ears anyway.
Syrex: ::Still Panicking a little:: Ah well… Maybe thats for the best, your ears may have gotten a bit toasty.
T’Fearne: So what’s next? We are wearing the traditional garments for the ceremony.
Syrex: Yeah… Moving on… ::Clears her throat:: Traditionally delivering the gifts was done at night and in secret for a surprise the next morning. So I was thinking what if we used your security clearance to get into peoples quarters and deliver the gifts that way?
T’Fearne: You mean they invaded each other's territories and committed reverse theft? That sounds pretty barbaric. :: I wouldn’t be comfortable using security codes to open crew quarters if they are locked, that’s really only for emergency purposes and would flag the room as having an issue to ops. Would you use your medical override to get in if they were locked?
Syrex: Using my clearance would likely set off several alarms in sickbay sending a team to the quarters in question.. At that point we may as well do a classic “ding-dong-ditch” or leave them in their office.
T’Fearne: Ding-dong ditch? What’s that? Sounds Klingon.
Syrex: A technique I learned at the academy, a ding-dong-ditch is an old Earth technique in which you ring the doorbell of someone and run away before they have the chance to see who rang.
Explaining it, Alyndra realised it may have been a bit childish. At the academy it was all in good fun and a needed distraction from the day's stresses. Alyndra walked into the bathroom, although she’d changed clothing in front of T’Fearne before, seeing her put on a Santa costume seemed a bit more… Personal?
T’Fearne: Sounds like something you would get up to at the Academy. Computer. Mirror!
The Vulcazoid looked at herself and then imagined the pair of them pressing doorbells, dropping colourful packages in the doorway running away down corridors in their red and green jingling garments. The mental images were so absurd that they tickled her unexpectedly, and despite her usual control, she started laughing.
Alyndra peeked her head around the bathroom door raising an eyebrow. She had never seen T’Fearne so full of emotion. Whether T’Fearne liked it or not, Alyndra felt she’d always shown more emotion than most Vulcans, but she always put that down to her half-betazoid genotype. It was refreshing to see, maybe… Hopefully T’Fearne felt truly comfortable around her, Alyndra smiled at this thought.
The appearance of Alyndra’s head peaking out of the bathroom with a floppy red hat and the white ball of fluff swinging on the end of a long tail attached to the hat set T’Fearne off further, and she laughed harder.
T’Fearne::: Tears starting to shimmer on her cheeks:: You…you look so ridiculous. :: gasping for a breath:: We…we can’t…do the ding dong thing. They might be sleeping.
Syrex: ::From the bathroom door:: Yeah, you’re probably right… We wouldn’t want to wake them!
T’Fearne::: whipping her eyes with her wrist:: We can figure something else out.
[TBC in Part 2]
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Ensign Alyndra Syrex
Medical Officer
USS Ronin (NCC-34523)
R240107AS3
&
Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14