Ensign T’Fearne - Sushi and Self-Doubt
teayl.thorn
T’Fearne raised an eyebrow.
T'Fearne: You mentioned a detour before you accepted a duty station? What was your detour, unless that is private?
Evinrude: :: He waved a hand.:: No, it's not private. Easy information to look up, actually.
With a fluid motion, Evinrude slid an old-fashioned menu toward her. She accepted it but didn’t even glance at it—she already had something in mind. Instead, she reached across the bar, pulling a small container of chopsticks, a flask of dark, salty-sweet liquid, and a dish of fiery green paste toward them, setting everything within easy reach as he continued.
Evinrude: I was able to delay commission after my cadet cruise by opting to further my education. The Academy was...perturbed when I dropped out of school to make holo-novels. I did that for a few years, part of a team. We were pretty young, but we had...some success.
T'Fearne: You are the second officer aboard the Ronin who has mentioned a previous career in the holo-novel industry. If there's a third, I’ll start to wonder if it’s some kind of trend. How was the return to service? If the Academy disapproved of you walking away—then would your instructors be pleased now, seeing you finally accept a commission?
She wasn’t sure why, but something she had just mentioned seemed to evoke a shadow of apprehension in him similar to what she had encountered in Sickbay. To her senses it translated as a faint impression of an ice blue aura from him. The blue reminded her of her blue stained lips and she lent an elbow on the bench and surreptitiously slid her hand over the lower half of her face as though she were in thought. Her own lingering feelings of self-consciousness registering as neon orange tendrils that she blinked away from her peripheral vision.
Evinrude: Well, when I requested re-consideration for an officer's commission, I was honestly surprised that they agreed. But the board, particularly one member, thinks I'll screw this up. If I'm found...unfit for duty, they'll pull my commission. No chance to appeal.
That caused her to drop her hand from her face, distracted. The comment about screwing up hitting close to home after her recent failure to keep Lenik in her custody as well as her other perceived failures during the B’Hala rescue mission. It may be too late for her commission, only time and a conversation with Chief Carpenter would tell.
But Evinrude was a newcomer, still full of potential. She couldn’t let him carry that weight so soon. Catching his gaze, she tried to offer a sense of resolve.
T'Fearne: Prove them wrong. :: casual shrug:: maybe that’s exactly what they wanted you to think?
Before Evinrude could reply, the itamae stepped away from his sushi station and politely approached them.
Itamae: Pardon me, are you ready to order?
Evinrude: ::To T'Fearne.:: If you order first, I can be ready.
Handing her antique menu over to the crewman in the apron with a nod of thanks.
T'Fearne: Very well. :: Glancing back at Evinrude, who was still staring at his menu. :: Let me know if you need a recommendation.
Evinrude: Hey, how do you feel about sharing food? ::He asked neutrally. Some people, he had found, are very protective of their order.::
T’Fearne paused, considering the offer. After a moment, she nodded.
T'Fearne: I’m partial to the marinated salmon set—eggs and vegetables side dishes. But if you’d like something else, add it to the order. Can you make it for two? :: She looked at the crewman with an inquisitive glance:: And whatever else Ensign Evinrude decides to add.
Itamae::: He nodded without missing a beat.:: Easily done. Anything else for you, Ensign?
Evinrude: Response
A sudden thought struck her.
T'Fearne: What kind of eggs do you have in stock today? ::wincing slightly:: It’s not 1Regulan eel bird today is it?
Itamae: No, no eel bird eggs today. We have Earth chicken eggs and Cardassian taspar eggs. Fresh out of the eel bird eggs.
T'Fearne::: faint relief :: Earth chicken eggs, then. Thank you.
The crewman turned back to the hotplate with a nod and an “Aye Sir”. Soon eggs began to fly behind the bar and the sizzle of searing meat intensified in sound and aroma permeating through the quiet lounge. T’Fearne realised she hadn’t really eaten yet that day, earlier she had been relieved that she had only consumed one piece of the blue fruit, but now the day was getting on and she wanted to consume food before her shift started. She had about thirty minutes before she had to report for a training exercise at the Security Complex, but she knew this place served food quickly.
Evinrude: Response
Returning to her train of thought before their order.
T'Fearne: What kind of admiral would give you the impression that they have it out for you? It seems like that would be beneath their notice :: quizzical look:: If they do have something against you then what better way of making them look foolish than living well, proving them wrong—and don’t let them make you doubt yourself.
She reached out to gently tap the side of his head with a knuckle, at the same time, she rapped her knuckles on the dark counter, the hollow echo a rhythmic punctuation.
Evinrude: Response
T'Fearne: It’s percussive realignment. If you have any more self doubts, feel free to come see me and I will repeat the procedure for you. Or you could just find the nearest bulkhead and—what is the human phrase “knock yourself out”? :: dry tone, but with a playful eye glint::
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC]
((OOC: Regulan Eel Rird Eggs, Cardassian Taspar Eggs))
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14