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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Day 05 [1700 Hours] - Mud, Blood and Holograms.
Last post by Juzzie -
[Lt Rhys Williams| Holodeck 6| Deck 21/Vector3|USS Theurgy] attn: @stardust

The doors to the holodeck clunked open. As Rhys stepped through, he was for a moment only half aware of Stellan being next to him. Out in front of them was the stuff of nightmares. He knew that many of those who had believed in certain faiths on Earth had imagined hell as a fiery abyss. This in his view if such a place was closer to the truth. Mud and filth befouled everything stumps of trees poked out of the ground in places like cocktail sticks in unappetising food.

In the distance was the remains of what Rhys knew had been a sleepy little village atop a ridge. It would have been tough to recognise otherwise. Every building had been smashed to bits. As he stepped forward, he stepped into the beginning of a network of trenches that he knew ultimately stretched from the English Channel to Switzerland. Water pooled at the bottom with the rotting wooden ‘duck’ boards only just emerging from the puddles and mini rivers. It was eerily quiet. No bird song, nothing.

Rhys straightened his tunic. It was khaki rather than blue. The rank insignia were on the sleeves. It marked him out as 1st Lieutenant of the British Royal Engineers. He sighed and wondered if this was a good idea or if he was letting his history obsession blind him. He had envisaged this as a kind of research session. The crew had struggled with so many calamities recently as had the counselling department. The First World War was the event that really began to bring ideas of psychological stresses to the fore in peoples minds. Shell shock, and battle fatigue precursors to diagnoses of PTSD, stress and many others had emerged. Rhys really hoped there was something they could study and learn from this programme.  He had worked for days to create as authentic a replica of the Battle of Messines as he could manage.

The British Army were involved in the battle and he knew that on top of everything else, there were so many recorded examples of different reactions to the stresses of combat. Some soldiers had written poems often as a way of giving voice to their pain. Curiously some responded with dark humour. ‘The Wipers Times’ was an infamous pseudo newspaper produced by British soldiers infamous for its dark sharp satirical humour. Rhys just hoped Stellan did not think he was stupid for this or indulging just in his historical fascinations.

Rhys coughed and then spoke as firmly as he could. “Welcome to the Battle of Messines June 1917, during the First World War.” He sighed “What many humans considered to be the first and last cataclysmic wars in Earth’s history, which it was… for twenty years.” He turned to look at Stellan. “What do you think?” He said as the afternoon sun beat down on the devastated land they stood before.

[OOC- Posting order Juzzie then Stardust]
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 07 [1600 hrs] Meeting of Minds
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[Hirek tr’Aimne | Corridor |  D. 06 | V. 01 |  USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon

Hirek’s mother had once been tempted to rename him. Some years after his birth, Hirek proved himself far more inclined towards mirthful mischief than the average Romulan boy his age and woefully shameless in his expression of delight, regardless of his audience. She’d told Hirek of a long list of names, all denoting a vexatious character of playful delinquency, that his father had naively protected Hirek from. Ultimately, his mother’s yielding to his father only added another divertive layer to Hirek’s public persona. For, in hearing his name, especially his full one, the average person—namely the average Romulan—would create a certain image of who he was or how he should act. Thereby making it even more pleasurable for Hirek when, upon meeting him in the flesh, he could slowly but surely slice away all their preconceived notions before leaving them in a befuddled mess.

Poor Lieutenant Madsen, a casualty of heartless fate, had been left in such a state. First meeting Hirek in the dark, chained to old sewer pipes, ears still ringing from the explosion that had provided the cover for her kidnapping. Then, before her “rescue” by friends, she was drug through the sewer's darkened corridors and subjected to numerous near-death occurrences before getting shot and rescued from drowning, both by Hirek himself. If ever there was a woman befuddled by his not-exactly-welcomed presence aboard this ship, it would be Enyd Isolde Madsen. But she wasn’t the only one.

A smile tugged at Hirek’s otherwise bored expression as he moved back into the corridor from the room he’d been studying. He felt her eyes on the back of his neck and knew SHE had come for him. It was about time, really. Hirek had finished his check-in at the science labs, and with nothing better to do with Madsen on duty and thus out of reach for him to pester, Hirek had opted for luring in the fish that was Valyn Amarik. And how better to bait her than to wander the ship, lurking as it was, in areas that made no logical sense for him to approach?

Ever since he’d met the blonde during her “rescue” of Enyd from his nefarious clutches, Hirek had been intrigued. Intrigued for a variety of reasons. One was her defection story, obviously more thorough as she’d been in Starfleet uniform and was an officer at that. Two being, just how did Starfleet allow a former Tal Shiar operative to join their ranks and have a security clearance?

If Hirek had a supernatural ability, it would be that of sniffing out Tal Shiar. Even if he hadn’t seen the woman’s notable dagger in their first meeting, everything about the way she carried herself screamed Romulan secret police. He didn’t regret in the slightest how he’d responded to her at their first meeting, though he knew eventually he’d have to pay for it. In a way, he welcomed the reckoning. It would mean he was seen. He was heard. Hirek didn’t like being ignored or skirted around, as some onboard had already taken to doing. At least in irking Madsen or being a “security concern” to Valyn, Hirek ensured that his presence would not be overlooked any time soon.

On the one hand, Hirek wanted to know more about Valyn—and not just because he found her strangely attractive. She wasn’t his usual type, being far more…brutish in her mannerisms than the type of women who usually approached him—be it for his family resources or his body. But she wasn’t without her own type of allure. Her eyes had been quite distracting, all fiery with violent passion at seeing him shoot Enyd. Not bothering to look over his shoulder, Hirek continued his aimless saunter. He was content to let her approach first. And he knew she would. On the other hand, he hated absolutely everything about her. Or at least, if she still bore any warmth toward the Tal Shiar, Hirek would despise her to his last breath. He would wait before he subjected her to his cold abhorrence. Let her give herself way, establish where her loyalties lay with her next move.

When she finally broke the silence of the abandoned corridor, speaking in accented tones that did not fit her behavior thus far, Hirek chuckled before pivoting on his heel. He advanced to stand toe-to-toe with her in a breath. He knew he was in her space, crowding her in the alcove that did not require such proximity, but Hirek was curious. Was she going to pull that cursed dagger on him and curse herself in his eyes? Or was she going to play this out as he was?

Hirek broke the palpable tension between them after a few shared breaths, “Is this alone enough for your tastes,” he purred in the lilting accent native to his island home, dipping his head down to almost whisper against the top of her head, “or would you feel better with me strapped to a chair beneath you for this interrogation?”
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 09 [1035] Just a Morning Cuppa
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Library and Research Room | Deck 15 | USS Theurgy] attn: @Number6

Enyd leaned forward, attention captured at the mentioning of a “rebellious phase,” something she probably had never quite grown out of. She tried to picture a rebellious Vulcan but had trouble doing so. Snarky, sure, but rebellious? Not exactly.

“What do you think now? Of the intentional decoupling of logic from emotion for Vulcans? While I was on Vulcan studying, I met a surprising number who were perhaps considered fanatical by their peers for thinking that logic cannot exist without some basis of emotion or vice versa. That the expression of emotion is of itself a decision, and often, a logical one. What do you think of that?” Enyd was well aware of the fact that Foval’s time with the Borg may have some influence on his current concepts of Vulcan nature and logic, but that made her curiosity all the stronger.

Looking at her teacup, Enyd nodded toward it, “Would you care for something to drink?” She paused before adding, “Strictly offering as a polite gesture, not as an overture.” Enyd remembered the old tradition on Vulcan of a woman offering a man a drink being seen as a romantic overture and wasn’t certain if Foval would remember that or even think of it considering the context of their posting.
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 09 [1945] Mayhem over Mai Tais
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Arboretum Cafe | Deck 20 | USS Theurgy] attn: @Brutus

“He is certainly winning in a few personality quirks,” Enyd glibly responded with a sigh, falling silent as she listened to Faye’s reply. With an amused smile, Enyd shook her head. “I am most frustrated at myself, really. I’m not clear on all the particulars, but he got clearance to come aboard from Ives directly so there’s got to be something about him that is misleading. He can’t be all bark without some legit bite, you know? And he is very clever and charming. If he turned that on someone else, I would find it entertaining to watch. I just happen to be one of his targets for the time being.” She gave another shrug, having accepted her fate of being the brunt of fate's fickle nature.

Enyd began swirling the melting ice cubes in her glass as Faye filled the silence with what she knew of the pilots and her past interactions with them. The woman's final comment about Victor had Enyd’s ears perking and a smile tugging at her lips.

“Well, you can add this to scuttlebutt, but Victor and I were engaged some years ago.” She took a sip, allowing the comment to take effect before she lowered her drink and took to pushing back and forth between her fingers as she filled her fellow diplomat in on the more pertinent details. “We met while he was on leave, and I was attending the Metternich on Vulcan. We struck up a long-distance correspondence that got us both through the highs and lows of our lives at the time, and gradually we grew to a point where marriage felt like the most logical thing for people who felt as we did for one another. We maintained a long-distance engagement as I went through officer’s training and was assigned to Cardassia, but,” she swallowed and took a moment to breathe deeply before finishing on a sigh, “I broke off the engagement, feeling it was the kindest thing to do since I had fallen in love with someone else and the circumstances I was living in were proving fairly precarious. We lost touch after that.” Enyd gave a half shrug before taking another sip and offering Faye a soft smile, “I was very happy to find him onboard, truly. And we have had more than a few heart-to-hearts since our unexpected reunion. We are still kindred spirits but not likely to put a ring on the finger for that this time around.”

Pushing her empty glass to the middle of the small table, Enyd leaned back and playfully nodded as if in challenge toward Faye, “Have any stories to beat that scuttlebutt?”
5
Episode 01: Advent of War / Re: CH02: S [D02|2300] Notesharing and Nightcaps
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mess Hall | Deck 13 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @BipSpoon

Enyd bowed her head as one might curtsey, taking pleasure in knowing she’d managed to concoct something Valyn found to be a worthy “opponent” to drink. She mirrored Valyn’s drink salute with one of her own. The electrolyte-infused water was a welcome change from her engine fuel strength liquor. Enyd again mirrored Valyn’s movements when the Romulan woman made a pact to keep an eye out for one another, dipping her head down in a firm conspiratory nod.

“Your tastes don’t sound so complicated, dear.” Enyd waved away Valyn’s supposed complications with a feigned look of boredom. “And definitely NOT impossible to find. There are probably a few who fit that description onboard right now, in fact, given how very large this ship is.”

Valyn’s struggle to confess regarding her attraction to women had Enyd smiling and again shooing away any would-be concerns. “I’ve also never been intimate with a woman, Valyn, so there's no need to be stilted in the confession. I think it is possible to find someone of the same gender physically appealing, perhaps even emotionally attractive, but without the sexual desire attached. For instance,” she shifted on her chair to stair more intently at her friend, “I think you are very beautiful. Strong, capable, and attractive physically and mentally from what I have been able to experience so far. But I hope you don’t take offense that I would probably not think to kiss you soundly unless I was much drunker.” She shot her friend a wink, hoping it helped dissuade any lingering concerns or awkwardness.
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 10 [1326] Chaos in the Clouds of Qo'Nos
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Mekro’vak Region | Qo’Nos] attn: @Eden

Enyd beamed at Cal, thankful he was far more of a diplomat than others in his department. She was polite enough to turn away as he disrobed, if one could call it that, considering the tattered shape his jumpsuit was in. Enyd was quick about her own clothing, or at least as quick as she could be. After watching her half-clothed shimmy dance, Rik’evet ended up using the tip of his spear to cut through a few cords that had gotten tangled, nearly trapping Enyd in her clothes instead of letting her out of them.

Her body svelte from years of gymnastics and dance, Enyd retained soft feminine curves that could often mislead someone into thinking she was as demure as she appeared. But she was no stranger to the violence of hunting and was resilient to a fault. If it were not for the marvels of modern medicine, her body would have been riddled with the myriad scars from her numerous near-death experiences from her daring ventures outdoors. As it was, however, the only scars she bore were the ones leftover from the shackles The Directorate had lent her ankles and wrists, and these she’d intentionally kept.

Looking at what she could see of a deep scar and naught else in the general vicinity, Enyd glanced back at her companion in chaos, “Is that the type of scar you share the story of?”

Rik’evet led the way to join the rest of the hunting party, Cal’s teasing comment about diplomats bringing a smirk to Enyd’s face. She shrugged at the mentioning of a trigok. She assumed that it was mammalian and probably something that could kill them. The group soon took to the thick foliage, many disappearing completely from view. Enyd kept close to Cal, appreciating the old trail he’d found nearly as much as he since she had no interest in getting more cuts from the thick fern leaves.

At his question, Enyd again shrugged. She truly had no clue what the creature looked like. Cal’s additional comments about nude warrior woman had her biting back laughter before she whispered playfully, “I’ll be sure to gift you a special holoprogram for your birthday now that I know your preferences.”

All around them, they heard the call and response of the clan of warriors, their voices mimicking the sounds of the forest creatures but altered enough to track. The spear, longer than Enyd was tall, grew heavy in her arms. But onward, they continued. Through the pressing heat of the forest, the buzzing attacks of the bugs, and the growing sense that this was an elaborate joke on them. Enyd halted in her steps, ears already attentive to the movement of something, or someone, close by when Cal mentioned it. She shifted to crouch just parallel and partially behind Cal, her spear at the ready.

Enyd exchanged a curious glance with Cal, wondering if the creature had retreated when suddenly a furry form was flying at her face. Falling onto her rear, Enyd pulled up the spear point just in time for whatever the creature was to impale itself on the end. Her arms, already tired from hauling the weapon, shook from her effort to keep the still wriggling mass from falling to the ground and potentially dragging her weapon away.

“It uh-“ Enyd’s voice warbled as she fought to remain steady, the creature’s mass, not much larger than a mid-sized dog, just enough to interrupt her words as she continuously readjusted her grip on the spear, “looks like a hairless monkey.”

Only this monkey was foaming at the mouth and had what looked like a stinger on the end of its tail that it kept trying to stab into Enyd.

“That is a qa'put.” Anik caught her attention as he emerged through the ferns. “A young one from the looks of it.” With nay a warning, he thrust his spreadhead out and back, decapitating the qa’put. Glancing down at Enyd with a sneer, the young Klingon sighed, “You have shed first blood on this hunt, but it was only a qa’put. Come. Stop playing. The trigok are waiting.”

Enyd huffed out a sigh at Anik’s retreating back. Turning her gaze to Cal, Enyd used the bloodied spear to pull herself to her feet.

“We should stop playing, Cal.” She mimicked Anik’s broad-shouldered walk as she intentionally pushed against his shoulder on her way past him. “The trigok are waiting.”

Enyd managed four more strutting steps before the ground gave out from under her. With a squeal, Enyd latched both hands on her spear as her body began its uncontrolled plummet. Only her teeth jarred in her mouth as it clapped shut, her drop halting, for her spear rested on the firm ground on either side of the unseen pit, the hole just wide enough for something of her size to fall in. Dirt still falling about her head, Enyd blinked to get the muck from her eyes only to find that her spear had saved her from falling atop similar spears at the bottom of an old trap.

“Cal?” She called up to her companion, her grip on the spread growing uncertain. “Would you mind rescuing me?”
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 7 [0345 hrs] Mountain Mayhem with Madsen
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Blng’av Mountain Region | Qo’Nos ] attn: @Auctor Lucan

Enyd let out the breath she’d been holding when Drauc rolled off her. It hadn’t been from fear, not exactly, but assuredly trepidation. Not for her own safety, for she knew from experience that she could survive rough handling, but more so for his own sense of honor and self. Staring at the jungle canopy overhead, Enyd listened as Drauc caught his breath and worked on composing himself further. She hoped her own sense of calm in the face of his earlier storm was helping.

His confession had Enyd blushing even as she felt a self-satisfied thrill vibrate through her body. For what woman didn’t find some pleasure in knowing an attractive man found her attractive in return? It was also reassuring that it hadn’t just been her unbridled girlish fantasies that led them to this point. She would have hated that thought as much as he hated the thought of knowing a bear’s aggression had led to their first intimacy.

Curious, and uncaring of her state of undress, Enyd rolled onto her side. Refraining from touching him, as she assumed touch just increased the emotional and mental sharing, Enyd voiced her curiosity.

“Let us go with hypotheticals, again. Hypothetically speaking, if we were to grow closer, perhaps even intimate,” she was honorable enough to keep her eyes on his face and not let her gaze wander over his god-like body as she spoke, “and we were somehow on a mission together that went sideways, and things got violent, would you be able to distinguish me from the enemy? If I was there, would you be able to complete the mission?” She knew in some ways it was unfair to be asking those types of questions when aside from their earlier kiss and the nearly-there of just moments before, nothing firm or lasting had been established between them. But her pragmatic mind, ever thinking of contingencies, was already ten steps ahead and curious. Ducking her head and finally giving in to the temptation to touch, Enyd gently laid a hand on his shoulder, “Hypothetically speaking, is it possible for you to shield yourself from the influence of others? Is there any way I can help with that?”
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Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 10 [1945 hrs.] Today Is a Good Day To...Laugh!?
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Square of Death | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd squeezed Alistair’s arm with excitement as Yuvvor took the stage and challenged the crowd to be more Klingon. She’d been half tempted to take off a shoe and toss it at the lone woman—as a gesture of goodwill, of course—but had been saved a lost shoe with a timely belch. Enyd was the first to shamelessly hoot with laughter, hand reaching out to grab hold of Alistair’s forearm as she threw back her head and gave in to the belly laugh. Her laughter was soon drowned out as the arena joined her. Smiling up at her companion, Enyd wiped at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand as Yuvvor continued her act, this time with more merriment and less feigned animosity.

Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but start to point toward the would-be attacker, but Alistair’s explanation had her hand dropping back to her lap. She gave a quick nod and edged forward in her seat, anxious to see how things would unfold. Without a care in the world for propriety, when the Klingon lunged for Yuvvor and the woman gracefully pivoted out of his way, Enyd reached out and latched her hand onto Alistair’s knee. Squeezing it, Enyd laughed and pointed toward the ruckus happening on stage, as if the man couldn’t see the mayhem for himself.

As Yuvvor continued her dance with the Klingon, Enyd gradually fell back to lean over and whisper to Alistair, “When the Klingons boarded Theurgy, I was cornered in the corridor, alone, armed only with a fork.” Her eyes were dancing with merriment now, though at the time, she’d definitely hadn’t been amused. “I can say he got more than one of my points.”

Patting Alistair’s shoulder for good measure, Enyd returned her attention to the stage just as Yuvvor sat on her opponent’s back and began to tell a story. But then, in the shadowed left corner of the stage, a commotion from the audience interrupted Yuvvor’s story. As if emerging from the waters of evolution, a god of a Klingon slowly took to the stairs. He wore an ornate tunic and skin-tight leggings with knee-high boots. His curly hair was loose about his shoulders and his forehead regally ridged. No doubt this man was of noble blood, and even Enyd felt the tugging allure that hovered about his shoulders.

“And who is this dandy?” Yuvvor didn’t move from her perch, not just yet, but shifted to face the newcomer, taking hold of the fallen Klingon’s feet and twisting them to elicit a moan of pain from the man who had tried to best her. “Some fat nobleman’s son, lost on his way to a brothel?”

The towering man waited until the audience’s laughter died down before he spoke in a rumbling timbre that brought goosebumps to Enyd’s skin. “Your father told me where you were.”

“My father?” Yuvvor dropped the Klingon man’s legs and stood up. Freed of his comedian burden, the other Klingon man rolled off the stage into the first row of audience goers. Ignoring his grunts of pain or the curses he earned from those he’d fallen upon, Yuvvor shot a question at the long-haired Klingon god, “And who are you to know my father?”

“I am Klar.” Yuvvor took a step back at his name, her mouth dropping open and then snapping shut. Klar smiled and gave a partial bow to Yuvvor and the audience, “I see from your reaction that you have heard of me.”

Yuvvor snorted, crossing her arms over her chest, “Were you not the one who got his finger stuck in a vethl’s ass?”

The audience erupted into a series of hoots and hollers. Enyd looked to Alistair for clarification, but before the man could offer his best guess on what a vethl was, Klar rolled his shoulders and lifted his hands to silence the commotion her comment had rendered in the arena.

“Make your jokes, Yuvvor, but I will contend with you here,” Klar began to strut over the stage towards Yuvvor, fingers deftly working at the various strings and buckles that held his ornate tunic together, “I will woo you on this stage in plain sight of all these audience members.” The tunic sprung free, the fabric all but leaping off his torso as if fleeing from the power of his undulating muscles. Enyd’s mouth dropped open in amazement. She hadn’t known a Klingon could be THAT muscled. “If you dare to deny me my right, I will fight you.” Shaking his thick mane of hair, Klar all but purred at Yuvvor, “Now, good evening, Yuvvor. For I have heard that is your name.”

Yuvvor was making a valiant effort to keep her eyes on his face and not roving over his body. Enyd wasn’t even making the attempt. “You must be hard of hearing, for that is only what my friends call me. For a waqboch like you? You may call me qavan. For that is all I will ever be to you.”

Again the audience booed or cheered at her retort, taking the cues for silence or cheers from Klar’s hand movements. Once more he held up a hand and everyone fell silent to listen.

“You lie. For you are called witty Yuvvor. Beautiful Yuvvor. And sometimes, Yuvvor the cursed.” A snarl was her only warning as she took a menacing step toward him. “Lusty Yuvvor.” Another growl from Yuvvor, another step, each reaction bringing more confidence to Klar as the two began to circle each other. “Your father spoke of your wildness, your strength; I could not help but be moved to woo thee for my wife.”

“Moved!” Yuvvor seemed to remember the audience then, eyes darting between the half-dressed hunk of a Klingon and the audience. “In good time, for a good Klingon man. But as for you?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and scoffed, “Let the feet that moved you here remove you there.” She pointed to the arena exit, her mischievous smile growing as laughter pitter-pattered from the audience. “For you are a moveable pillar. Not worth considering.”

She made the mistake of turning her back and that was when Klar sped into action. Enyd gasped, one hand covering her mouth, another reaching out for Alistair as they watched Klar move with greater speed and agility than the first Klingon. Perhaps for the first time in her twenty-two years, Yuvvor rapidly found herself clutched from behind in a vice-like grip. Klar shuffled on stage with the writhing comedian in his arms until he faced the audience and bent down to not-so-softly whisper to Yuvvor, “So what is moveable, dearest Yuvvor?”

Yuvvor found her footing with a heartfelt snarl and shimmied in Klar’s arms until she had enough purchase to reach up and fairly pull the bulkier man over her shoulder as one might a sweater. A crashing thud echoed in the arena as Klar fell in the same spot the earlier fleeing Klingon had.

“A useless cheS like you!” She gave a firm nod to the audience, raising her arms to solicit a rise in the applause and laughter.

But the laughter was mixed with gasps of surprise when Yuvvor abruptly fell onto her back, the victim of Klar’s firm grip on her ankles as he’d pulled her feet out from under her. With animalistic power, the man retook the stage. To the cheers and jeers of the audience, he quickly flipped Yuvvor onto her stomach. Then, kneeling beside her, Klar pulled Yuvvor’s arms behind her back and fairly hauled her into his lap, her chest awkwardly thrust forward as her disheveled form faced the audience.

“Why don’t you sit on me awhile and rest from all you must bear?”

“Minn'hor are made to bear, and so are you.” Even as her face scrunched up into an expression of obvious discomfort, the comedian did not look inclined to give up or give in.

“Woman also bear-“ Klar’s words were broken off on a gasping grunt when Yuvvor pushed them both back onto his back, the weight of her atop him breaking his breath and words at once.

Cracking her head back, his ridged forehead painfully met the back of her skull.

With a yelp of victory, Yuvvor rolled off Klar. “Yes, we bear many burdens for the likes of those such as you!” She went to kick him in the side, but Klar caught her foot in midswing.

“I will not burden you, sweet Yuvvor.” He tugged her foot towards him, his smirk growing as she hopped in her efforts to escape. “For you are young and light-“

Yuvvor once more cut off his words, but this time but a flying kick to the face, gaining her freedom as Klar rolled onto his back and clutched at his bleeding face.

“Too young for you and as heavy as I should be.” She dusted off her clothes and turned to face the audience again, mouth open to offer them apologies or jokes; Enyd wasn’t certain. But then Klar was at it again, this time with Yuvvor mindfully stepping out of the way of his oncoming tackle. “You are like a noisome parbIng!”

“Yet not so noisome that you have fled from my courting.” He spat a glob of blood at her feet, lips pulling back into a bloodied snarl. “Now, Yuvvor, set aside this waspish behavior and yield to me.”

Yuvvor tossed her head, arms in front of her, ready to fend off attacks, as they continued to circle each other, completely uncaring of the arena of spectators.

“If I am a pherza wasp, beware my sting.” She feigned an attack, her lips pulling back into a smiling snarl when he foolishly evaded the feint.

“You know the remedy for a pherza.” He ran at her, but before taking hold of her around the waist, Yuvvor locked an arm around his neck and swung him under her body, landing on his back.

“What? To pluck out its stinger? If the fool can find where it lies.” She winked at the audience, earning a few whistles.

Klar reached up, wrapping her hair around one fist, and jerked her down until their faces were parallel. The arena fell into a dead silence. Enyd against squeezed Alistair’s knee as she fell just as silent, in awe of whatever it was they were watching. Be it true or just a part of the show, she was loving it.

“Why, it is in his tongue.” Klar licked his bloodied lips for emphasis.

Yuvvor stiffened, “Whose tongue?”

“Yours.” Klar leaned forward and would’ve landed a kiss if Yuvvor hadn’t pulled against his grip on her hair just enough to bite the tip of his nose.

Instinctively Klar tossed Yuvvor from his shoulders. She curtsied to the audience before returning her attention to Klar, who had since recovered enough of his wherewithal to turn about and face the comedian. Upon seeing his bloodied visage, Yuvvor exaggerated a shiver.

“Why do you shiver?” he asked.

Yuvvor grinned, “It is what I do when I see a suy’.” Members of the audience hooted and hollered, some calling out for Klar to hit Yuvvor again. Enyd again had no notion of what this thing was, but apparently, it wasn’t something good-looking.

“There is no suy’ here, so you should not shiver.” He ran his hands over the sweat-glistened muscles of his chest, down over the contours of his stomach, and further to cup his own manhood. More than a few ladies in the audience growled out their delight at seeing his masculine beauty. “Unless it is from pleasure.”

Yuvvor’s mouth had dropped open, obviously one to appreciate the visible splendor, but snapped it shut almost immediately at his challenge.

“Had I mirror, I would show you the suy’.”

“Oh, you mean my face?” Klar reached up to pull his hair off his shoulders, making exaggerated moves to accentuate his muscles. A lady on the far side of the arena stood up and looked ready to take the stage, perhaps to claim Klar for her own, but either her husband or brother tackled her to the ground to stop her. Klar smirked at the ruckus his motions had caused before returning his attention to Yuvvor. “Come, sweet, dearest Yuvvor, your father has consented to our marriage. And will you, or nill you, I will marry you. For in this fight, I have seen the wild beauty of your spirit for myself, and you can be married to no man but me. For I am the man born to fight you,” he moved closer and made a not-so-subtle thrusting motion with his hips, “to ride you, and to love you.”

Yuvvor remained strangely silent for the span of a few heartbeats before she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, “Where did you learn to talk like this?”

“Such as you, my mother had wit.” Klar smiled.

“A witty mother,” Yuvvor looked to the audience and winked, “and a witless son.”

Klar lunged at her. Yuvvor could have easily evaded, but she met his tackle with her own until they were wrestling against each other in the middle of the stage.

“Am I not witty?” he growled at her, hands on her shoulders pushing.

Yuvvor grunted her answer, “Yes, it must keep you warm at night for nothing else will.”

Suddenly Klar stopped pushing, and the quick change in physics had Yuvvor crashing against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides, Klar smiled.

“It has until now, but now, Yuvvor, I will find my warmth in your bed.”

With one last snarl, Yuvvor leaned up and bit Klar’s neck, eliciting a howl from the man. Behind her, Enyd heard a gasp and turned to see an older Klingon woman had fainted with her husband working to fan her face. Eyes wide, Enyd looked back to Alistair.

“Do you think this is real?” She gestured to the stage, where Klar had finished his howl and had once more grabbed Yuvvor’s hair, pulling her head back to place a fierce kiss on her lips.

The arena erupted into applause, many of the Klingons around them standing up and hooting out their delight. Enyd looked all around her before she shrugged and clapped as well, winking at Alistair as she stood. She was curious if there was more to come or, if this interlude was enough to fire up the need for a hasty exit for the Klingons on stage and perhaps a few in the audience.
Great inspiration from the commedia form of theater, and the dialogue of this scene is shamelessly adjusted from Taming of the Shrew.
9
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 04 [1157 hrs.] Living Out Loud
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt Enyd Isolde Madsen | Below Decks Lounge | D. 28 | V. 3 | Holosuite 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @RyeTanker

Enyd was happy to listen to Zark share her stories as they made their way back to her quarters. On occasion, Enyd would prompt another story by way of a clarifying question, ever delighted when Zark humored her curiosity with more stories. By the time they’d arrived at Enyd’s quarters, the diplomat felt she’d found yet another kindred spirit in the Andorian woman.

While Zark’s hasty entrance and the unceremonious dump of personal articles was surprising, Enyd’s surprise was quickly pushed aside to curiosity when Zark called for privacy mode. A single eyebrow rose as Enyd braced herself for whatever it was Zark was about to say or do. Not worried or alarmed, but curious and…ready for whatever it was the Andorian was about to dish out.

“A secret?” she couldn’t help but parrot back when Zark first began her justification for the clandestine methods. As her friend danced her way through the explanation, Enyd’s eyes went wide with a mixture of fascination and delight. “Wonder of wonders indeed.” Enyd demurred as she watched Zark maneuver open a secret compartment in her boot.

She moved as one with Zark as the security officer shifted to “attack” an innocent coffee mug Enyd had failed to put away earlier. Enyd gasped, hands flying to her mouth, as she watched the cup fall apart, and after very little effort from Zark with the blade. Hands still covering her mouth, her fingers itching to seize the blade from Zark’s fingers to have a go at it, Enyd shifted on her feet to listen to Zark’s final explanation for the unexpected gift.

Grabbing the boot as if it were a precious stone of highest value, Enyd beamed at her friend. “I’m honored, Zark. Thank you so much for this!” She held the boot to the side with one arm while she used her other arm to haul Zark in for a hug. Enyd pressed a warm kiss to Zark’s cheek before pulling back. “I don’t intentionally get myself into trouble, but I have to admit that trouble tends to mind me, so this will definitely come in handy!” A sudden thought had Enyd frowning, eyes darting between boot and friend, “But won’t you need boots for your duties? And what about another blade? I doubt your superior officer would take kindly to you showing up barefooted."
10
Interregnum 01-02 S2 / Re: Day 04 [1800 hrs.] Through the Looking Glass
Last post by Juzzie -
[Lt. Rhys Williams| Junior officer's quarters | Deck 13/Vector 01 | USS Theurgy] attn: @stardust

Rhys was delighted that Stellan was laughing at things he was saying. It was the good kind of laughing to, genuine amusement and in those eyes, Rhys reckoned that a light of affection shined to. It made Rhys’ cheeks glow with something other than embarrassment and awkwardness.

 Rhys liked men who were different to him. Self-confident and assured. Stellan had both of those and a little bit of edge. Strangely he found that appealing. Rhys was pretty by the books in some ways not out of any dedication but a lack of faith in his own independent reasoning. Stellan’s ability to be a little more independent was something Rhys admired and also frankly was attracted to.

Rhys chuckled and shook his head when Stellan had said ‘Yeah… you.’ Though Rhys was momentarily distracted by glancing at Stellan’s lips then up to his eyes he was still able to join in with the game.

“When have you not been silly?” Rhys laughed softly the sound almost as sing song as his voice. “I am sure all of us in the department could produce a list as long as your arm.” He did not mention Hathev specifically as that would likely spoil the mood and he tried to keep her name out of his thoughts as much as possible. This was going well and he did not want to mess it up.

“Wow he is so cute.” Was a thought he was not so successful at supressing. Again, he did not say this out loud. In his limited experience some guys resented being referred to as cute. Stellan probably would not have minded in any case and Rhys could not be blamed for his thoughts after all could he?

Rhys’ comment about his silliness being an iceberg seemed to give some pause. Rhys was becoming more comfortable, and it seemed the initial silence was not a bad thing. No, in fact Rhys got the sense inside that beautiful head wheels were turning. His words were being analysed.

Stellan’s own words gave Rhys pause. The way he had spoken those words seemed suggestive to the young Welshman. Rhys’ own wheels turned for a moment. “It’s a promise.” He paused, a small smirk appearing on his lips, his blue eyes staring deep into the Betazoid’s Black ones. “I am not opposed to a challenge either.” His finger’s brushed over Stellan’s shoulder.
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