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Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

[ Hirek tr’Aimne | Personal Quarters | Deck 17 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @everyone interested in a bit of chaos

Cool to the touch and light in weight, the combadge he’d been given still looked more like a toy than something of use. Twisting it first this way and then that, the glint of the overhead lights bounced off the surface as Hirek continued to peer at the tangible evidence of his present circumstances. In just over a week, Hirek had veered so far off course from what he’d expected of his life that some mornings he still woke up confused. Gasping in the darkness—a darkness no longer thick with First City humidity, smelling of Klingon filth and Romulan fear—it would take a reassuring conversation with Thea to remind Hirek of just how much had changed. While he found her fascinating and indeed referred to her with gender, Hirek had yet to adjust fully to the ship’s computer system, though he looked forward to meeting her avatar.

With Thea’s guidance, Hirek had explored much of the ship in the days after he’d been officially welcomed aboard—though “welcomed” was a loose term. Cordial was also too warm a word to describe his reception. He did not take it personally, especially not since his introduction to a select few was on the coattails of having aided in the kidnapping of their crewmate. Hirek smirked as he remembered a fellow Romulan, now his supposed “crewmate” who would likely enjoy tenderizing his flesh for dinner. Oh, yes, he looked forward to meeting her again. And any others open to sharing a conversation with one of "those" Romulans. He snorted in morbid amusement.

Setting aside the badge for now, Hirek finished readying himself for his excursion to the D’Takka seashore—a rare treat to see more of Qo’Nos without the other Romulan agents weighing him down. His thoughts began tracking once more over the events leading to his placement on the ship. His work for Starfleet intelligence over the years, his placement on Qo’Nos at the very time Theurgy arrived and revealed the Infested, and then the fateful meeting with Enyd Madsen, the child of the Starfleet operatives who’d both cursed him into this existence and saved his life. It was uncertain how long it would take to defeat the Infested and secure his family’s safety back on Romulus; as such, it was uncertain how long he would remain on the ship. That did not mean he intended to isolate himself in his assigned quarters, merely doing his work in the labs and keeping silent as he bore the sins of his fellow Romulans like some sort of scapegoat. No, he’d never been the type to sit quietly on the sidelines while life moved by. He would continue to live as unapologetically as ever, potentially stuck-up Starfleet crew be damned.

Humming one of the more lurid tunes he’d learned as a child from the sailors near i-Korthre, Hirek attached the combadge to the ebony tunic he wore over form-fitting turquoise trousers. It was a pleasure to wear his own Uluma-style clothing again. He’d spent so much time wearing the dreadful materials his former Romulan agents had required of him, Hirek had almost forgotten how pleasant good material felt as it rubbed over his naturally bronzed skin. He let his hum die out as he cued the door open and stepped outside, though the tune carried on alongside the beautifully carnal lyrics inside his head. It was without effort that Hirek moved his facial features into an expression of bored amusement as he made his way through the corridors to the transporter room a few decks above.

That expression changed to one of genuine devious delight when the door to the transporter room opened, and he saw none other than Lieutenant Enyd Isolde Madsen standing next to the pad as if waiting for someone. She was dressed in a plain black knee-length dress, the cuffs of the long sleeves rolled up to near elbow-length, with the plunging v-neck modestly accentuated by the clever placement of her combadge at the tip between her breasts.

“Why what a delight it is to see you again.” He knew she would not feel the same and found twisted pleasure in that fact, his smile growing as he watched her jerk in response to his sudden appearance.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ]

Enyd was tentatively excited at the culinary experience she’d signed up for. It had been highly recommended by her Klingon friends planetside, but given the nature of those friends, the coming excursion could go in any direction. Either it was exactly as advertised, and patrons could eat an eight-course meal at eight different unique venues all along the shores of the NIHbIQ'a' Ocean in the city of D’Takka, or it was something ELSE entirely. What the “else” was remained to be seen, but Enyd had experienced enough of the mayhem of the Klingon homeworld to expect the unexpected. Though she was dressed in a simple cocktail dress, she’d chosen it for its lightweight material—less chance of it pulling her under if she fell in the water—along with the fact that it could unwrap and form a rope—if she needed to repel from a tower—and she’d tucked Zark’s gift in her purse along with a few other items that could be used to break out, break-in, or defend.

Glancing at the door as she waited for the others who’d agreed to go on this crazy adventure with her, Enyd turned her attention inward and went over the tour route.

1.   Onok’s Bakery for a type of appetizer
2.   Luyr’s Cart for the equivalent of a salad
3.   G’erc’s Cantina for a soup
4.   Dessa’s Dining for the first entree
5.   Pin’Om’s Eater for the second entrée
6.   Vok’ej’s Tavern for the dessert
7.   Jilagi’s Jewels for the first aperitif
8.   Ushoq’s for the second aperitif

It was during the last two stops that Enyd felt chaos was most likely to happen, as it oft did whenever alcohol was involved.

Hearing the door open behind her, Enyd turned to greet the newcomer but felt her stomach curl with tension when her green eyes met the playful gaze of blue-hazels. Hirek tr’Aimne. Enyd gripped her purse tighter as he spoke, still seething at herself for finding his voice so damned alluring despite their first introduction via kidnapping. Remembering her present location, Enyd’s eyes widened as she felt her stomach again tighten. Surely, he wasn’t joining the tour!

“You’re not here for the D’Takka food tour, are you?”

Enyd grimaced, closing her eyes. Well, she certainly hadn’t meant to ask the question quite like that but too late now. Hearing his chuckle, Enyd opened one eye at a time.

“A tour alongside you sounds most delightful, lieutenant.” He moved out of the doorway, stepping closer, his unique scent further grating on her nerves. It was a refreshing and deep citrus scent with herbal undertones, not unlike a mixture of leather and bergamot, and it aggravated Enyd that she found it nearly as alluring as his damned voice. “Let us wait together for the others.”

As he took a position at her side, his expression openly eager, Enyd kept her mouth shut but nodded. Only vitriol would come out at this point, which would not reflect well on her position as assistant chief diplomat nor as a member of Starfleet. But it would feel damned delightful as a woman to give this hunk of a man a piece of her mind.

I think to help keep things moving, whenever you post if you are with a particular group of people only tag those individuals so as to not overload everyone with tags. Also, in your tags, I think it may be helpful to put the order of expected replies, maybe? Not sure which will help most, but do what works for you. Also, you can come in at any time, either on the ship from the beginning, or coming in on the planet while things are already in swing. Fair warning, know that I am employing actual DnD dice in the mayhem making that will undoubtedly come from the depths of my imagination, but also PLEASE bring more mayhem. AND HAVE FUN!

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #1
[ Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Personal Quarters | Deck 13 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

This is getting ridiculous, Talia growled to herself as she rolled her eyes. She stood before the sink in her bathroom, the perimeter of the basin lined with a multitude of various cosmetics and hair care products. Her dark eyes glanced to the chrono out by her desk, ignoring the utter devastation that was her untidy quarters. Time was not her ally.

Turning back to the mirror over the sink, she huffed at her reflection as she shifted her weight from one bare foot to the other in irritation. Her hands and arms fell from her head to her sides in a gesture of impatient frustration.

Her damned hair just wasn’t cooperating.

It had taken her far longer to get dressed than she’d ever admit, too. It wasn’t easy finding a culturally suitable dress for the occasion that she actually liked; being less than an expert on fashion to begin with and utterly ignorant of Klingon fashion – if there even was such a thing. All the more reason to go and see, and learn, and get off this fucking ship for a few hours, she reminded herself as she frowned at her hair. In the end, she’d relied on her own brief research into the issue and some advice from Thea – which she wasn’t entirely sure was a good idea or not – but the damage was done.

Her hands rested on the lip of the sink then as she cocked a bare hip, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She wore a satin maxi – black trimmed in silver – split high on one side and hollowed out below the spaghetti-strapped halter; it clung to the lean curves of her body perfectly. She loved the way she looked in it, but worried about how revealing it was all the same.

Hell with it, she lifted a shoulder in a shrug, smirking. At least I wont die of dehydration under all that leather, ugh, her nose wrinkled at the memory of all those full length ensembles she’d browsed through; all of them adorned with armor and sharp spiky bits. I can’t pull that look off, she shook her head, chewing her lip. Screw it.

Alright, one more try then I’m cutting you off,” she jabbed a finger at the mane of dark brown hair spilling across her bare shoulders and down her back. “Fucking work with me,” she grunted, then raised her hands into it to try her fourth attempt.

Twenty minutes later, after dabbing some fresh lip gloss on and re-checking her eyebrows, Talia scooped up her heels and small hand purse as she half jogged/ran out of her quarters. The thick rope of her hair – French braided into obedience at last – held draped over her shoulder. It wasn’t the look she was going for, but time had run out. Coming to a stop before the lift at the end of the hall, she remembered her combadge just as the doors slid open. Groaning out an elongated curse as she turned about, Talia couldn’t help but wonder at herself for how well the evening was starting out as she raced back to her room to retrieve it.

[Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | A few moments later]

Having donned her heeled sandals and wrapped the straps up her legs in good order during the brief ride on the turbolift – which was a bit awkward to do in her dress, with two other passengers with her – Talia sauntered her way into the room expecting the place to be packed. Instead, there were only two other souls waiting, one looking quite at ease, and the other a little put off for some reason.

One was a Romulan she’d never seen; a head taller than her, handsome but craggy with his salt-and-pepper beard. Beautiful eyes though, she noted. The other was an attractive but rather tense looking brunette in a cute cocktail dress that fit her slender figure quite well; Talia took in her features in a blink, noting how amazing her entire outfit complemented her – the hair, the dress, the shoes, all of it. Yeah, I need to get out more or make friends with her.  She must be Madsen, the instigator and organizer of this trip, her brow twitched as her eyes flicked back to the Romulan, wondering what she’d just walked into as her entrance was noticed. Don't be weird, just relax.

Oh, hello,” she smiled shyly as she cleared the door, tilting her head as she approached them. “Hope I’m in the right place – this is for the tour, right,” she asked quickly, glancing between the two. “I’m Ensign Al-Ibrahim, but Talia is fine,” she waved to the woman, nodding to the man, then clasped her hands behind her. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything – I thought I was late so I just kinda...barged in,” she added nervously, still glancing between the two of them.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #2
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]   Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @redshift316

It had been an exhausting two weeks for the Engineering department.  Generally repairs, modifications, and systems tests had fallen under the department's purview since Engineering was literally plugged into everything that made the ship operate.  These requirements got worse when the ship had holes punched in it, and bits blown apart as usually happened when a ship was at war, whether a declared one or not.  However, the Chief Engineer had reason to be proud as all the major critical systems had passed repair and refit, and it was on to the less combat directed systems.  Many of these items were indeed delicate, and needed attention, but they did not require the Engineering crew's full attention.  With that, he'd decided that the gold shirts needed their time off and a larger than usual proportion from the last two weeks had been given passes and told to get lost and enjoy themselves for a bit.  Coming up with a watch schedule hadn't been too much fun at that point, but with a lot of systems offline, it was a good time to give many an ensign some valuable if boring watch time on their records.

This meant, the bearded Engineer needed something to do, and it was time for a change of scenery.  Away missions were a no go since he had a ship to look after and most of the rest of engineers could take care of that.  His new Assistant Chief Engineer, Azrin Ryn, had taken an opportunity to do just such an adventure recently.  Since she was brilliant, the work was getting done, and had come back more or less in one piece, it wasn't an issue.  His other senior Engineer, Kala Marika was coming along nicely, though the change of hair colour was both a source of amusement and sorrow since it did remind him of Blue.  Tours on planet on the other hand seemed like a good, safe way to decompress, thus he was pleasantly surprised when he'd received a general message from Lieutenant Enyd Madsen of what amounted to a culinary tour of the First City.  While he didn't relish the idea of eating all his food while it was still moving, as was the reputation of Klingon cuisine, he would try at the very least, especially since the Klingons were being excellent hosts to the ship.  While he'd also always prefer a Scotch, real smoking Chech'tluth, and some Breshanti Ale would be welcome, just to see what the fuss was all about.  His thoughts had finally been allowed to freely stray and the smiling face of a brunette conn officer had floated through his thoughts a bit more than usual, and he wasn't sure if it was the most romantic of propositions, but he'd sent a message to the effect that the area this tour was going on was going to be fun, and the views of the water front were very nice indeed.  It wasn't much, but he hoped Jaya Thorne would accept the invitation to meet him at the transporter room with everyone else.

What to wear wasn't too much of an issue since he mainly wanted to be comfortable, so a simple grey button up shirt, dark jeans, navy blue vest, and sturdy walking shoes completed the look.  Checking the mirror one last time, he found everything to be acceptable, though he did make sure to properly condition his beard more than he usually did and set off for the transporter room 3.

[Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | A little later]

The Chief Engineer sauntered in and it wasn't hard to smile at the people who were going on the excursion.  "Well, this is a very pleasant surprise.  Good to see you Talia, and thank you for organizing this little cruise tour Enyd.  Haven't been on something like this since the last time I went on a pleasure cruise."  The only one the Chief Engineer wasn't sure of was a salt and peppered Vulcanoid.  It was common for people, when encountering the unknown to take their lead from the one that seemed to know the most of what was going on and Frank had come to know Enyd well enough to detect the subtle sense that something was off with the diplomat and it seemed to be result of her proximity and interaction with the Vulcanoid standing next to her.  It was hard to miss when you spent time sparring/fighting with a person while teaching them techniques and picking up their tells in the process.

Still Frank was a man to form his own opinions, so he would see whether Enyd's pensiveness was warranted as he gave Talia a welcoming pat in on the shoulder and smile in passing and approached the unknown man.  He decided to let irreverence have at it this time and his amused smile was a welcoming one as he held out his hand.  "Hello." he drawled to start. "I don't believe we've been introduced, name's Frank Arnold and I'm the Chief Engineer on this tub.  Can't say I've seen too many men on this ship who have a proclivity towards distinguished facial hair, and it's good to see someone with a fine sense of taste in that regard."

Tagging @rae @SummerDawn since your characters were mentioned
Lieutenant (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark), Combat Medic [Show/Hide]

Lieutenant Frank Arnold, Chief Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #3
[ Lt. JG Nysarisiza "Nysari" zh’Eziarath | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | Vector 1 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @RyeTanker

After pinning her combadge inside a pocket, Nysari stepped back from the mirror and examined herself with a critical eye. “Perfect,” she decided. She’d been on the Theurgy for a little over a week now, but the Andorian still didn’t feel comfortable back in Starfleet. That was to be expected. Honestly, it probably would have been more concerning if she’d adapted quickly, after tossing aside her family, her job, and every other part of the life she’d built in the past five years to join up with a renegade Starfleet ship. For someone who tended to overthink every decision, Nysari had the strange sensation that she’d thrown herself off a cliff without bothering to ensure that there was a safe landing below. Sure, she’d had days to decide she wanted to reactivate her commission. But she’d only know the truth about the Theurgy’s circumstances for a few hours before being assigned here. Her brain knew this was where she needed to be. Her heart needed a few more days to catch up.

An open invitation to a planetside food tour had felt like being thrown a lifeline. Nysari could never pass up a chance for cultural immersion. Nor a chance to dress up. She’d grown her hair out in honor of the occasion, waiting patiently as the follicle stimulator produced white locks that went down to her shoulders. Many braids later, her new mane was tamed in a classic Andorian style, front braids pulled away from her face, some meeting in an intricate knot on the back of her head, the rest falling down her back. Her makeup was simple enough, subtle except for the dark blue of her lips. Her dress was black, the cut simple yet precisely tailored, high necked and sleeveless to serve as a backdrop for the gold collar necklace she’d chosen as a statement. It was an andorian design, beaten gold arranged and wired to form mythological symbols. She’d found it on her last trip home, and ended up bringing it to Qo’noS with her because it reminded her of the heavy ornamentations worn by the women of great Klingon houses. The only concession she made for her outfit was her shoes. Heels would have fit the mood better, but touring a strange city in heels was asking for trouble. Flats would have to do.

If she was going to be on this ship for the long haul, Nysari knew she needed to make some friends. This seemed like the perfect occasion to get started on that. “Computer, pause music.” The Vulcan classical music that had been playing in the background went quiet. “What time is it?”

“The time is 1700 hours.”

Just enough time for a detour before she met the tour group in the transporter room.

[Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | A detour to sickbay later]

Luckily - or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it - Nysari had been on Qo’noS for well over a month now. She had learned one thing very early on. No desire for cultural experience was enough to make her stomach accept Klingon food. To keep from embarrassing herself in front of Klingon hosts who valued strength in their negotiations, Nysari had turned to modern medicine for the solution. The Embassy’s doctor had clearly dealt with this problem before, as he quickly produced preventative hyposprays. One for nausea. One overproduced enzymes to break down alcohol faster. Perfect for negotiations - and exactly what one needed to survive a Klingon food tour. Once she’d listed off the names of the medications, a Theurgy nurse had been happy enough to provide a dose of each.

“Maybe avoid the Klingon food next time though?” the woman had suggested dryly as Nysari headed out.

“But then I’d miss the taste,” she’d replied with a knowing smile and a self-deprecating laugh. The obvious lie probably only confused the nurse more, but Nysari already off to the transporter room. She was going for the experience, not the food. Knowing Klingons, this was going to be a wild night. That would be true without their alive, wiggling, and pungent food. At least she was prepared for it.

“Good evening,” Nysari announced to the crowd as she entered the transporter room, looking at the unfamiliar faces one at a time, antennae shifting along with her eyes. She recognized Lieutenant Enyd Madsen, one of Nysari’s new superiors in the diplomatic corps. The women seemed to have dressed in a similar vein, all wearing black. She particularly enjoyed how Madsen had accessorized with her combadge. Her gaze lingered a bit longer than necessary at the Romulan, who looked far happier than any Romulan she’d ever dealt with. That didn’t bode well.

“I am Lieutenant Nysarisiza zh’Eziarath. Nysari for short,” her nickname was accompanied by a slight smile. Andorian names tended towards the long and unpronounceable. Even her own people preferred shortened versions. “I was transferred to the diplomatic corps not long after the ship arrived at Qo’noS. Is this the culinary tour?”

OOC: Azrin is going to be late but Arnold definitely shouldn't worry about it. (laugh)

Nysari's necklace was inspired by Layla's necklace from Moon Knight, which comes apart and becomes a weapon. It felt very Klingon to me. [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #4
[ Lt. Kala Marika | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @redshift316 @rae @RyeTanker 

To say the last week had been rough would be an understatement. Waking up in sickbay being told you'd been on an away mission gone horribly wrong, violated by a plant and almost turned into it's personal nursery like something out of an old Terran horror flick, would be enough to make any sane humanoid consider hitting the bottle. Sanity though, that had been somewhat precarious before the away mission, thanks to the Borg, the Asurians, various other hostiles that seemed to want to take her life by various means. She was technically not crazy, so said the counsellor, processing was normal, to be expected, and as long as she didn't harm herself or others, some latitude to express herself was okay.

That expression, as it turned out, came with a change in attitude, inspired in some large part by her former boss, LtCmdr Blue Tirian. The women had lived life not caring what others thought, at least that's how Kala had seen her, and her nickname well earned, the women could curse a blue streak, and the blue highlight seemed suitable for the women. Kala's brush with death several times, seeing Blue's seemingly carefree approach, it had twigged something in Kala and she'd taken inspiration from the women, and an old terran social group who always seemed to be on the fringes, rebelling against the norms of the day.

The petite Bajoran walked into the transporter room, not her usual blonde hair, casual laid back style she'd been known for before, but in walked a petite women in striking blue hair, purple highlights, knitted black one piece dress, equally dark stockings, and shoes that looked almost uncomfortably tall. Kala recognized her boss, smiling at Frank Arnold. "I guess Engineering is making a showing on this tour Chief." She glanced around, recognizing a few faces. "Sorry if I don't look like my usual self, just decided a change was in order, celebrate surviving another adventure."

She looked back at Arnold, but spoke to no-one in particular. "I do recommend trying the Breshtanti Ale. Rumor on the subspace channels is the colony suffered a major reactor failure, left a crater large enough to be seen from orbit. Won't be much Ale coming from there for a while." She winked at Arnold, she suspected he knew about the mission, and while Kala wasn't stupid enough to admit she may have played a role in that crater's creation, the mission was classified as far as she knew, didn't mean the news wasn't public. And she had to admit she regretted not being able to witness the explosion, the satisfaction of knowing the creature that'd assaulted her died in the explosion, vaporized at the epicenter of a nuclear detonation, maybe it was cruel, maybe not, but it was satisfying to know she'd won.

(outfit ref)

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #5
 [Ens. Mia Dunne | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ]
ATTN:   @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion  @redshift316 @rae @RyeTanker @SummerDawn

To say that she’d had a frustrating few weeks since she’d come out of statis could be considered a gross understatement of the facts. Her research had not provided any information that could be used against the parasite, and her last tour adventure had most definitely not turned out as she had imagined it would.  Hopefully, a tour of fine dining, if you could call it that, would at least provide a little relaxation and get her mind off her research.

Mia dressed in a royal blue dress that hung just below her knees, while her back was completely covered, the front dipped a bit lower and showed a bit more of her ample cleavage than she was really comfortable with. This was the fourth or fifth outfit she’d tried on. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror and looked at the chrono in the mirror. She didn’t have time to change again if she wanted to join the group. She pulled her hair up into a loose bun and applied the minimum of makeup, mostly to cover the tired circles under her eyes. Slipping her feet into a pair of pumps of matching color to the dress she gazed in the mirror once more, “I guess this is a good as I am going to get,” she said as she picked up a small purse that held a few essential items, like the small multitool her father had given her upon her graduation from university as a Xeno-Anthropologist. He had joked that it would get her out of a lot of difficult situations, even though she had never really had to use it, she just liked having something of her family with her these days.

A few minutes later she entered the transporter room to find a rather large gathering. She stopped in the doorway. There had to be at least six other people ready to transport to the surface.  She stepped inside and looked around cautiously, not really knowing anyone here, except one. Seeing Enyd she almost turned around remembering what they had gone through not that long ago. She gathered what little courage she had and spoke to the gathered group, “Is... ahh, is this the Cuisine tour?”

Ensign Mia Dunne


Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #6
[Hirek tr’Aimne & Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Dumedion  @RyeTanker  @rae @SummerDawn @Eirual

Hirek did not need to be an empath to feel the waves of annoyance radiating off the pint-sized chaos magnet at his side. While some men, more gentlemanly perhaps, would have given her the time and space to adjust to his presence on the ship before reinserting himself into her presence, Hirek doubted that would be nearly as much fun as what he had now decided to do. This supposed culinary tour sounded terrible, but the concept of being able to tag along by Enyd Madsen’s side, on one part, keeping her alive for the sake of her parent’s part in saving his own family, and on the other, finding endless amusement in just how much his presence goaded her into frustration was too good to ignore. He hadn’t had any firm plans of his own anyway. Maybe find a sailboat to rent and go for a spin, see what sort of sea beasties he could catch and roast on a fire for dinner. The sort of thing he’d been denied for the entirety of his ruse with the other Romulan operatives. While he had no great love for Starfleet, though no hatred either, Hirek at least appreciated his newfound freedom from the calculating eyes of his supposed compatriates.

The first to join them was another human. A shapely dark-haired woman poured into a sleek black dress trimmed in silver, a genuine feast for his eyes. And Hirek never bothered to hide his interest, when it was piqued. His lips pulling back into a sincere smile of pleasure, Hirek inclined his head at the woman’s approach and responded to Talia’s introduction before Enyd could open her mouth.

“Forgive my boldness. You look stunning, Talia, and I count myself one of the luckiest men onboard when I confirm that we are all in the right place for the culinary tour.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I am Hirek tr’Aimne, science specialist.” Shifting his weight, Hirek indicated the diplomat at his side. “It is thanks to Lieutenant Madsen’s help that I now count Theurgy as my home.”

“Temporary...home.” Enyd quipped before she could stop herself and resume a greater sense of poise in the face of his arrogance.

It was then that another bearded man, built like a bulky, meaty weapon, moved into the transporter room. Based on his verbal introduction, it was obvious this man had prior acquaintance with both the women by his side. And based on his physical one, the hand thrust out for Hirek to take in a very Terran greeting, Hirek deduced that this was the time of “sizing up” that often occurred between men. Hirek had always found such posturing to be amusing and only took part when it proved entertaining enough to hold his interest. In this particular case, Hirek felt a greater interest in pestering Enyd than in setting a pecking order with this Frank Arnold, and so accepted the handshake with a playful smile and a nod of agreement.

“Lieutenant Madsen hasn’t quite gotten around to introducing me to all her friends yet. I think it’s on account of her shyness.” He heard her snort at his side and his smile grew as he pumped Frank’s hand. “And it is indeed a tragedy that so many militaries and governments insist upon a clean-shaved visage. Safety precautions aside, a bearded man and a cool ale improve everything.”

Enyd rolled her eyes. It no longer matter that Talia, a new acquaintance, or Frank, an older one, could see her childish responses to Hirek. The honeyed-voiced Romulan was a menace, and he knew exactly how much he annoyed her, and it was equally obvious how much pleasure he was getting out of it. Damn him to the dogs!

Nysari, a new transfer into the diplomatic corps, joined them then and Enyd relished the shift of attention away from the Romulan attention whore who still stood far too close to her side than she would prefer. If he could, perhaps, shift dramatically to the side and find himself in the vacuum of space, that would be preferable. Enyd closed her eyes and realigned her thoughts. She knew she was being irrational about all this, and it needed to stop. Opening her eyes again, Enyd smiled at Nysari once the Andorian was closer to their little gathering.

“So good to see you again, Nysari. I think you’ll like this tour. It’ll take us to about eight different famed culinary spots along the riverside. Should last a few hours.” Glancing at everyone’s shoes, Enyd’s smile shifted playfully. “Hope everyone is good for walking.”

“I thought you preferred running,” Hirek drawled just as a petite woman with a colorful mane of hair joined them. At Enyd’s look, tossed over her shoulder, Hirek feigned a look of confusion, “At least that’s how I met you planet side. I believe you were running away from-“

“I think the hair is lovely.” Enyd smiled at the newcomer. Based on her interactions with Frank, it was apparent this was one of his department members. “Enyd,” she indicated herself then turned her eyes to the others, “I’m not certain if you know Talia, Nysari or…” Enyd swallowed. Despite her earlier convictions, she was still having a hard time getting over herself in regards to Hirek.

“Just call me Hirek.”

This time Enyd managed NOT to roll her eyes at the arrogant drawl in Hirek’s voice, or the show-stopping smile he tossed as easily as a horse tossed its mane. The door chirped open again and this time Mia stepped in. Enyd hadn’t really seen much of the woman since their little adventure at the Orion Outpost. In retrospect, the trip had been enjoyable, if a bit…chaotic and nearly tragic. But she wouldn’t blame Mia if, upon seeing Enyd, she felt the same trepidation Enyd felt whenever she woke up in the morning, with her thoughts wandering to the question of, ‘So what’s going to go wrong today?’

“Hey, Mia!” Enyd gave the woman a small wave as she nodded confirmation. “Yes, we were just getting ready to beam down to our first stop.” Enyd opened her purse and glanced at the brochure to jog her memory before adding, “Onok’s Bakery. It didn’t specify what the appetizer was aside from that it was a local delicacy.” Moving to position herself on the transporter pad, Enyd smiled at the others, even Hirek, since he was standing directly behind Frank. “Are we ready?”

[Meanwhile, in a darkened corner of a ne’er do well bar, somewhere in the heart of the most violent part of the First City]

The crack of bones breaking was one of Lhung’s favorite sounds. It was seconded by the wet, squishing noise when a liver was ground underfoot. If these sounds were accompanied by the squeals of fright from an innocent bystander, well, Lhung counted himself the recipient of some of the greatest music Nausicaan hands could create. Surrounded by the revelry of drunken Klingon brutes, Lhung smiled. There was always an excuse to break bones among the Klingons; the warriors up for a fight at almost the same rate as his own people.

“Hey,” Lhung looked away from a brewing fight at a nearby table, already thinking of a way to push the men over the precipice into a brawl so he could enjoy watching them. His second-in-command, Chaekom, lowered himself into the empy seat at his side, leaning close to speak in whispers yet still be heard over the raucous din. “The handler says the drop will be tonight. Behind Vok’ey’s tavern. We are to neutralize any competition by whatever means necessary and bring the goods to the docks before tomorrow morning.” Chaekom glanced at the table parallel to their own where a trio of younger but no less brawny Nausicaans sat, waiting for orders. “Do you think Grorgei and Yurdz are up for this job? I know Sochk put in a good word for them, but so far, all they’ve managed to do is get us kicked out of the Orion outpost.”

Lhung smirked as he brought his ale tankard to his lips and drank greedily of its contents. Though, as amusing as the memory was, it was true. Yurdz and Grorgei had managed to get their little group on the wrong side of the Orion’s after a certain…misunderstanding with some terribly misplaced Starfleet personnel. Lhung counted it as an act of professional courtesy that their handler, an Orion entrepreneur, had not severed their agreement entirely thanks to the idiocy of their two youngest members and newest recruits.

“I owe their father a favor,” Lhung sighed at the thought of his brother, looting somewhere along the quadrant’s edge while he sat as nursemaid to his children, “and if anything goes south tonight, we have them to sacrifice if necessary.”

Slamming his empty tankard onto the table, Lhung stood, giving his nephews a hard look, before turning towards the backdoor. They had work to do.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #7
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @RyeTanker @rae @SummerDawn @Eirual @Ellen Fitz

Head tilted, Talia couldn’t stop the genuine smile from spreading across her face at Hirek’s compliment even as her dark brown eyes flicked to Madsen as the Romulan explained his presence aboard. Hm, wonder what the story is there, she thought, noting the diplomat’s less than positive reaction to his words. As she drew breath to respond, she heard a presence enter behind her; Frank Arnold. She met the burly engineer's eyes as he laid a warm hand on her shoulder in greeting. “Hey Gramps,” she murmured, lifting her chin to him fractionally as he passed.   

Watching Frank and Hirek size each other up was amusing – but not as interesting as Madsen’s constant emotive responses to the pretty-eyed, silver tongued Romulan at her side. Gonna keep an eye on that one, she told herself, arching a brow as she caught him glancing her way whenever he could. Talia exhaled with a huff of amusement, but offered no other outward reaction.

Her observations were cut off by the arrival of an Andorian; her silver hair bound up in the most exquisite style of braids Talia had ever seen. Now that is gorgeous, she thought, blinking rapidly. The necklace she wore, the dress; the blue-skinned woman wore an aura of poise and elegance seemingly effortlessly. She threw Nysari a friendly smile and a nod as their eyes met, holding the rope of her hair unconsciously. Hm. Wonder if I could pull that look off?

On the Andorian’s heels came a lithe Bajoran woman with colorful hair, dark outfit and boots, the tiny jewels embedded in the heels sparkling. Talia grinned at her too as she nodded a quiet greeting, listening to her recommendation of beverage, noting the wink she sent to Frank. What’s that about, she wondered, none the wiser, but didn’t comment. The last to arrive looked a touch anxious, hesitating at the door with a curious look of apprehension directed at Madsen. Talia bit her lip as she smiled, waving to the blonde. She looks ready to bolt, she huffed in amusement.

As Madsen took her position on the pad, Talia followed suit even as her eyes jumped from one person to the next, memorizing faces with names. Pretty-eyes, Moody, Gramps, Duchess, Sparkles, Skiddish. This should be interesting, she smirked.

[Moments later | Outside Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’noS]

The smell and gentle breeze hit her first as she blinked the minor disorientation of transportation away. The air was...spicy, not unpleasant, but degrees different from the carefully controlled artificial atmosphere of the Theurgy. The humidity hit her next, an oppressive blanket of moisture coupled with heat; Talia blew out a breath of air, thankful for the thin fabric of her dress. Whew, hello. Her eyes were drawn to the beach next, off to her right. Black volcanic sand, the rolling thunder of waves, the distant setting sun framed by towering thunderclouds. “Well that’s a view,” she thought aloud, grinning.

She hadn’t considered the effect of windy conditions on her attire, cursing under her breath as her dress blew open at her legs almost completely, a tight smile on her face. Stupid wind, she rolled her eyes as her hand went to hold the damn thing in place. Less than a minute planet side and you flash the whole damn town. Way to go ace, she huffed, doing her best to ignore the glances and open stares of the throng of locals around them.

The group stood off to the side of a wide avenue, the tiered city of D’Takka rising off to the left like some stone-wrought ziggurat from ancient Earth – the buildings and towers and streets lit with roaring braziers. Talia took a moment to compose herself, her eyes drinking in the peculiar architecture. Damn, there’s history here, the faded embers of the former researcher in her beamed.

So,” she sighed, smoothing her dress as the wind subsided, “where we headed,” she asked aloud, looking around at the various storefronts and buildings marked with Klingon runes and imagery. She didn’t read or speak a lick of it, but she knew the smell of bread well enough. Lifting her chin, she caught the subtle scent of flour in the air as her eyes saw a holographic image of runic symbols flashing around a piece of bread being eaten in half. “That might be it,” she pointed. Then the sign changed to another image of what looked like melons being squeezed. The fuck?Oh, maybe not,” she added quickly.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #8
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy]   Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @rae @SummerDawn @Eirual

Frank eyes twinkled as the smooth son of a bitch gave the best answer one could hope for on a tour and his smile turned into a lopsided smirk as the Romulan took his hand, which Frank returned with a solid grip and a good squeeze on the attached arm.  Fortunately, one didn't spend as long in Starfleet and being around diplomats without learning a thing or two, so he killed with 'kindness' I do believe we're going to have a good night. The engineer's internal monologue went off before he mentally cracked his knuckles and began to motor mouth at the new Romulan.   "A most excellent suggestion Hirek, I can call you Hirek right? Great! Excellent.  Glad we got that out of the way.  Now, I've heard many a good thing about Romulan Ale, never had it myself, illegal in the Federation, but there should be some good substitutes for us to lubricate the evening and considering how well organized Enyd is, this should be an excellent trip.  Seeing as how this is a food tour, are you going for the all you can eat live gagh buffet at Pin’Om’s Eater?  I hear there's a blood wine mug you can win if you manage to down 3 pounds of the squirming bastards in an hour." Frank was totally bullshitting, but if the mood he was getting off Enyd was correct, then friends had to help out friends and since her Andorian and Romulan actual friend weren't around, it was up to him for the time being.  The door whooshed and a familiar blue haired Bajoran engineer walked in. "Ah, a colleague. Gimme a moment will you? Thanks."

Frank separated himself with equal parts grace and rudeness as he went to greet his fellow Engineer and waved at her as he smiled.  Nodding in agreement that Engineering was making a strong showing; supposedly, Azrin was on the planet having left earlier.  Salt and pepper eye brow quirked as he picked up the reference to the incident on Breshtant.  As a department head and the main engineer for dealing with that teams near disastrous return, he knew his assistant had gone through something traumatic.  A lot of details surrounding the actual mission were missing or highly classified, still as he'd told Azrin a while ago, Marika was coming along nicely, so aside from a change in hair colour and dress, her work hadn't suffered and her head seemed to be in the right spot.  Frank nodded his understanding and made a mental note to try the Ale as soon as he could unless work got out and the price of the stuff went up drastically.

Frank looked up again as a blonde stopped in the door way, and gave off the impression of a deer caught in headlights as she asked if this was culinary tour group.  The Chief Engineer had no idea why the woman was just short of terrified unless she was having second thoughts about the gagh, but a big arm waved the woman in. "Indeed Miss, you've found the right departure gate, come on in, no need to be shy  We're all here for a grand ole time."

With the departure time fast approaching a no more people showing up, Frank shrugged and made his way over to transporter pad.  Maybe Jaya would show up later, maybe not, only she knew.  At least Enyd appeared to be in somewhat better spirits, but that could be a front for all he knew as her eyes had to pass over Hirek to see him.  With friends like this, who needs enemies? The Engineer thought to to himself as Enyd gave the command to energize.

[End of Transport Cycle | Outside Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’noS]

The shimmering field faded and Frank took a moment to take in the view of the building in front of him and the smell of a ships finely tuned environmental system was replaced by that of an actual living breathing city.  He wanted to say it had been a long time since he'd breathed this type of air, but having headed to Aldea, it was now something different.  Looking around, the area looked like a town where a festival was in full swing.  Given the Klingon's penchant for fighting, the recent round must have bouyed spirits quite a bit and there were raucous waves of laughter or roaring from various quarters as warriors and citizens left and right shared in copious quantities of drink and merriment.

Same with Talia, he assumed the building in front of them was a bakery and as he looked at it, he took in the metal work that gave the place a fortress aesthetic, but the details of small pinnacles and spire were well crafted into the facade giving the store a sense of grace that accompanied it's foreboding appearance.  Frank was delighted to find their first stop was an actual bakery instead of a place pretending to be one and serving something else entirely.  Talia's comment drew his attention to the holographic sign and it reinforced his view that the place was an honest to goodness bakery, then the signage changed and he heard the pilot curse.  Frank laughed at the pair of melons pouring out their juice after pressure had been applied.  The Klingons sure knew how to market.  Juice and bread it was to start.  "Well Hirek, looks like ale might have to wait, but as far as snacks go, this looks like a good place to start."

Shaking his head as his eyes twinkled, Frank took a look at the window and saw what appeared to be bread and cakes in the window, so he headed to the door and opened it to be hit in the face with the smell of bread, spices, and general melange that said 'cooked food'.  Despite the overall metal and red tone of the store, he could see shelves of loaves and counters with pastries and other fillings for the bread.  True to form, some items even appeared to be moving. Shaking his head again, Frank waved the tour group over. "This looks like the place, come on over now.  You too string bean!  Yes you Talia, come on!  It smells pretty good in here!"  Frank held the door open as everyone entered and as he followed, he didn't mind admitting his ignorance of the shop's contents.  "So ummmmmm,  Nysari do you know much about what this shop has or anything you'd recommend? I'm generally a very meat, potato, and salad kind of guy. " he asked the Andorian attaché in the group.

Lieutenant (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark), Combat Medic [Show/Hide]

Lieutenant Frank Arnold, Chief Engineer [Show/Hide]

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #9
[ Lt. JG Nysarisiza “Nysari” zh’Eziarath | Transporter Room 3 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @RyeTanker @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @Eirual @SummerDawn

This was her second time meeting Lieutenant Frank Arnold in as many days. Once again, Nysari was under the distinct impression that the large engineer had missed his calling. He should have been a diplomat. He summed up the situation and jumped into the spotlight with easy grace, matching the Romulan’s quick tongue. He laid it on perhaps a bit too thick for her tastes, but that was acceptable given the informal environment. Besides, given the way Enyd was reacting to him, their green blooded companion could use someone taking him down a peg - or five.

As Frank seemed to have that well in hand, Nysari turned her focus to her fellow diplomat’s greeting instead. “Thank you for the invite. I’m sure I’ll find it most illuminating, hopefully my stomach will agree.” Though she’d prepared for it, there was always the chance that the medications would wear off if they exceeded Enyd’s proposed time limit. Her mouth was open to continue on with a comment on footwear specifically chosen with travel in mind, when they were interrupted by the Romulan yet again, apparently unable to resist a quick interjection.

Enyd seemed determined to ignore him, so Nysari took up the banner instead. Those who poked and prodded for reactions did not always enjoy pushback from those who weren’t the intended target. “Is running a reaction you often invoke upon meeting people? How distressing. I know a number of etiquette programs on the holodeck that might cure you of such an ailment, if you’d like.” The lines were delivered with every ounce of polite sincerity she could muster, an insult wrapped in concern wrapped in an offer of help. A politician's standard, trained in the heart of Paris. She capped it off with a sweet smile, allowing a hint of mirth to fill her bright blue eyes, before turning away to meet the others who had since entered. If the Romulan - Hirek, she caught his name moments later - wanted to play games, Nysari was more than happy to join in.

They were adding color to the party now, joined by a Bajoran whose bright hair more than made up for her dark attire and a human in dark blue. The normally muted color should have stood out among the sea of black dresses in the room, but Mia looked like she’d rather sink into the floor instead. “Welcome,” she greeted, offering the blonde a gentle smile that was far more authentic than what Hirek had just received, hoping to emanate a sense of ease while Enyd and Frank answered her questions. Nothing to fear here - besides the food.

Hirek and Mia were the ones to watch tonight, Nysari decided, though both for different reasons. Summing up the various personalities she’d seen so far - with more people sure to join in as the night went on - this tour was going to be far from boring. Now that they’d reached the departure time, Nysari joined the others on the transporter pad, letting the beam take her as Enyd gave the order and they all dissolved into the bright lights.

[When everyone’s molecules are (hopefully) back in place | Outside Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’noS]

The first thing she was aware of was the heat. The Andorian let out a silent sigh. Even the lightest of fabrics never prepared her for this, her body meant for the freezing temperatures of home. She focused instead on the rumble of waves, the breeze that offered the slightest reprieve to the oppressive humidity, and the thunder that hinted of a cooling rain. The thought brightened her spirits. On Andoria, rain was a rare and dangerous experience, water that froze the moment it made contact. She’d never experienced a summer thunderstorm until she’d come to Earth, wild and beautiful, a chaotic dance of wind and rain. As she gazed at the storm waiting on the horizon, Nysari thought that such a storm would fit Qo’noS perfectly. The Klingons enjoying themselves in every direction proved that point quite well.

When the others pointed out the bakery, Nysari joined them in looking up at the sign, sounding out the name with her limited Klingon knowledge. “No, this is the correct place. Onok’s.” She shook her head slightly as the sign flipped to a new design. Not what one commonly expected when visiting a bakery, but when on Qo’noS… “I believe that’s a Ka'Tarlk. It is a fruit that shares similarities to citruses.” Rather than directly comment on the image itself, she’d opted for the historian’s approach. If anyone was distrubed now, wait until they made it to a bar.

At Frank’s prompting, she followed the other’s inside, ending up near the back with the engineer as he came in. “If you want meat, I’m sure you will be well taken care of, though you will be disappointed if you want it cooked. Typically, they bake the bread then carve out a pocket to insert the gagh. That way it stays fresh and doesn’t expire from the cooking temperatures. Hopefully the people in charge of this tour planned it with our dietary requirements in mind. On average, Klingons are hardier than most Federation races - perks of multiple stomachs and livers - so some of their food can be quite toxic. I know they ferment some fruits before cooking them into pastries. By the time they’re finished, the alcohol content is impressive.” she gestured towards a case off to their right, thick breads with creamy filling dripping from the sides and slices of fruit accenting the tops. “Unfortunately, I do not know which one it is.”

“Ah, it looks like they’re ready for us.” An oversized Klingon in an apron was navigating out of the back with a tray in hand. She wondered how he even fit in the shop, or saw where to step from behind his wild mane of hair. He looked more fit to swing his bat’leth in the middle of a battlefield, but here he was baking. As someone who hated violence, she approved of his choice. From their position in the back of the group, Nysari couldn’t see what he was bringing, but it was probably the local delicacy Enyd had mentioned earlier. Time to dig in.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #10
OOC: Just thought I'd throw a wee curveball before @SummerDawn or others post. Cheers!

“Ha'DibaH!” Pimlargh, the third daughter of BorghwIw', growled at her oversized husband, kicking his feet off the stool as she bustled past him. “The tour will be here soon! And the bloodwine battertoast is still in the oven! Do I have to do everything around here?”

Her husband, Ruvoy, fifth son of Tlhurghwob, built like a warrior but ever robbed of battle glory, heaved a sigh of such magnitude the fire in the oven seemed to flicker. His wife had a singular ability to break in through his daydreams just when they were getting to their bloodiest.

“toDSaH woman!” Ruvoy leaned forward, braced his hands on his knees, and hoisted his immense girth off the stool with at least three winces. “Young Tughwurgh pulled them out of the oven some time ago. They’ve been on the back rack cooling.” He shooed his wife away from the back door before she could move to grab the bread herself. “How about you go take care of the liver loaf while I see to the tourists, eh?”

Pimlargh harrumphed before pivoting on her heel and marching into the adjoining room. It was in those moments that Ruvoy remembered why he’d married her. The way her nostrils flared and the blood in her cheeks deepened her skin tone in anger…oh, it stirred his gut like nothing else. Thoughts of mating with his wife lightened his mood as Ruvoy grabbed hold of the pan of gooey bread and made his way to intercept the group he now spotted coming in from the street. Nodding his greeting as he dropped the pan on the outdoor table set up specifically for this event, Ruvoy did not see the four 'obray'wal curled up in the shadows of the fluffy toast. This scorpion-like creature loved the taste of blood, and no one in the bakery had given a second thought to leaving the toast out in the open to cool. This had offered the perfect opportunity for this arachnid-esque fiend to suck at the bloodwine-infused toast, now potentially laying in wait for unsuspecting tourists to strike.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #11
[Ens. Mia Dunne |   Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’noS]
ATTN: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion  @RyeTanker  @rae  @SummerDawn

The young Ensign materialized on the planet’s surface. This was the third time she’d been planet side and so far the first two trips were anything but calm. She really hoped this tour would be pleasant, although she was a bit leery of trying to eat anything still moving. The heat that hit her when she materialized was anything but comfortable even with the breeze coming off the nearby body of water that helped just a little. Mia was glad she’d chosen a lightweight dress, although she was debating if a bikini might have been more comfortable. She listened to the other members of the group talk about the sign that was brightly lit over the entrance of the bakery and smiled as she too glanced up at the odd depiction of fruit juice. She followed the others into the establishment, breathing in the scent of fresh baked breads and spices. “Maybe this won’t be so bad,” She whispered to herself as she stayed towards the back of the group. She peeked over someone’s shoulder to see a very large Klingon carrying a tray into the room. She almost stepped back at the sight of him, but someone else was right behind her blocking her in. She was trying to remember everyone’s names, but the introductions were so fast that the only name she was sure of was Enyd’s, so she just stayed quiet and looked for a better vantage point. She moved a little to the side so she could see better and give herself a little more space.

She was feeling a bit claustrophobic after her last outing. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she mumbled to herself as she took a deep breath to try to remain calm and not race for the door. She stood quietly and looked around at the pastries on the shelves that the Andorian woman had talked about. At least there were no squirming things pouring out of them. Just that idea made her stomach roil in protest. She forced the thought out of her mind and told herself to stop thinking those kinds of thoughts.

Mia brought her attention back to the Klingon in front of the group and wondered if they had anything that didn’t have alcohol or live creatures in it. It had been a long time since she’d had anything resembling alcohol and didn’t think her metabolism would handle it too well, meaning that she thought she would get drunk and most likely embarrass the group, Starfleet, The Ship, and mostly herself.  Well, at this point she did not care if Starfleet was affected, not really. If anyone had been watching her, they would have noticed how she was nervously opening and closing the small purse hanging at her side.

Ensign Mia Dunne


Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #12
[Hirek tr’Aimne & Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’Nos ] Attn: @Dumedion @RyeTanker @rae  @Eirual @SummerDawn

Hirek delighted in the vast differences to be found among these associates of Enyd. There was obvious loyalty displayed by more than a few towards Enyd, their reluctance to effusive greet him or their intentional gruffness both bearing testimony to the underlying bond. One response in particular that intrigued Hirek was the young blonde female who had seen Enyd on the transporter pad and visibly blanched in response. While there did not seem to be any ill will held between the two, at the same time, this blonde in blue had experienced something with Enyd that gave her reason to be cautious. Hirek smirked. Considering how he’d met the brunette lieutenant, he could only imagine.

The Andorian diplomat, Nysari, had fire in her veins, relying on her diplomatic skills to attempt a cut at Hirek’s ego. Hirek’s eyebrow rose, a playful smile crinkling at the edges of his eyes and tugging at his lips.

“That is most kind of you, Nysari. Perhaps we could partake in the program together, so you can explain the more complex points to me. I am, after all, a Romulan, and the intricate nuances of social ailments often allude us." He refrained from the wink he felt the temptation to throw in her direction but Hirek did give in for the overly polite nod, a hand covering his heart in feigned gratitude.

Introductions, pontifications, and expressions of hope made, and the group transported to the planet. They were immediately embraced by the seaside atmosphere of D’Takka. Allowing himself a brief moment of authentic expression, should others choose to see it, Hirek closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the familiar scents of the sea, a smile of peaceful contentment pulling at the edges of his lips. It did not matter the planet, so it was proving to be, but anywhere there was the sea, and Hirek felt at home.

Talia’s question broke through Hirek’s momentary reverie, and as quickly as the wave of joyous calm had washed over him, his features settled back into the typical expression of sardonic amusement. His gaze traveled over the various signs of vendors, waving and tapping against each other in the sea breeze, before he took note of the reason for Talia’s pause and Frank’s laughter. He slanted a feigned grin of lechery towards Enyd, amusement slithering into his gut when she rolled her eyes and chose to speak with the Andorian diplomat instead of responding to his infantile prodding. Did she even realize how entertaining she was to annoy?

“Nysari,” Enyd shifted closer to her fellow diplomat as they moved into the bakery, “have you ever made Andorian spiced ale cookies? I got the recipe from one of my old classmates from my time on Andoria and I was told nearly every house has its own version of the sweet.”

Once inside, the Klingon baker, a man more warrior-looking than many warriors Hirek had thus far seen, announced their fare as he brought out the fresh tray of bloodwine battertoast and unceremoniously dropped it on the table that had been prepared for their tour. As he’d never signed up for the tour and had only joined because of serendipitous fate, there was no seat for him. But that didn’t stop Hirek from dropping in nice and close next to Enyd, making sure his shoulders were tightly pressed against hers, the baker frowning before turning to seize hold of another chair and dropping it at the far end of the long table. For her part, Enyd continued her efforts to ignore him and instead concentrated on the battertoast waiting for them.

“While it isn’t ale, Klingon bloodwine does have its own sting.” Hirek tossed the comment Frank’s way, not yet reaching for the snack, content to watch the fellow tourists settle themselves around the table. Looking over to Nysari, he added, “The alcohol is used as a passive ‘cooking’ agent for the raw meats, cleansing it of parasites and making it easier to digest. I think if those with lower tolerance limit themselves to one of these beauties, we should be able to continue on to the next stage of the tour without drunken misbehavior.” 

Enyd bit her tongue, rising above her own immature desire to point out that there was no “we” with Hirek, as he’d never signed up for the tour. She knew this as she’d been the one to confirm the numbers and names with the tour agency. But as she’d rather enjoy the evening and avoid a diplomatic incident, that of a food fight with an irksome Romulan, Enyd brought a smile back to her face as she eagerly looked around at the fellow tour patrons.

“I was told that Onok’s bakery has the best bloodwine battertoast on the planet. They get the bloodwine from local breweries and mill their own flour in the back.” Enyd reached for the first bit of toast as she continued, “Legends tell of a Klingon fisherman who won over a vengeful mermaid who’d been drowning fellow fisherman by dropping this toast into the sea. Then, when she ventured on land to eat some more, he cut out her heart and used her blood to make this present recipe. To this day, the locals claim to use mermaid blood for their wine. A local tavern song about the story is considered one of the most romantic in the area.”

While Enyd brought the toast closer for a bite, she did not see that one of the ‘obray’wal was still a passenger on the unseen side of the tasty treat. Hirek did, and without warning, he slapped the toast out of Enyd’s hand, sending both toast and ‘obray’wal soaring across the table to land at the far end closest to the poor tourist who’d chosen to sit there. Enyd first felt shock, then anger, and finally confusion.

“What –“

Enyd’s question was cut off by a blood-curdling scream mere seconds before the table in front of her seemed to explode into a series of splinters, the victim of attack, once the remaining ‘obray’wal made themselves known to both proprietor and visitors and their destruction was mightily sought after. Eyes darting to the heavens as bedlam erupted around her, Enyd sighed out a series of plaintive curses to the stars that seemed to hate her.


Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #13
[Ens. Talia Al-Ibrahim | Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’Nos ] Attn: @RyeTanker @rae @Eirual @Ellen Fitz @SummerDawn
Talia threw Gramps a smirk as she approached the bakery; shooting the chief engineer a look that said ‘String bean? That the best you can do?’ with a twitch of her muscled arms just for sport as she passed. Once inside the bakery, her eyes looked over the décor and various food stuffs with interest, having never stepped foot in such an establishment before. Klingons liked their fires, and wood apparently, as almost everything seemed to be made of the same dark, glossy paneling trimmed with an iron-like metal. She smelled bread, and smoke, and spices; and rows of those peculiar looking fruits lined upon shelves off on the side. She remembered Duchess had mentioned their name; carchalk huh, she grunted, blinking as her mind chewed the name over. The Andorian certainly seemed to know her way around Klingons; Talia caught the word ‘meat’ from the conversation, which pulled her already divided attention to what the diplomat was saying. Wait, Klingons have multiple stomachs?

Caught up in all the sights and smells, she’d completely forgotten that she had quite literally stopped in her tracks, blocking traffic – only when Skiddish and Sparkles tried to move around her did she scramble out of the way, off to the far side towards the fruits with a murmured apology. Glancing at the blonde after Mia muttered something about ‘a bad idea’, Talia offered a kind smile at the poor girl’s look of apprehension. “C’mon, it’ll be fine,” she whispered a reply, jerking her head off to the side. “Want to try some juice with me,” she asked with an encouraging grin, as the big Klingon lumbered into the scene with their tray of samples. Talia arched a brow at him and the offerings, wondering why he appeared so grumpy, but didn’t comment; she just huffed an amused breath as he dumped the tray down on the table – then waved him over after picking up a heavy mug from the table below the fruits.

The large fellow took his time coming over after grabbing a chair for Hirek, eyeing her over with what Talia interpreted as an unimpressed grunt; unsure what to say, the pilot just lifted her mug and pointed at one of the melons. With a fanged grin, the apron covered baker gripped one in a huge hand, as Pretty-Eyes and Moody chatted. Without a word of warning, the big man poked the side of the fleshy orb with a blade and squeezed – chuckling and grunting at her all the while. Talia narrowed her eyes at him, brows knitting as she watched his beady eyes dart up and down her body – turning her face into a ‘grow the fuck up’ look of annoyance. “Okay, I think I can take it from here big guy,” she growled at him, snatching the fruit and squeezing the rest herself – grunting right back.

It didn’t seem to have the effect she wanted, as the big man’s face split in an even wider grin, his head bobbing enthusiastically. Damn, that's a lot of juice, Talia thought with a frown, shaking the last few drops out into her mug, then tossed the remnants over to him. Just as he caught it, and Talia was raising the mug to her lips, she felt something slightly damp smack her right in the ear – splattering the side of her face with wetness. The fuck, she managed to think as she turned, unconsciously swiping the remnants of bloody toast across the side of her face as a blur of red soared past her vision; her brain processed it as a blob of clawed digits clutching at the air. Her eyes followed it, seeing something attached to the big baker’s face – something that should not be there, that had no right to exist outside of hell itself. She swung her mug at it with everything she had on instinct, as someone started screaming. It might have been her.

The juice contents of the mug vanished in the wind-up, mostly; the rest splattered over the poor baker’s head on impact. The arachnid – whatever it was – leaped from his face at the last second, sailing over Talia’s shoulder with its limbs splayed in the air. She registered the jarring impact up her arm, the dull thonk of mug hitting flesh, and the baker’s confused grunt as he staggered to the side – then collapsed completely – falling like a dead tree, right into the table prepared for them. His weight launched the entire spread into the air; a literal explosion of baked-goods shrapnel, mixed with even more arachnids. Chaos reigned.

Where’d it go? Where’d it go,” Talia screamed, eyes wild with adrenaline, spinning around with her iron-mug raised high to strike as hell descended on everyone.

Re: Day 15 [1727 hrs] An Rousing Experience of Klingon Culinary Confusion

Reply #14
[ Lieutenant Frank Arnold | Onok’s Bakery | D’Takka | Qo’Nos ]  

Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion @rae @SummerDawn @Eirual

It was natural to treat anything new as suspicious and everyone dealt with it in their own way.  Frank had grossly over simplified in being a meat an potato sort of guy.  It meant he ate foods that to many humans, looked like food without all the usual cultural assumptions one normally had.  Some of the pasties and buns looked recognizable, and he had picked out a bag that appeared to be on the milder side of what appeared to be food in case the bloodwine battered toast was found to be disagreeable.  Taking a seat across the table from Enyd, and between Nysari and Mia Dunne, he regarded the plate curiously as he was not sure if the burgundy colour of the toast was natural or if it came from the colour tone of the lighting.  Not content at all to dive into the culinary 'delicacy', his brows furrowed as he intently stared at the bread and let his internal debate rage over whether to eat the thing.

The furrowed brow somehow became even more furrowed as he swore the bread jiggled of it's own accord and this was enough for him to decide to not eat the Klingon expression of culinary creativity.  The story Enyd told of the toast didn't add any sort of incentive.  The Chief Engineer balled his fists on the table as he looked up at the brunette to seek assistance in finding a way to avoid eating the bread.  This gave him the perfect view when the salt and pepper Romulan sitting next to her smacked the bread out of her hand with all the force a Vulcanoid naturally processed.  Frank's initial reaction was that Hirek was upping the level of rudeness he was showing Enyd, but the intuitive sense kicked in and made the linkage to the bread moving on it's own and his arm lanced out to grab the back of Nysari's dress while his other arm flew out in front of the blonde scientist and he naturally leaned back sending all three tumbling onto the floor.   Frank had a mere moment to wonder if he'd gone crazy when his eyes widened as a mass of bread, pointy claws, mandibles, legs, and a nasty looking stinger went flying over his face just as a very high pitched scream emanated from somewhere in the store.  To be fair, he wasn't sure if he was the one doing the screaming either.

Frank got lucky as the ‘obray’wal had been intending to sting the human in the face and the stinger was engaged in mid flight, missing by a few mere centimetres and sending it cartwheeling in mid air to land on it's back.  It took a moment for the arachnid to right itself and try to turn around seeking it's bearded prey once more and Frank flipped over bringing himself to face with the monstrous looking insect.  What in the hell is that??! Frank thought to himself before his boxer instincts took over and a fist lanced out at the bug which sensed the strike and tried to jump out of the way.  It almost made it, but the bug was facing the wrong way to get a full picture of what to avoid and it was sent cartwheeling again from the impact.  Had it been capable of speech, the bug surely would have been cursing its fate being so close to a massive meal only to be foiled.  It probably would have also surprised at where it landed when it connected with the relatively soft leg of another patron where the stinger immediately engaged on instinct and stabbed the unfortunate man causing him to roar in pain as only a Klingon could.

The sting victim stared enraged at the beast stuck to it's leg and using his blood boiling strength and reflexes, smacked the offending insect off his leg.   Too preoccupied and stuck, the insect was smacked dead on and sent flying through the open kitchen doors where the proprietress was looking out to see what all the commotion was about and cursing up a storm in the process.  As her mind registered the threat inside her establishment, she screamed a war cry that reverberated through the store and charged in amongst her ovens to smash the offending beasts.

Frank watched pandemonium break out as the stabbed patron seized up, then fell over twitching and foaming at the mouth.  This seemed to enrage the other patrons who set about trying to smash the critters, or in their confusion begin punching or throwing each other around the store. "Ladies! I believe this is our invitation to disembark the crazy train!" Frank yelled to everyone just as a blood maddened drunk Klingon took a swing at his head and missed as Frank ducked.  The human boxer delivered a three hit combo that staggered the inebriated attacker who seemed to stumble a bit as his eyes rolled into the back of his head before taking a wild swing that Frank easily dodged as he sidestepped.  Only to see the soon to be unconscious man teeter then try to grab onto Nysari for support.  This failed miserably as he then collapse on top of her, pinning her underneath 250 pounds of sweaty, fermented smelling, knocked out, drooling, hapless Klingon man. "Definitely time to leave."  Frank concluded as he ducked a flying plate before moving to help the Andorian diplomat from her predicament.
Lieutenant (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark), Combat Medic [Show/Hide]

Lieutenant Frank Arnold, Chief Engineer [Show/Hide]

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