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EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

[LCdr Blue Tiran | Busy Hands – Busy Minds | Bad Habits | Focus on Something – Anything | Panic Attacks Unwelcome]
@Fife


It had been about two hours, now, since Blue Tiran had been released from medical care with the promise that she would seek counseling.  Blue had already been in counseling, and it never did shit for her.  But, the fuckers in Sickbay didn't know much of anything going on with her and they probably just needed the mother fucking bed.  Which was completely fine.  She didn't want to be in that God forsaken place any more than they wanted her to.  She had become a ghost.. for a little while.  Trailing around after Ducote in their Quarters.  Never separated from him much.  When she took her first shower since coming on board, she had made him stay in the room.  She had talked to him through the door without really having any meaning.  Just... idle chatter, because she needed to check to make sure he was still there.  That he wasn't a figment of her imagination.

Ducote had to leave, Ives had called him, and she was not ready.  She had followed him around and he had fed her, cuddled with her, and held her since she got home.  Minus the shower.  She had taken the longest shower probably in Starfleet history today, but she still felt dirty, greasy, and grimy.  Then he had told her that he had to leave.  While he got himself dressed she had taken his combadge and began to make adjustments.  She had replicated a small device and placed it into the interior workings of his combadge before closing the casing again.  Once he came back out he asked her what she had done and she told him there was something wrong with it and fixed it.

She was waiting for him to call her out on her shit, but he didn't, just popped his combadge on and headed out for his meeting. 

She took a minute, a full minute, before she started feeling really panicked.  First it was slight, it was just her chewing on her nails and pacing back and forth over and over again.  The Quarters was small and she hadn't really needed a lot of room before but everything was missing.  All her things, and all her pieces, all her projects.  Everything was gone and there was so much she couldn't replace.  Ducote was gone.  She tried to sit down on the couch and that wasn't better.  Her foot was bouncing, her leg was bouncing, and her nails were getting bloody at this point before she finally decided she couldn't stand here any more. 

“Albert, where is Commander Ducote.”

[Commander Ducote, is in the Ready Room of the Bridge.  Presumably for his meeting with Captain Ives.]

“How long is that going to take?”

[Miss Blue, there is nothing to base a determination of time accumulation on said meetings with the Captain Ives.]

“Fucking worthless piece of shit.” she cursed.

[There is no excrement of any value found in this Quarters.]

“Oh shut the fuck up.” she grumbled. 

She paced a little bit more.  “Okay, where is Cross?”

[I regret to inform you that the internal scanning sweep devices are unavailable at this time.  You may try back later.]

“Fuck!  Who the fuck was running this fucking ship?!”

[I am incapable of accessing the database at this time, Miss Blue.]

“Oh fuck!” she sighed.  “I have to get out of this fucking place.”

[I believe that it would be wise to stay put.  As Commander Ducote may return at any point.]

“Where is he?”

[Commander Ducote is still in the ready room.]

She picked up Albert and put him on her shoulder.  His talons clipped into the small metallic additions to her Engineering uniform.  She palmed the door panel and quickly headed out.  She pulled out her PADD and checked the deck plans, she could at least read that.  Finally, she figured out where Sickbay was, she could at least check for Cross there.  If he wasn't there she would track his Vulcan butt down because she fucking would.  She needed to check on him.  So she worked her way through the ship.  No one knew her, but she had a new uniform, new pips, but she didn't have a combadge or anything.  Not that she needed one. 

“Albert, where is Ducote.”

[Commander Ducote is currently in the Ready Room on the Bridge, presumably in his meeting with Captain Ives.]

“Good.” she stated as she hit the turbolift and began to pick the deck she needed to go to.


The turbolift opened up and she stepped out.  Heading to the chaos that was still Sickbay, she stepped in and looked around.  Several people remembered her because she had only been released a couple hours ago.  She could see one of the nurses coming over towards her making a bee-line.

“Commander Tiran, are you feeling all right?  Do you need more medical care?  Where is Commander Ducote.”

Tiran's blue eyes shifted over to the nurse and her brow rose.  “I'm looking for Lieutenant Cross.”  she said quickly. 

“Oh.  Uh, we aren't really up for any visitors.”

“The fuck you aren't.  I'm not taking no for an answer.  Where is Lieutenant Cross?” she asked not giving a choice in the matter. 

“Uh, um.  I just...”

“Get me .. fucking Cross.  Right the fuck now.”

“Where is Commander Ducote?”

“I'm NOT AN INVALID!” she screamed.  “Take me to Cross!”

The nurse widened her eyes quickly and nodded looking down at the PADD in her hand.  “Stall eleven.” she pointed and quickly turned away as Blue brushed passed her as quickly as she could and made for Cross. 

As she stepped into the stall she saw him laying in the bed, she hoped that he was all right.  Bandages were already gone, and she sighed softly, as she crossed over to him, the whole thing looked a lot better.  She figured that someone had come at it and fixed it.  They had probably done whatever they could but the hand could not easily be replaced.  So she stepped up to him a bit of a grin playing on her features. 

“Hey, you napping with out me you asshole?”

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #1
[ Lt. Cross | Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]It had been eight hours since the Versant survivors had been beamed aboard the USS Theurgy, and Cross had spent the majority of that time waiting to be seen by the doctors in the Theurgy’s sickbay. The place was overrun, with more patients than the sickbay had ever been designed to accommodate. Cross hadn’t minded waiting. He was in pain, and his wound looked horrible, the burns angry and the flesh mangled, but he was alert and stable. Not everyone crowding into the sickbay could say as much.

Now, after hours of waiting and having finally been seen, Cross had had his arm healed as best they could. The stump and the end of his left arm now ended in clean, healthy skin rather than the torn and seared mass of flesh that it had previously sported. What other minor injuries Cross had had been quickly dealt with, the doctor attempting to lecture him on proper battlefield wound care until Cross had snarled at him to shut the hell up. The man acted as though Cross had enjoyed stabbing his severed limb against a metal bulkhead heated with a phaser. The smell had been dreadful, and Cross could almost smell it again as he remembered the moment.

The smell had been nothing when compared to the pain.

That was all behind him now, though. He was alive, almost in one piece, and in sickbay. His wounds had been treated, his pain relieved, and he had been ordered to report back once things had slowed to have his arm fitted for a prosthetic. He had been ordered to stay in sickbay for the next hour or so for observation, though 20 minutes had passed since they had told him that and he had yet to see anyone observing him. Cross wanted to get out of there, the idea of being in a medical facility making him uncomfortable. Though it was of obviously different design, the sickbay kept making him think of the Savi labs, and of his correction. The idea of having anything but necessary treatments performed on him made his newly intensified anger threaten to rise in him again.

He needed to get out of there. He needed to get out of there soon.

As he lay on the medical bed with eyes closed, wondering if his disappearance would even be noticed, he heard a commotion outside in the main sickbay area. A very familiar commotion. As he heard the all to familiar voice of Blue Tiran screaming the words “I’m not an invalid” at someone, followed by the words “Take me to Cross!”, a smile spread across the Vulcan’s features. He absently wondered how many twinkies the sugar-crazed engineer had eaten since being released from sickbay. He had been relieved to see his friend reunited with Commander Ducote. Happy to see that, just maybe, the piece of Blue Tiran that had been hurting so much following his loss would have a chance to heal after all. He envied her the bond that she shared with him. That being said, something in the tone of her screaming outside his medical treatment cubicle made him think that all was not well with the Lieutenant Commander. His eyes opened as he heard someone approach, the poor nurse outside no doubt having given up his location so as to save herself from the wrath of Blue Tiran. It was just as well, Cross mused. With the Theurgy in such a damaged state, there was no guarantee that the call for a Blue Alert would make it to Commander Ducote.

Cross’ eyes fell on Blue as she stepped into his stall, taking her in. She looked clean, the filth that had covered her from her time aboard the Versant having been washed away. Her eyes still looked sunken, her frame thinner than it had been before their ordeal, but she looked better. Cross returned Blue’s smile as she drew nearer, glad to see the Blue Tiran from the Endeavour peeking through the matted and malnourished Blue that he had slept next to on the Versant.

”Hey, you napping without me you asshole?”

Cross chuckled at her words, his grin growing wider. ”If you keep terrorizing nurses like that we’ll be napping in the brig.” Cross shot back, awkwardly sitting himself up on the medical bed and swinging his legs off the side, letting them dangle just shy of reaching the floor. He studied Blue, his eyes narrowing briefly as they fell on the damned tin pigeon perched on her shoulder before maving back to meet hers. ”You look better. Cleaner at least.” His grin turned mischievous, ”I have to say, the naps will be nicer without the smell.” He recoiled slightly as she swatted at him, chuckling all the while.

”Have a look!” Cross said, changing the subject. He held up his arm, showing the fresh, healthy skin at the end of his left arm. ”All patched up. Not quite good as new, but it certainly looks better.” He let the arm fall into his lap, as he continued. ”I’d say you could hop up and nap on the medical bed with me, but I wasn’t joking about that nurse calling security.” Cross reached up with his good hand and tapped one of his pointed ears, ”Vulcan hearing. She called for security just after you came in. We should probably get out of here.”

That said, Cross hopped down off the medical bed and shrugged out of his medical gown, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. The nurse had let him put on pants once they had got him out of the Savi uniform, which he had insisted they give back to him, and now he took up his shirt and jacket. He turned his back to Blue for a moment as he awkwardly donned the clothing, the fabric quickly covering the myriad of scars on his back. Once dressed, he turned back to her and grinned. ”Shall we?” He asked as he gestured towards the exit. ”We just got out of one prison. I’d rather not be forced to nap in another.” Cross was still worried about the tone in those screams. Worried that, while she looked much better physically, Blue Tiran was still hanging on by a thread. He wanted to get her out of sickbay, away from people. Somewhere quiet where they could talk.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #2
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Getting Whet | Food and Booze | Another Round | Comfort and Cross]
@Fife



Cross seemed happy to see her.

They had shared a lot of trama, a couple naps, and some good old fashioned deep shit talk.  Blue was not very big on sharing her past with anyone.  She didn't really share it with Cross either, there were things that only Ranaan Erich Ducote would ever fucking know about her.  Her family was one of them.  Sure, she figured that it was petty to hold onto a grudge for as many years as she had.  But, it wasn't even a grudge at this point.  It was pure disowning.  She didn't have a family they had all fucking died with Arthur took his last breath as far as she was concerned.  The young girl had been hurt, wounded, and destroyed because of her parents poor fucking choices but she wasn't going to let that bother her now.  At least, she tried not to.  But here, was Cross, sitting on his bed ever the Vulcan and a friend that she had never expected.  He was the most unlikely friend for her but still, they had bonded and now she needed someone to distract her.

He told her that if she didn't quit yelling at the nurses they would be sharing a nap in the Brig.  A wry grin stole across her face, this was what she needed.  She knew Ducote meant well, and she was so fucking glad he was alive, but she could tell he was still worried for her.  Fragile and might break.  She didn't want to break, but there were times his eyes held that glassy feel as though he was waiting for her to fall fall the fuck apart.  No, she needed this, right here.  Just normalcy even if it was forced. 

“They can fucking try.” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, Albert shifted up and down with her shoulder now that his receptacle was on her uniform again so he stayed sturdy.  He sat up mentioning that she looked better, cleaner.  “Yeah, a bucket of bleach and a forced shower will do that to you, can't say as you look better.  Fucking bald as always, don't you have hair?” she asked brushed a hand through her ample and en-mass curls that framed her body down to her waist.

He held up his stump and for a moment she stared at it.  Not in shock or disgust but just remembering how it happened.  How he had saved her fucking life shoving her out of the way and lost his hand in the battle.  How he had seared his own hand on the fucking wall so that he wouldn't bleed to death.  He spoke and jarred her out of her thoughts, a bit of a grin as she rose her hand to touch the now nubby end of his wrist. 

“Well pity sex is out, now.” she tsked softly looking up at him with a bit of a smirk on her face.  “All those bitches out there just waiting to jump on the wounded... but nope you had to go get yourself all fuckin' healed up.” she grinned.  “Looks too good to be new.”

He mentioned the nurse had called security and they needed to bounce.  “Fucking bitch doesn't she have people to fucking care for?”  Blue shook her head and offered her hand to help Cross up off the bed since he was one hand down.  Cross picked up his shirt and jacket, letting the stupid medical gown fall to the floor.  She had been wearing one not all that fucking long ago and hoped that she sure as fuck wouldn't have to wear one again.

She wondered when Ducote would ask.  He would, at some point.  She knew that they had told him she had self inflicted wounds.  When would he ask?  She was waiting.  She wondered if he had the balls.  Cross' back was covered in scars and wounds but she didn't ask she hadn't had enough booze and she wasn't sure if it would be as easy to be his friend out here as it had been in the Versant.  Once he was set to go they booked it the fuck out of there to the cries of nurses saying he wasn't done with his treatment he still needed more observation.  As Blue ran with his hand in hers she popped the finger to the whole fucking Sickbay until they were out in the corridor with grins on their faces.

“Man that felt really fucking good.”

She turned toward Cross as their mutual grins just shared in the moment.  They raced down the corridor to the Turbolift and darted inside as soon as the doors opened.  Leaning against the wall, she pulled a PADD she had stolen from the Quarters that Ducote was using and began to thumb through it to see where they could go to hang for a little bit.  She couldn't stand to be alone yet and so she was with Cross.  She could explain it to Ducote later if he flipped out but he would understand .. probably, and if not she would get better over time.  She figured out that two decks below the Sickbay was a lounge and she doubted it would be heavily used.  Afterall, everyone was hurt, sick, being healed, debriefed, or eating their weight in food in the mess hall.  So she called for the proper deck where the Whetstone Lounge was said to be.

Once they got to the corridor they walked down until they hit the lounge, it was on the same deck as the mess hall which was a mess of fucking noise she wasn't interested in entering.  So she tugged on Cross' good hand and lead him into the darker interior of the lounge.  There was some kind of swanky jazz shit coming from somewhere though no instruments were playing so there was probably hidden speakers here and there.  It was a darker ambiance, and there was booze, and food, and plenty of seating.  The gross part of the lights came from the beauty of the stars outside a large picture window. 

It was almost romantic.

Blue lead Cross to a round table with a dark cloth on top.  There was some kind of light in the center, it wasn't a candle but it had the same kind of qualities.  “This is some swanky shit right here, we never had shit like this on the Endeavour.” she told him as she sat down and put Albert down on the seat beside her.  He would alert her if her PADD needed her for anything, and he got heavy if he sat on her shoulder too long.  That was only when they were moving.  A waiter, server, something came up and asked them what their poison was. 

“Do people actually still say that shit?” she asked the waiter.

“Uh, I .. I read it in a book.” He said looking taken back a bit.

“Oh that explains a lot.  I'll have something really fucking sweet.” she told the man looking up at him.  The man nodded and looked over at Cross for his own poison.  “Oh and bring some food.  Like.. tacos!  Yes, tacos!” she said with a grin.  “This guy probably has never had a taco in his fucking life and I'm about to fucking enlighten the shit out of him.”

“Tacos?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, tacos.” she grinned. 

“Right, I.. I'll be back with your drinks and tacos.”

Blue turned to look over at Cross who sat there probably trying to figure out just what the fuck they were doing here.  “I need measurements.” Blue said as she dove into her bag and picked up a legit old school measuring tape, a caliper, some paper, and a pen.  Scooting over towards Cross while they waited for their booze and tacos she began to take measurements so she could get started on his new hand.

“Any cool requests for your hand?” she asked looking up at him and then back to her work.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #3
[ Lt. Cross | Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]Cross felt a wave of relief wash over him as he exited sickbay, glad to be free from the facilities that kept making him think of the Savi’s facilities and what the bulbous headed bastards had done to himself and his crewmates. As he and Blue ran down the corridor, the Human woman guiding him by the hand, he couldn’t help but grin along with her at the feeling. He felt like a naughty child running away form some mischief they had performed. As Blue glanced at him, commenting on how good their escape had felt, he couldn’t help but grin back and agree.

As they continued down the corridor and entered the turbolift, Blue released his hand and consulted her PADD, leaning against the wall. Cross let his back rest against the opposite wall, the grin still partially playing across his features as he made to cross his arms. It was a common stance for him to adopt, and while some people commented that it made him appear stern, he had always felt more comfortable in that position than standing with his arms hanging at his sides. He glanced down now, finding himself unable to properly cross his arms following the loss of his left hand. There was simply not enough limb to allow his left arm to be supported in the stance. Cross let his arms fall to his sides after another moment, reflecting that this would be one of many small changes he would have to get used to until he could get a prosthetic fitted.

He was pulled back from his thoughts as Blue told the turbolift which deck to take them to, leaving him wondering exactly where it was they were headed. He studied Blue as they made the trip between decks, wanting to say something to her about her reunion with Ducote but unsure of the words to say. He was happy for her, glad that a piece of her live had been returned to her, but was unaccustomed to voicing such things. As he regarded his friend, he couldn’t help but notice that Albert was staring at him. Cross’ own eyes stared back for a moment, pale grey into glowing blue, as though daring the mechanical nuisance to say something and invite a trip to the airlock.

Oh, but that beady-eyed metal bastard annoyed him…

He didn’t know what it was about Blue’s mechanical creation that irked him so, but the fact was undeniable. He valued Blue Tiran as his friend, their time aboard the Versant having forged a bond between them. The mechanical bird-rat that was constantly perched on her shoulder was an unfortunately unavoidable companion. The tin pigeon remained thankfully silent for the time being, and Cross followed Blue out into the corridors once the turbolift had ground to a halt.

Cross followed Blue down the corridor, hearing the commotion from the mess hall further along the hallway until Blue tugged him by his hand through another set of doors which bore the sign for the Whetstone Lounge. The dimly lit interior of the lounge was a welcome change form the bright lights and sterile environment of sickbay. Jazz music played throughout the lounge, the music making the corner of Cross’ mouth twitch into the hint of a smile. He liked Jazz, and the lounge’s mood seemed just his sort of place. The view through the window of the stars beyond was another welcome sight, a view Cross never grew tired of. Having spent the majority of his formative years locked in a medical facility, the rare occasions he was allowed outside always occurring during the day, he had almost never seen stars until his liberation. Every time he saw such a sight, Cross found himself reflecting that he should have been a pilot.

”This is some swanky shit right here, we never had shit like this on the Endeavour.” Blue said as she lead him towards one of the tables, the sound of her voice pulling his mind back from the stars. He glanced across the table at her as he sat down and smiled. ”What? The metal chairs and rusting tables in the Endeavour’s mess hall weren’t fancy enough for you?” He teased, his grin spreading wider. As Blue set Albert down on the chair next to her, Cross found himself glad that he wouldn’t be locked in a staring contest with the damned robot magpie the entire time. A server approached their table, asking what they would like with a poor choice of words, his reward for which was to have Blue Tiran give him a hard time for it. Cross chuckled softly at the exchange until the man looked at him and asked for his own drink order. ”I’ll have a kanar.” Cross said, ignoring the waiter as the man gave him a disgusted look. He had expected a comment from Blue about his drink choice, but she seemed distracted by something else, which was revealed to him a moment when Blue told the man to bring food as well, specifically tacos, whatever those were. She certainly seemed happy about them, and went so far as to guess, correctly, that Cross had never had them. Apparently she planned to “enlighten the shit out of him”.

Blue turned to face him as the waiter retreated, and Cross found himself once again reflecting on how different she looked now that she was a little more rested, not to mention significantly less grimy, than she had been on the Versant. Cross found himself curious at the bond that seemed to have formed between the two of them. Blue, who was generally regarded as an unapproachable and volatile workaholic, and Cross, who was both grumpy and dour and generally uncomfortable and awkward speaking to someone of Blue’s gender outside of the course of his duties. And yet here they were, in a dimly lit and quiet lounge, ordering drinks. Cross wondered what Kai would think if he saw the two of them. No doubt his massive friend would be flabbergasted. He was only glad the Klingon wasn’t here to start singing his stupid songs again.

Cross was surprised when Blue got down to business, informing him that she needed measurements as she began rummaging through her bag. As she produced various implements, placing them on the table, Cross finally clued in that the measurements she was speaking of were for his arm, and the prosthetic that she intended to build for him. He remembered her saying she would build one, but had forgotten about it with the onset of the battle with the Borg cube and the Versant natives. As she looked up from her bag, asking him if he had any cool requests for the prosthetic, he felt at a loss.

”Um… fingers, I guess?” Cross said, having been taken by surprise by the question. No sooner had the words escaped him than he knew he sounded like an absolute idiot. Cross shook his head, chuckling at his own stupidity before looking back at Blue with an embarrassed smile plastered on his features.

”Don’t say anything. I know how stupid that sounded.” Cross fixed Blue with a mock glare as he spoke, his features relaxing again a moment later as he held the stump of his left arm forward to allow her access for her measurements. ”To be honest, I’d forgotten about that in all the chaos of the battle. I don’t know what else you could even add to a prosthetic.” He shrugged, giving her an apologetic look. ”You’re the master engineer here. I’ll leave it up to you. Just…” Cross glanced at the chair where he knew Albert was seated, ”Don’t make it talk…” If he had a hand that chattered on the Albert, he’d be putting either it, or himself, out the nearest airlock. God, but he hated that bloody bird!

He was saved from commenting further on the hand’s design as the waiter returned to the table, bringing with him their drinks. Cross smiled as he lifted his glass, the thick, syrupy liquid swaying in it’s vessel as he raised it in a toast to Blue. He considered making a toast to their survival of the Versant ordeal, or a toast to Blue’s reunion with Commander Ducote. Or to their annihilation of that Borg cube. The smile spread further across his features as another thought occurred to him. ”Here’s to naps!” Cross finally said with a chuckle, touching his glass of kanar against whatever the hell it was in Blue’s glass. Something really fucking sweet, she had said. The brightly coloured drink in her glass almost made Cross wince as he remembered the twinkies that Blue ate almost non-stop. That urge to wince disappeared as Cross took his first sip of kanar, the syrup-like fluid burning it’s way down his throat in such a way that his eyes practically rolled back in his head with the pleasure of it.

”Oh <fuck>… that is good…” Cross breathed as he lowered his drink to the table, savouring the flavour. He finally opened his eyes and saw Blue regarding him with a look of absolute disgust, her eyes alternating between Cross himself and the glass he had just now placed on the table. ”What?” Cross glanced down at his glass, the source of her revulsion dawning on him. ”Oh, right…” Cross stared back at Blue defiantly, knowing there was likely a comment or two brewing in his companion’s head. He held up his hands, or rather his hand and his stump, in an almost defensive manner as he spoke again. ”Before you start, yes. It’s kanar. And yes, kanar is a <fucking> Cardie drink. And yes, there’s a <fucking> long-ass story behind it.” Cross chuckled and let his limbs drop to the table with a sigh. ”Alright, go on. Take your shots. I know everyone think’s it’s gross.” Cross couldn’t help but give her a bit of a grin. He raised his glass, taking another long pull of the thick liquid as he waited for Blue to make her comment. Everyone always had something to say about his drink choice. He knew it made little sense to most people. A (now former) Vulcan/Bajoran hybrid who spoke fluent Cardassian and enjoyed Cardassian alcohol while, at the same time, apparently hating the damned spoonheads. He was aware of the fact that he seemed a bit of a contradiction, and had long grown accustomed to comments about it. He suspected that Blue might be a tad more colourful in her comments than most were, but Blue could say what she liked. It would do little to change the fact that he was fucking enjoying this drink.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #4
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos | Tacos]
@Fife



Blue grinned over at Cross as he threw his own banter and jokes back at her.  “Hey it's not cozy if tetanus isn't involved.” she gave him a wink and a grin.  This was normal.  She felt normal.  She didn't feel like she was on the verge of breaking.  Bantering with someone, being accepted for who she was, just having someone to be around.. it was nice.  She felt like Ranaan didn't quite know what to do with her, and fuck, she didn't know what to do with her own fucking self.  Right now, she didn't have to think about it.  And when she didn't have to think of all the shit she had to go through on the Versant, and didn't have to fucking remember losing Ducote, she could breathe again.  The weight on her chest was displaced for a short time and it was easier for her to breathe, to live, to be herself.

At some point you're going to have to fucking deal. her mind reminded her, which she firmly shut it the fuck down.  She had already been told she needed to see a fucking counselor but she wasn't going to do that right away.  Right now, today, was her fucking day.  Day one of freedom, of the rest of her fucking life, and that was going to include tacos.

Cross asked for a kanar.

Whatever the fuck that even was, she wasn't interested.  He could have his weird ass drink and she would have her tasty liquid sugar.  The waiter headed off to get their food and drinks, and Blue began to take the measurements she needed by hand, she also had her PADD and would scan the appendage in a moment but she appreciated using more analog methods when she wanted to be ultra precise.  When she asked him what he wanted out of his hand, he answered fingers.  The look she shot him said what her words were about it. 

“No shit, Sherlock-.” she started with a roll of her eyes knowing he probably didn't know who Sherlock was before he cut her off.  But that was fine, she hadn't ever read his shit either, she had seen an old movie once though.  Ran and her enjoyed watching old shit.  Princess Bride was their ultimate favorite though.  They had watched it on their very first date, and since then it had held a special meaning for the both of them.

He told her that he had forgotten all about her offer.  She shook her head as she continued working using the calipers gently on his flesh so that the pointed edges didn't poke him more than necessary.  “I didn't.” she said softly, she was not only at fault for the fact that his hand got vaporized but she felt really shit about it too.  This wasn't going to make up for it, but she not only appreciated the project but wanted to do something for him since he was there for her during a time that without him she would have fallen completely apart.

He stated she was the master engineer and he would leave it up to her.  As she worked he told her not to make it talk, and a large grin came over her face.  “What you don't want it to say, 'Good morning Lieutenant Cross, lets get handsy today?  Or hey.... you're touching yourself.  Don't use so much pressure?” she chuckled giving him a shit eating grin at the look that he shot back at her, she gave a shrug.  “Besides, while my goal with Albert was to make him speak at some point, I didn't fucking do that, so you won't have anything quite so advanced in the vocabulary.”

Just as she finished making the measurements and scanning his appendage with her PADD she was putting it away when the waiter showed up with their drinks.  She looked at the bright blue color of the drink, some sort of disk in the bottom of the cup make it glow from below.  She gave a bright grin as she surveyed it and in the top were four candied cherries floating about.  “Fuck yes.  You did good, Bill, I can forget your earlier use of poison.”  she stated as she pulled hers close, the weird swirly straw was pulled out instantly and tossed towards Bill.

“My name isn't … Bill. It's Devon.”  The waiter corrected, sure enough, on his chest was a brass placard with his name.

“You look like a fucking Bill to me.” she said unapologetically with a shrug.

“I... don't.. know what to say to that.”

“It's okay, bring the tacos, Bill.  We need to fucking eat!” she said with a grin. 

Bill headed off with a shake of his head and she turned her blue eyes back to Cross.  The ligt of her own drink reflected in her eyes as they mutual raised their glasses.  He sought for what he wanted to say, she could almost smell the smoke coming off his brain as it worked, but then he finally decided to toast to naps.  Blue's grin proved he had chosen the right one.  “To the best fucking naps.” she said as she clinked her glass with his before taking a long sip draining nearly a third of the glass before setting it down.

Cross looked as though he was about to explode in his pants from a fucking drink.  Blue rose her brow as he cursed talking about how good it was.  “I mean.. it's not a fucking twinkie so... I don't know how good it can be.” she teased a bit knowing that most of the people in her life hated twinkies and didn't get her lure.  She just watched him drinking his .. weird.. sludge drink.  He seemed to realize she was watching him and told her about it a little bit but that it was a long fucking story.  She grinned, as he told her to go ahead and bash away.

“Hey if you want to drink liquid shit who's to stop you.  You go for it buddy, you own that shit, and drink the fuck out of it.  Though I want to know if you can get drunk off that shit because my goal in life at the moment is to see drunk Cross.” she chuckled as Bill returned with a huge plate of tacos.  Spilling over with beef, chicken, peppers, lettuce, pico de gallo, cheese, and so much more she could not wait to dive in.  In the center of the 'circle of Heaven' or tacos as it might be called by some.  Where guacomole and salsa in little dishes. 

“Fuck yes!  Bill, you came through!”  she grinned looking up at him with a grin. 

He headed off with another shake of the head and Blue shoved the large platter of tacos between her and Cross.  “You try one of these.  And then, when you realize how amazing they fucking are and no.. they're not twinkies... or even related to them... you will tell me about your long story if you want. If not, get drunk, I'm not happy til you're singing show tunes on top of this fucking table!  We're free Cross!  We can eat tacos until we puke and then eat more!”

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #5
[ Lt. Cross | Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]Cross scowled at Blue as she joked about some of the things his hand might be able to say to him, though was only able to hold the expression for a moment before breaking down into laughter. ”I’m not sure I need a running commentary of everything I do, Blue. Especially... that.” Cross colours a faint shade of green as he spoke the last part, feeling embarrassed. ”Besides, the last thing I need if some voice form my hand announcing when I’m flipping someone off behind their back.” He chuckled as he watched her finish scanning and taking measurements of his severed limb and packing her things away. Cross continued to chuckle as Blue gave the waiter a hard time, repeatedly calling him by the wrong name. Cross watched the waiter retreat, shaking his head as he went, and Cross found himself mirroring the gesture. Poor Bill.

Cross laughed again as Blue referred to his choice of drink as “liquid shit”, going on to state that her goal was to see him drunk. Cross wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea, not entirely sure he wanted to spend his first waking morning of freedom nursing a hangover. It was then the thought occurred to him that, with his biology altered as it was, he might not even be able to get drunk without considerable effort. If his suspicions proved to be truth, Blue would have her work cut out for her. Not that he was about to tell her his theory. It would be more fun to watch her try and fail to get him smashed.

Bill reappeared then, depositing a large plate on the table. Cross stared at the dish for a moment, at the filling piled on the tacos. There were peppers, cheese, some other finely chopped garnishes… and meat. Blue certainly seemed excited, praising Bill while still refusing to use his real name. Then, moving the platter between them, Blue told him to try the tacos. She told Cross they weren’t as good as twinkies, which seemed to be Blue’s ultimate culinary comparison, and told him he could tell her his story if he wanted, though she once again voiced the desire to get him drunk, voicing the expectation that he stand on the table singing show tunes, whatever those were. Cross smiled at her and chuckled to himself as he reflected, not for the first time, that Humans always seemed to expect everyone to understand their strange references. Based on his experience with Kai, he had concluded that it was better simply to play along like he understood.

”We’re free Cross!” The exclamation brought another smile to Cross’ face. The words an amazing sound, both because they were true, and because Blue was smiling. He had been worried about her, both aboard the Versant and upon their return, and seeing her appear to be happy and celebrating was refreshing. ”We can eat tacos until we puke and then eat more!” Yes, it was good to see Blue…

Wait, what the hell did she just say? Cross kept his face carefully schooled into the same smile as he considered the words, wondering if it was some sort of strange Earth expression, or if Blue meant it literally. Cross prayed it was the first option.

”It looks good,” Cross admitted, glancing down at the food for a moment before casting an amused smile in Blue’s direction, ”Though why you seem to consider twinkies to be the height of Human culinary achievement is beyond me!” As he spoke, he reached out and picked the meat off one of the tacos, gently transferring the morsels to another taco before taking up the now meatless taco. He gave Blue an almost sheepish smile before opening his mouth wide and taking a bite. Cross closed his eyes as the flavour hit his palate, savouring every moment. After their time on the Versant Cross was pretty sure that any food would taste like heaven, but he would still admit that the tacos were fantastic. Finally, after taking some time to slowly chew the food while cherishing each moment of the fresh flavour, Cross opened his eyes and regarded Blue with a pleased expression. ”Ok, you were right, those are <fucking> amazing!” Cross told her, ”If I’m being honest, I half expected whatever you ordered to be coated in sugar and liable to rot the teeth out of my head.” Cross grinned at Blue, as though daring her to try and say his guess was unreasonable, then took another bite of his taco.

Cross groaned, rolling his eyes as the flavour washed over him once again. There was nothing like being tortured, biologically altered and almost dying for working up an appetite. Cross placed the half-eaten taco down and picked up a napkin to wipe the juices from the taco off his hand, only to realize that this task would prove difficult without his other hand to hold the napkin. Cross settled on crushing the napkin in his fist to absorb the juices there, then dropped the crumpled thing onto the table as he took up his drink again. This was really going to take some getting used to, now that there were back to a relatively normal environment.

”Ok, Tiran,” Cross finally said, raising his eyes form the napkin to look into hers. ”I don’t know what the <fuck> showtunes are, but if you want drunk Cross you’d better keep up.” Cross glanced down at Blue’s liquid-sugar-with-a-splash-of-alcohol excuse for a drink, ”And none of the liquid diabetes crap, either!” He added, directing a shit-eating grin in her direction. I'm going to stuff a couple more tacos in my face, then we're getting some more drinks. Deal?"

OOC: I'm sorry it took me so long to reply!!! :(

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #6
[LCdr Blue Tiran | If Tacos Ruled the World | All Would be Good | World Domination | War of the Twinkies]
@Fife


Tacos.   Tacos.  Tacoliscious.  Tacomazing. 

She watched as his nimble fingers, the ones he had left, transferred the meat from one taco to another.  She looked over at him and rose her brow.  “You don't eat meat?  I mean.. I'm usually forced to eat meat that isn't stuffed into a taco or something fried but... man... I guess you're not perfect after all.” she sighed and shook her head as if she was disappointed but the grin was back on her face.  She was only giving him shit after all.  She still thought it was weird, but then, as Blue Tiran, she could not talk to anyone about having shit eating habits.  Ran was always after her to eat shit that was healthy and wholesome.  If it did not have the word 'comfort' in front of it she wasn't interested in consuming it.  Blue was fully aware she had the palate of a child, but that child had raised herself and cooked for herself and never expanded her palate past that of a grade schooler.

She took the over-meated taco and bit into it.  Juices slid down her pale chin and she grabbed the napkin with her other hand mopping at the taco juices.  She looked over at Cross as he worked a napkin onto his stump and slid it across his face.  Blue couldn't help but laugh, she couldn't help it because it was fucking adorable, and it was hilarious to watch this rounded balled up napkin swish juices across his chin.  “Oh my God, that's fucking adorable, you and your nappy.” she laughed and sat back in the seat.  Other people might feel as though they had stepped on Cross' toes somehow because he had just lost an arm, but this was Blue fucking Tiran, she had no fucking filter and it was fucking adorable.  He needed to know this.  “Vulcan napkin skills, I'm impressed.” she said with a last giggle as she picked up her drink and took a long slow pull of it nearly emptying half the glass in a go.

He liked the tacos, of course he did, they were tacos.  Those that didn't like tacos would be put to painful death.  Re-education never worked, it was just death.  Even if it was just a veggie taco.  But, considering the rate of sugar consumption that Blue tackled on a daily basis she couldn't sit there and be a complete bitch, she would just silently judge his poor food choices.  “Of course they're fucking amazing.  I told you, and not everything I eat is full of sugar just like.. eighty percent okay, I try.  Ran is always trying to feed me fucking vegetables and a well balanced meal.  I just want good fucking food and dessert!” she laughed taking another taco off the plate and laying waste to it in true Texan fashion.  “I'll have to show you some more of what we call Tex-Mex in the South.  Because this shit is just the tip of the iceburg my friend.” she grinned looking over at Cross.

It was nice to.. have a friend.

They had suffered through unimaginable horrors, his DNA had been re-fucking-written and they had bonded in a way that people could only do when they were suffering at the same time.  There was a bond that she doubted anyone could break.  It was a bond of kinship.  It wasn't just a friend, he was fucking family, though she wasn't drunk enough to tell him that.  This was the kind of bond she could rely on, and she hoped that he wouldn't leave.  Family always did; lessons from her childhood.

It seemed the quest to get really fucking wasted was on.  Blue's answering grin as he told her that he was going to finish a few more tacos they were going to get after it.  But she wasn't allowed to drink liquid diabetes any more.  “Fine you're not allowed to drink anything that people give you shit looks for, if we're going to be elitist drunks.” she said brushing her hair out of her face and finishing off her liquid sugar.  “Lets get something we can both stomach, and see how far we can go.” she said.  “Besides after the shit we've been through I could use a little booze!”

She finished the tacos that she was planning to eat for the moment, though there were some left, she hailed Bill, and called him over.  “Bill!  Bring us booze.  Normal every day booze.  Not his weird shit, not the sugar shit, booze.”  she said firmly.  Bill looked at the both of them before nodding and heading off.  When he came back with a bottle of amber liquid, unmarked, and poured the two glasses leaving the bottle behind for the two of them.  Blue held her glass up to Cross and grinned at him.

“Fuck the Savi!  Fuck you Versant!  To moving forward!” she clinked her glass against his for a moment and then downed the shot glass of booze.  She winced as it slid down her throat at the burn that came from the liquid. 

“Before I get totally wasted and you have to carry my ass back to Ranaan.  I just wanted to say thank you, back then, for making me get on the escape pod.  I won't ever thank that Blue Bitch, but .. thanks.  To you.”

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #7
[ Lt. Cross | Whetstone Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]Cross had grinned at Blue Tiran’s choice of toast, chuckling as he realized just how much he agreed with the sentiments.

Fuck the Savi. Fuck the Versant.

The words echoed in his very soul as their glasses clinked together,

Cross’ face screwed up into an almost sour expression as he, too, downed the shot that Bill had brought over for them. The alcohol warmed his on it’s way down, that warmth slowly spreading through his whole body. He exhaled as he placed the shot glass on the table and signally Bill for another round. As Blue spoke, he redirected his attention to her, looking at her with a theatrical glare.

”Oh, NOW you thank me!” Cross said, his pale eyes twinkling with humour, ”At the time it was all “shut up Cross” and “I’mma just break your <fucking> nose Cross.” and “I’ll just start dismantling the <fucking> escape pod, Cross!” Cross grinned at Blue, letting her know he was not mad in the least, ”You have an odd way of showing gratitude, Blue.” Cross reached up an made a show of rubbing his nose as though it was sore, purposely using the stump of his left arm to do so. ”Just don’t mention it, okay? I don’t know how much more of your gratitude I can survive!” Cross ended the statement by sticking his tongue out at the engineer, his altered appearance seeming a stark contract to the very un-Vulcan-like gesture. Cross broke out into a broad grin then, chuckling and looking at Blue in earnest. ”In all seriousness though, you don’t need to thank me, Blue. We weren’t close before all this happened, but you were my crewmate. I don’t abandon my crewmates.”

[A very noble sentiment, Lieutenant Cross.]

Cross scowled, having forgotten Albert was even there since Blue had set him down on the seat next to her. He had remained quiet up until this point, and Cross’ agitation at that silence being broken was visible in the dark expression he directed at the chair from which the sound drifted.

”Maybe we could have left him behind, though…” Cross muttered, casting a sheepish grin at Blue. There was no doubting Blue’s attachment to Albert, not after everything they had gone through to retrieve the damned aluminum shit-hawk.

Cross was still grinning as he turned to see Bill approaching their table again, this time bearing two double shot glasses with clear liquid in them. Cross watched dubiously as Bill placed the glasses on the table before them, staring at the clear liquid as Bill produced something from his pocket and flicked it once over each of the glasses, with both glasses igniting as he did so. Cross stared at the two flame-topped glasses for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally speaking. ”Uh, Bill, why the <fuck> did you just light our drinks on fire?” Cross asked as he directed a brief, confused glance up at their waiter.

“My name’s not… aw, whatever.” Bill continued to grumble as he moved off once again, leaving them to their drinks and Cross to stew over his unanswered question.

“Poor Bill.” Cross muttered as he turned back to Blue. He gave her a conspiratorial grin for a moment before turning his attention back to the drinks, the look of confusion returning to his face. ”Are we supposed to blow the fire out first, or…” He was cut off in the middle of his musing as their commbadges chirped.

[Cross, Tiran; Ducote. Please report to the Captain’s ready room. Out.]

”Looks like I won’t be carrying you back to the Commander’s room after all,” Cross said, winking at Blue as he leaned forward and blew out the flames which had still sat atop the pair of glasses, ”what did you do, and why am I getting dragged into the shit with you?” Cross’ nose wrinkled as he followed up the mock accusation with a smile, the wrinkles seeming to make an almost drunken caricature of his former appearance.

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1930] Disappearing Acts

Reply #8
[LCdr. Blue Tiran | Tacos To Go | A Girl and a Taco Walk Out of a Bar | Sorry Bill, See You Around]
@Fife


Blue grinned.

Cross was great for her.  He kept her mind off the shit.  He kept her mind off of Ranaan and how much she panicked the moment he stepped outside the door.  She hadn't even had Albert track him recently and she was pretty proud of that.  Though, she hoped that Ranaan never found out what she did to his combadge, she figured at some point he would.  Or she would finally heal enough to take the tracker out.  But, it would be a long process before she could trust him to leave the room.  It wasn't that she didn't trust him per say it was just that the last time she had said good bye to him and been so seemingly final and .. even though it wasn't... those days... of sheer hell thinking he was dead was enough to terrify her into the fact that one day it could well be a reality.

He picked at her, about how she had told him to shut up, and literally broke his nose, and then tried to dismantle the fucking escape pod.  “Hey!  For the record I didn't try to break the fucker I was going to make it go faster and more efficiently.  But no, you fuckers didn't believe in your genius chief engineer, and you fuckers wouldn't leave me the fuck alone.  A busy Blue is one that is quiet and doesn't want to murder andorians.” she reminded him quickly.

She grinned when he told her he didn't think he could survive anymore of her gratitude.  She shook her head and then he got more serious for a moment.  Blue gave a nod.  “I know we weren't.  And that's why looking back you deserve my thanks.  I don't hand it out often, it's not fucking halloween around here or. .. Christmas or some fucking Vulcan holiday where you get shit.  It's .. a once in a life time think okay you ungrateful mother fucker.” she said nudging him playfully with her elbow and taking another sip of her drink.  Bill was closing in with another drink for them to share, something clear this time which got her brow to quirk slightly.

“No we couldn't leave Albert behind because he's family, you viscious bastard.  A defenseless Interface Unit.”

[Miss Blue with current upgrades-]

“yeah I know Albert, I'm talking about Pre-Fuckery Albert.”

[I am afraid I do not understand the terminology of Pre-Fuckery.]

“It means before the Savi made you into a back talking son of a bitch.” she grumbled.

[I am not the product of a female canine.] he said almost offended.

Blue rolled her eyes.  Then suddenly.  They were summoned to the Captain's ready room just as Bill walked off leaving his flaming booze behind.  Blue looked over at Cross and shrugged her shoulders.  “I don't fucking know, I didn't order booze on fire, doesn't look good for your insides.  Come on lets go see what we're being paged for.” 

Blue got up and put Albert on her shoulder were his talons clipped into place on the metallic pad on her shoulder.  She leaned over and grabbed a taco for the road shoving some napkins in her pocket as they headed off towards the door giving a wave to Bill. 

“What did you do this time and why am I going down for it?” Cross asked as they hit the corridor. 

“Fuck if I know, I just got here!” she said looking over at him with a grin and kicking at his leg making him jolt to the side slightly with a grin on his face.

-Fine-

 
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