Skip to main content ↑ ↓
Topic: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away  (Read 4664 times) previous topic - next topic
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

DRINKING DEVILS AWAY

STARDATE 57561.35
MARCH 12
1200 HRS.

[LCdr Blue Tiran | Below Decks | It's Boozin' Time | Some Things Are Best Left Unspoken | Damaged Goods | Pour a Little Sugar in My Drink]
@Brutus

There were times, that no matter what you did with your therapist, a drink just sounded a fuckton better.  Some things were easy to talk about, at least for most normal people.  Blue Tiran never really found anything easy to talk about and her emotions were at the top of that 'Do Not Disturb' list.  The only person that she allowed to see her emotions was Ranaan, and even then it wasn't like she could really hide them.  Right now, she had a feeling he could see everything as he hadn't told her any different.  But something was off, and so maybe he couldn't.  Because the way he acted around her, when she had her moments, told her that he hadn't been prepped and normally, he would be.  He would know what was coming almost before she did.  But, since the Versant things had been different almost surprising for him, and it was an odd thing, for Blue Tiran to see.

She was glad he was there but she feared that she was too changed for him.

It was something that nagged at her.  The way he looked at her, the way she felt, the way he pulled her hand away every time she started pinching her arm.  She knew it was hard on him, and it was even harder on her.  She had been on that ship, and she hadn't even been able to talk to him about it yet.  Between meetings, appointments, promotions, and the other shit on the ship on the way to Aldea... there was too much shit to do and too little time to sit down and have a real discussion.  As much as she wished that she could, but, she also hoped that once they got a little leave time they could go somewhere far the fuck away from this piss hole of a ship and get some one on one time without the threat of being called back to the ship.

For now, she was hiding.  Ranaan had gone off to do some kind of probably super important shit and Blue just couldn't sit in the room on her own any longer.  She had designed Cross' hand and was fine tuning it but she found herself itching to hurt herself when ever she suddenly freaked because he wasn't there.  She would ask Albert, Albert would report his location, and she would start calming down and then attack her arm with her fingernails until she was fully calm only to have it all start back up again.  It was something that she hated about herself and something that she hoped to be able to fix once she was able to talk to the counselor.  She knew that she had an appointment later today but right now Booze was going to be the doctor.

Knocking back her third glass of blue brightly colored and heavily sugared booze she slammed the glass down on the small two person table.  There was already two empty glasses, now a third, that sat in front of her.  Blue had Albert sitting on the edge of the table, talons locked around the edge of it to keep him upright, and he was surveying Blue mostly.  Probably recording her slide into fucking drunkdom.  Likely to send to Ranaan at the most inoportune moment.  That was fine, fuck Albert, if he was going to be that way.  She had created an amazing device and the Savi had turned it into an asshole.  Her dark black and blue curls were down framing around her in their large mass.  She had a fuckton of hair and it was .. everywhere, but it didn't seem to bother her.  Her skin was pale, paler more so because of the Versant and lack of nutrition, but she had always naturally been very pale in all regards.  Still, she wasn't even in uniform, wearing a replicated pair of comfortable jeans and a black tank top which showed her toned body.  She had lost muscle mass on the Versant, her arms and muscles had been more defined before her stay.

"Bring me another!" she called to the bartender, as she lifted her head and then settled it on her open palm.  Elbow resting on the table to hold the whole thing up. 

[Miss Blue, I need not remind you of your appointment later today.]

"I'm fully fucking aware of my schedule you daft piece of shit."

[I have informed you time and time again, I am not an excrement, however, I do understand you use such terminology not as a noun but instead as a adjective when you are displeased with me.]

"Hey look!  You're learning!"  Blue grinned over at the blue-eyed owl.

[My positronic matix allows for me to attain available data from persons and from the environment around me as well as situations that are pertinent to the continued survival of Starfleet and one Emelia Blue Tiran.]

"Call me that again, and I'll have you airlocked."

[Is that not your name?  Starfleet records show that while struck from your files a great many years ago, a shadow of it exists in the original copies of your Academy applications.]

Blue sighed.  "No, that is not my name." she grumbled as another drink was dropped off with a bright cherry on the top which she picked out of the booze and popped into her mouth with a grin that showed she was starting to get a little tipsy.

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #1 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

They had the real stuff here, Sarresh knew. The kind of thing that would burn your throat and your soul. Oh, there were shots that could be administered to shake off most of the effects of real alcohol. And if they were in a real emergency he'd indulge. If he were on active duty, he'd not be here at all. He'd be burying himself in his work to try and forget....everything.

But he wasn't on duty. His lab was sealed. The tests were all automated for the immediate moment and the truth was the power could be used elsewhere than him  poking about the time stream, doing active research. It was memory intensive indeed, and in dry dock as they were....well, other things were needed. Sarresh Morali wasn't one of those things.

So he now sat, with the PADD before him, wearing a loose pair of pants and a wrap around long sleeved shirt that Ryuan Sel had once, briefly remarked would look good on him. It was cut in a Bajoran style, and he'd had this one replicated in dark, somber tones to fit his mood, not the warm browns and oranges her people oft seemed to favor. He'd done this in her quarters as he had forced himself to gather her effects. Such as they were.

No amount of drinking could hide the fact that his eyes were rimmed in red from shed tears and lack of sleep. He cradled a tumble of a warm colored amber liquid, sloshing it over the ball of ice in the center of the glass. It would clink here and there as his hand moved about, and he could taste the sting of it on his lips and tongue. This too suited his mood.

The PADD bore the message sent to him earlier that morning, from the Quartermaster. He had received it at the same time he had been messaged by V-Nine. He had yet to decide how to handle the moral quandary of inflicting artificial implants back into his eyes when he now had a perfectly healthy pair of them, and had instead spent the morning hours dealing with the other message:

Quote
To: Morali, Sarresh, Lt (JG)
From: Savali, Abraham, CPO
Subject: Disbursement of personal effects of Ryuan Sel, Ens.

Lt. Morali,

As per the last wishes of one Ens. Ryuan Sel, you have been listed as the beneficiary of her estate, and 'next of kin' in the event of her demise. As the aforementioned officer is deceased, following our recent encounter in the Azure Nebula, and given the need to reallocate lodging of officers and bunk assignments, hitherto the previously noted will, it is requested that you take possession of the contents of her quarters and all personal effects, as well as logs for review, post haste.

Our condolences on your loss.
Office of the Quartermaster, Operations, USS Theurgy

Sarresh shut his tired eyes to blot out the vision of crew wandering about him, as he sat near the window, the warmth of the Aldean sun on his face. This was a mistake however. With his eye shut he saw only his thoughts, and those lingered on that last log that had been recorded by Sel.

Quote
"Computer, begin log."

"Well, here I am. I didn't think I'd ever be in love. Not really. Love is something other people do. Not me. But then again, where he was. Right place at the right time I guess."

A sigh was heard and picked up by the recorder.

"A dash of Deltan pheromones and boom. I don't think that's how many love stories begin. Two morons in a desperate time just barely saving the day and then tearing each other's clothes off."

A laugh.

"Well, some action flicks end that way. Our hero saves some piece of eye candy and then they ravish each other as the camera pans away. Classic shit really. I never did get to drag Sarresh to the holodeck movie theater program. I remember the first time I went to it. I gave the guy head right there. I felt so naughty. He was a real piece of work. I wonder how Sarresh would react, knowing that I did shit like that. I wonder how he'd react if I did that to him."

"Fuck I miss him. I never realized how empty this fucking ship was until this happened. Now he's out there and I'm here. I wish I could hold him again. Maybe fuck in the shower and then on the bed. Fuck, the second I see him I am going to fucking grab him and kiss him, I don't care who is around."

"I hope he's okay. I hope they didn't do anything to fucking gross to him."

There was the sound of her sighing and shifting about into another position.

"I guess it's my job to make it to him. To somehow rescue him. I can do that. If they get me close enough I've got a big ol' gun that can cut through whatever they throw at me. I'm pretty much unstoppable. I'll make it to him. I know it...End log."

Swallowing, Sarresh buried his face in his hands as he heard the last words she'd recorded.  Shortly there after she had perished in the fight with the Borg. When he'd listened to the log in her quarters he had collapsed upon her bed and sobbed, crying till he could not cry any more tears. The former Ash'rem did not check to see how long he had wallowed in sorrow. He just lay and suffered, until eventually he forced himself off the bed and began to pack her belongings away.

Carrying them back to his quarters had been one of the lonliest walks of his life. He'd deposited them on his desk, and immediately turned to leave, stumbling his way to a transporter room to beam over to Theurgy's third vector, seeking out the only bar he knew of. Though his officer status would have granted him access to the much closer Spearhead lounge, he'd made for Below Decks, where he knew he could well and properly wallow, drowning in grief, self pity, and real alcohol.

Now those same, accursed tears threatened to return full force. To swallow him up, there, with others around. The only thing that stopped his tears, and the sobs beyond the first gut sucking breath, was the sound of two voice intruding nearby upon his sorrows. His head snapped up in recognition.

There, with her hair black and blue and shinier than it had been on the alien ship was that loud mouthed, crass Engineer from the Versant. The one that he had briefly felt sorry for, and then had cause to regret the next morning when her loud voice and ripped him away from a hard fought sleep. "The one with the damned unhealthy obsession with those abominable pastries," he groused aloud.

Louder perhaps than he had realized. Did that mechanical owl just look at me??? He blinked rapidly, fighting the effects of the alcohol in his system, and scowling over at the machine perched on the woman's shoulder. Sure enough, it was looking right back at him.

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #2 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | When Demons Follow Your Sleep | Mental Peace | Don't Tell Ranaan | Albert the Ever Sober Drinking Buddy]
@Brutus



Blue brushed back a mass of curls out of her face as the next drink hit the table.  The sound of the glass on her table top made her grin.  That sharp chink as it was placed, and the bartender began to collect the empties to take back with him.  She knew that Ranaan wold not be pleased that she got sloshed, he probably wouldn't mind so fucking much if she had done it in Quarters.  But she was an Engineer, and Chief Engineer at that.  There would be some fucking lecture about decorum, and holding up status, and being like a bright fucking star in an otherwise nasty infected anal cavity of a ship.. or something.  She was pretty sure it would include some of that, though the infected cavity would likely not make it into verbal conversation.

Shit sucked.

It was so fucking hard to figure out what to do with herself now.  There was work, fuck there was work, and she was glad to dive into it.  But there was also a fuckton of Engineers on this fuckboat and she knew that they all needed work as much as she did so she had done what was hard for her.  She Delegated tasks.  Wouldn't Ranaan be pleased as fucking punch.  When she wasn't at work she was designing Cross' new hand, it was coming along well but there was only so much of it she could work on before she had to take a break.  If she didn't pace herself she would have finished it already and then she would be out of her favorite project.  Already, she had added to it and added to it, and added to it. 

Part of her really wanted to make it talk, just for like a full minute before the chip fried itself just to watch Cross' face as it narrated his every movement.  But she actually liked Cross and so she hadn't actually done it but.. there was that little voice in the back of her mind that kept pushing her to take the leap.

Then there were the nightmares.  It wasn't even so much of the fucking live action replay of the Versant fuckery that woke her up.  It was Ranaan.  It was .. making sure he was there.  She knew that at some point her mother fucking needy ass mind would calm the fuck down and she wouldn't need to check on his well being every five fucking minutes.  But, she was still terrified it was all a fucking dream.  She had taken to sleeping against him, on top of him, almost.  One leg on his, her arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder, his hand in her hair where it fell still after coaxing her to sleep by playing with her curls.  His heartbeat in her ear, his snoring in the background.  It was all so that she could sleep.  All of it, and then she would move in the night and he wouldn't be against her anymore and that was when she would shoot up, gasping, and look over to make sure he was there... resume her original sleep position and fall back to sleep.

Life fucking sucked.

She didn't notice the now silent Albert shifting his head on the 360 degree axis point so that he could take in the rest of the bar including the man that was also drinking his demons away across the room.  Blue didn't hear the man's blasphemy against the best mass produced, preservative laden, sponge cake delicacies, because... them was fightin' words.  So, in truth, he was lucky.  However, Albert's over sensitive intake ports were able to pick up on the man's fine words from across the room and those blue glowing orbs took in the man for a moment as if staring him down.

[Miss Blue, it seems that one of the Versant refugees has found solace in the Below Decks as well.  It seems as though he is entertaining the same calming and coping mechanisms as yourself.]

“The fuck you talkin' about.” she said as she picked up the glass from the table into her hand.  It hadn't even had time to leave a small ring on the table yet.  She tossed back a quarter of it before she finally let her crystalline blue eyes cast across the lounge to the man.

[I believe after accessing the ship roster that is Lieutenant Junior Grade Sarresh Morali.] Albert explained.  [He is not a fan of your favored twinkies.]

Blue rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “The fuck you lookin' at Sara!?” she called across the bar before her face broke into a smile and she actually giggled.  Yes, Blue Tiran, giggler.  Once she started she couldn't stop right away and Albert shifted his optical input sensors back to his master and owner taking in her inebriated state for a moment.

[Miss Blue, your alcohol consumption has reached it's peak.]

That sobered her up, from the giggles anyway.  “Oh fuck you Albert, twice, sideways, and with studded port enhancers.”  she giggled again and looked over at Sarresh a moment.

“Sara!  Come join the cool kids!  I'd say we have cookies, but we fucking don't!  Hey bartender!  I want some fucking cookies!” she cried out louder.

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #3 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

For a moment both too long, and too short for Sarresh to define, he wondered if perhaps the drink he had been imbibing was stronger than he had, at first, realized. After all, there was a robot owl looking at him, and talking about him. Too far away to really make out the words to Sarresh's very human ears, but even through the fine buzz in his skull and the trickling warmth in his gut, the former Ash'rem was positive that this bird was talking. About him.

The glass lifted up off the table and Sarresh held it to the light of the system out side, tilting it this way and that. Still looked the same, and unfortunately this did not allow him to discern any hidden properties of the liquor that hitherto had cloaked themselves from observation. Surely, he logic'd with the confidence of more than one glass, that can be the only explanation. There's no way that bird was tal--

A cry for 'Sarah' cut across the bar, drawing both Sarresh's attention, and most of the rest of the lounge's occupants gaze, toward the woman giving cry and challenge. She'd swung around in her chair and was looking Sarresh's way. Still holding the glass up, the Temporal Affairs Officer turned comically, looking over first his right, then his left shoulder, as if trying to spot some woman that might be named Sara. If memory served him - has it ever? - then that was a female name among humans and their respective hybrids.

(Not that there are any of those left on the ship, thank you Savi! he mused).

Alas, his keenly human eyes did not detect anyone behind him that might fit the name 'Sara'. There was a fellow that looked like a Quord, to Sarresh, a Bolian with a decidedly weak chin, but that couldn't be a 'Sara.' Certainly a Quord. Or maybe it was pronounced Q'rd? No, that's too Klingon, not Bolian. Definitely a Quord then. Nodding to no one in particular, Sarresh concluded that the drunken woman was far more sloshed - a human word he'd picked up - than he himself, and was simply shouting at nothing. Thus reassured, he settled himself back down for a good, depressive brood over the loss of yet another woman he loved, when she shouted again.

Is that giggling monster is shouting at me? The one that lost her.... He blinked, realizing that he could not remember what it was that he had felt sorry for her over - and then regretted, he knew he'd regretted it - on the Versant. He did remember as he topped the glass back and stood up, that he did not really drink. Ever. At all. He was quite sure of this all of the sudden. Drinking was not a thing that Sarresh Moralli, late of the Relativity did. Which made his decision to do so 1] out of character and 2] stupid.

Thus having concluded the situation with a clarity that he found almost disturbing, he raised his glass up, gave it a wiggle, and then left the spent container on his table. Tugging the Bajoran style tunic down into place, he squared his shoulders. With a fluid grace that he'd so often lacked on dry land, he strode over to the table with the blue haired woman and the weird metal bird. He wove around the tables deftly (he only stumbled twice) and waved to Quord - who looked affronted - and then stopped, looming over the woman. He saw she had rank pips making her a lieutenant commander. Still couldn't remember her name.

"Lieutenant Commander..." he began, drawing out the first word so that it sounded like loooooootentant. "Praytell who is....Sara?".

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #4 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Drinking Away Devils or Devils Drinking | Drunk Dims the Darkness |  Finding Sara]
@Brutus



Blue's eyes shifted to Albert who looked a little unsettled by the sudden outbursts of his counterpart.  He was used to accompanying her just about anywhere she went because until now, he had not been able to move of his own accord.  Blue had been working on things to help with mobility but it was not as easy to get the power to move him, and the software to allow for the wings to use the drift and drag of the air around it to guide him to certain locations.  Aviation was not something Miss Blue excelled at. 

Blue herself was enjoying the buzz of the booze, and how everything kind of had this cool halo around it now.  Probably because her eyes were either watery, or whatever drink she was consuming was just really good shit.  Whatever the reason, she knew that if Ranaan found her here drunk as she was there would be one of those super fun fatherly lectures invovled.  But, she didn't care, it was totally worth the impending lecture to let off some steam and forget about all the shit she had been through recently.

[Miss Blue, the Lieutenant is coming this way.]

“heyyyyyyyyyy.  He is!” she said more loudly than she intended which prompted more giggled and a sip of her blue drink.  It was empty now, the clear glass mocking her angrily with a slight rim of blue around the bottom that was just barely enough for a single droplet of paradise.  She tilted her head back, the long expanse of pale skin at her throat almost glowed in the odd lighting of the lounge, as she fought gravity and patience for that lone last drop.

It landed squarely on her tongue.  “Well that was fucking disappointing.  They need self filling glasses so I don't even have to ask the fucking bartender for a refill.” she grumbled to herself setting down her now empty glass again. 

[I believe that would be counter intuitive to keeping people under control.  I also believe that you have likely exceeded your maximum alcoholic input.]

“You're not my father!  Fuck you!”

[Miss Blue, I am not your father, however, it seems as though, today, you might need assistance keeping yourself in an upright manner.]

“Are you calling me drunk?!” she exclaimed.

[Merely stating a fact.]

Her eyes swam over towards the man that was approaching in his weird clothes and hitting a table on the way as he made his way over to where she sat.  She didn't rise, mostly because she couldn't, but not that she was going to admit to it.  Sitting back, Blue rested her head against the high back of the booth she had parked herself into and watched the man as he read the shimmering pips on her collar and decided to call her by rank.  One side of her lip pulled back showing her perfectly white and straight teeth underneath.

“Well the first fucking thing you can do, Sara, is not call my by my fucking rank.  Because... “ she lifted her head off the booth and it swayed slightly before she got her muscles under control.  “.. we're drinking.  And... if we're going to be drinking buddies there's no fucking room here for ranks and titles and shit.  I'm Blue.  You're Sara.  Now sit!  Drink with me!  Enjoy the asshole of my bird.  No wait that didn't come out right.” 

Blue burst into a bought of giggles, nearly falling over from the sheer amount of vibration caused by her stomach muscles contracting with the laughter.  She caught herself right before she toppled over and looked over at him.

“I mean.  My owl.  He's an asshole.  You can come enjoy.” she grinned at the man and turned to the bartender raising her hand.

“Bring more booze for me and Sara!” she called out before looking back at Sara. 

The bird in question, on the table, shifted his chassis using his feet and talons to turn himself so that he could better see Sarresh with his blue optical sensors.  If one didn't know better, one would think he sighed the way that his feathers moved up and down as if taking in air and letting it out quickly because of Blue's antics.

[Greetings, Lieutenant Sarresh I a-]

“No fucking ranks!”  Blue interupted.

[My name is Albert, I believe Miss Blue would appreciate you joining her in beverages that alter your mental state.]

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #5 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

The bird is talking. The BIRD is Talking, bird bird bird, the bird is...talking, Sarresh's mind screamed at him. Sel would have shot it by now he decided, and managed not to cry at the little thought. He was sure of it though. That bird wasn't natural (ha!) and he would imagine that the departed Bajoran would have seen the thing as a threat and dealt with it accordingly. Likely in a loud and violent fashion. There would be metal feathers all over the place. A right bird-demic.

Not that Sarresh would do something along those lines. It was talking after all and that was...different. Yes. Yes, different. Much different than he was used to. Which was saying something, considering he lived on a self aware ship with its own holographic representation. More so, it seemed to Sarresh that this bird appeared to be scolding the woman that now sat before him. She who was looking up, forlorn that she had no more drink and clearly drunk from what she had so far consumed. From what he had caught on the approach, Sarresh decided that the bird was likely right. The blue and black haired engineer - he was pretty sure he remembered her saying she was an engineer when they were both captives - had consumed more than enough.

So had he, probably. That didn't seem right though. He'd only had the one drink. Or was it two? Maybe it was two after all. Thought it was one. But whose counting? That got a giggle out of him, which was, of course, utterly uncharacteristic.

Blinking the inner soliloquy away, Sarresh narrowed his eyes - all too human - and looked down again, along the bridge of his nose. Haughty and drunk, that was the net effect. The room moved, but he stayed still, and so too did the woman at the table. She talked at him, but kept calling for some Sara or another. Finally his lubricated neurons sorted out that she thought he was this 'Sara.' Perhaps its a title? No, if she's telling me off for using rank, she wouldn't use a title. Rapidly concluding thus, he shook his head.

She was too drunk to say his name.

Amused, the lanky man smirked. What passed then was a farce of a...tirade wasn't the right word. Rant was't quite it either. Thinly veiled cry for help? He liked the sound of that in his head. He looked from this 'blue' to the bird - owl - Albert - as it in turned stared back at him. The owl tilted its head. Sarresh tilted his in turn. Both blinked, and then, as if reaching an accord, the bird explained the situation. It was very literal, for a bird. And was currently more put together than its....owner? Sure, that's what he would go with, owner.

"This is absurd," Sarresh pointed out, as he drew up a seat and sat down upon it, crossing one left deftly over the other (and banging his foot against the underside of the table). There was a wince, then a shrug, as he settled down. The chair was good, nice and supportive. And it kept the room from spinning, though now he thought this Blue person might, maybe be spinning herself. It was hard to tell.

"You....are drunk." he pointed at Blue, and then snapped his hand over to the side with a flourish that said he was none to sober himself, and pointed at the owl. "And you, are a talking owl...automaton? Robot? Not an android....right?" He squinted and leaned forward, curious, as the bartender appeared, placing two drinks on the table, and looking between the two drunk patrons before shaking his head and moving off.

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #6 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Drunken Doohickeys | You Have No Words to Describe Me | Pull Up a Chair | Drinking Games Start Now]
@Brutus



The man stood there, staring at her.  He was .. probably good looking, to somebody.  Blue had only one man on her mind and she was the sort that was really fucking loyal so long as the person in question gave her understanding.  The only fucking person in the world that understood her what so ever was probably off being Super Commander (cape and all) on the Theurgy right now while his fiance sat in the Below Decks with her owl drinking up a storm.  Wouldn't Daddy be proud. she chastised herself with a bit of a mental snark but the drunken Blue pushed that shit right away because she had no fucking time for Daddy issues.  She looked up at the man as he pulled out a chair and sat himself down in it.  The table thudded slightly with his foot's impact on it, but luckily there wasn't anything to spill and the shock absorbers installed between Albert's legs and the chassis itself allowed for him to stay up right with only a slight jostle.

He pointed at her, saying that she was drunk.  She gave a uncaring shrug of a singular shoulder.  “Might as well!  I don't have to think so much with this shit in my system.” she laughed as she looked down at her still empty glass and sighed.  “If the bartender didn't take so long I'd probably get a good fucking nap in before I left for the day.  Supposedly, enough booze will knock your ass out and you won't remember shit when you wake up.  Sounds really fucking good right now.”

Sara pointed over at Albert stating he was a talking owl, android, robot, something.  Albert tilted his head again slightly, pausing in his answer while the bartender brought some drinks to the table and left with a shaking head.  Albert's eyes shifted back over to Sarresh as he shifted himself slightly as if thinking about how he wanted to answer. 

[My status is somewhat unknown at this point.  I am closest to an Android, if going by your own terminology Mister Sarresh.  I am a fully capable AI unit, designation, Albert.  Miss Blue created me and the Savi merged my own Computer Processing Units with the positronic matricies Miss Thea contained allowing for my new form to begin.  I am beyond your current understanding, I'm afraid.]

Blue grinned.  “Yeah he's an asshole too, I didn't program him to be one though, that's alllllll him and the Savi fuckery.” she said as she picked up her drink and took a sip of it.

[I have heard Miss Blue likened to a female dog.]

Blue snorted and looked over at Albert.  “Did you just call me a bitch?!”

[The exact terminology seems very crass, I deigned not to use the actual term.]

“That doesn't make it any better.” she grumbled looking over at Sara who was watching this shit show.  This was the Blue and Albert show.  They got along, she still had a soft spot for him and he didn't seem to mind being with her.  But, they also bickered at each other a lot now.  Though, she never felt that he was attacking her or anything.  They got along in their own sick twisted way.  Honestly, she felt like he had become more her family since the change than he was last time.

“I memmember you on the Versant.  Did the white fuckers fuck with you too?”

Re: SD 57561.35 Drinking Devils Away

Reply #7 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

Tracing a pattern on his knee with a finger, Sarresh had to admit that there was a certain appeal to the idea of drinking so much as to blind himself to everything around him. To setting himself into a stupor in which he passed out, ideally into a dreamless sleep. He'd mourned Amikris, and it had been an ordeal, though a muted one. He blamed that on circumstance, having no real idea at the truth behind the matter. The sense of closure he'd had in the time that followed his revival as a human (closure over his loss of Amikris, not the loss of who he had been...again...) must have come from the stress of everything else, or so he thought.

Reality was far more...complicated, but the drunkard neither knew, nor contemplated its intricacies.

"Rumor has it that getting so blasted drunk that you fall asleep on the spot usually leaves you regretting it in the morning," Sarresh mused aloud, as the next round of drinks were delivered and the entire drinking party judged, and found wanting, by the bartender. Wise that one was, for he did not speak, and Sarresh felt that for the best.

I'd be insulted if I wasn't as drunk as I am. Was it really only the one drink? I Think I should be insulted by the bird. Thus decided, he tipped the new drink back and sipped slowly, savoring the odd flavors. "And I'm back from the 29th century, so I imagine it's a bit of tit for tat as to who understands what, my metal feathered friend. Best of luck sorting yourself out. Who am I? Why am I here? Why does the universe continue to shit down my throat? Welcome to personhood, Albert."

Some of the eloquence of that was lost on the slight slur that the alcohol managed to insert into Sarresh's tone and speech. At least I didn't call the engineer a bitch too, I'll let the bird do that, the time traveler thought with a silly little giggle that he failed to keep quiet.

Swallowing and tilting his head back, he glanced at the ceiling lights, then back out the window to the glow of the Aldean' system and the shipyard that dominated his immediate view. "No more than Dr. Nicander and Captain Ives already...fucked me?? Was that the term you used? Yeah. Fucked works well." He tossed the drink back.

"All the Savi really did was take away the artificial eyes' I'd just about gotten used to having, and replaced them with real, honest to god Human eyes. Nicander and Ives took away the species I used to be when they refused to let me die. I was Ash'reem. Look them up in the database." He grinned a nasty grin.

"At the rate things are going, that'll be the only place you can find them any more. Fairly certain they aren't going to make it to the 29th century. Damn shame. Wee - they - are a fascinating people. But no, the Savi only took me away from my home long enough to be absent for the death of the woman I'd fallen in love with, and gifted me with real, genuine sight. They wouldn't turn me back to the way I was, before everything.

"Funnily enough, I kinda miss the artificial eyes. They were useful. Seems ungrateful of me to want someone to pluck these out and give me the fakes back again, doesn't it?" It was unclear which he was asking the question of - the inebriated human or the still adjusting to the concept of life owl.

Giggling again, he paused, the ironic smile falling. ”You lost someone. I remember that from the ship. I remember feeling sympathetic. I don’t like feeling sympathetic.” he pointed at her, remembering her wailing in loss. ”There was a vulcan with you who seemed distraught on your behalf.”

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #8 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Drunk is Bad | Drunk is Good | This May Not End Well | Sickbay Take All the Pain Away]
@Brutus



He mentioned that rumor had it that someone could fall asleep after drinking so much that they didn't wake up until morning.  Her brow rose.  That sounded blissful.  The nightmares consistently plagued her and it wasn't something that she really wanted to continue happening.  Though, it wasn't late enough to spend the whole day asleep and if she did it was likely that Ranaan would catch her asleep and try to figure out what was going on.  He had enough fucking stress right now that she didn't think he needed to be worried about her any more than he already was.  She knew that he couldn't feel everything she was going through right now, because if he could, he probably would have not been able to leave her side right away, gone to work, to get on with life.

She was actually glad for it.

There were times that he didn't need any more stress than he already had and this was one of those times.  Blue knew that she came across as fairly selfish from time to time but honestly, she loved him deeply, and wanted to protect him as much as he protected her.  She knew that had he not been on the Theurgy she would have torn up the fucking universe looking for him, at least, if there was the slightest change that he would still be alive.

She imagined.. he might be the same, though it was hard to know.  As she was not an empath.

Her brow rose at Sara and she gave a bit of a grin.  “Yeah?  Well fuck, I may have to take some of this shit home with me.”  It would be good, for both her and Ducote, if they could have a night without the nightmares.  She knew that they woke him up as much as they woke her up, and she knew that it was likely that her mind was more unshielded during the night too.  She hated to think that he was suffering, in this way, because of her.  When it was her actions that earned her the Brig or something, that was on her and she never asked for or expected special treatment.  But, when it was something like this, that by being around her and associating with her put extra strain on his system, she felt bad and guilty.  Why should he have to suffer for knowing her.

The man spoke to Albert about his personage and the owl shifted for a moment as he pondered his response.  [It is true, much of my processing capabilities is required to be spent on the purpose of my creation now.  As it stood before, I was merely a tool, however now, I have been upgraded and must find a place for myself now.  It is a unique situation.]

She grinned when the drunken man threw her words back at her, fucked.  Resting her jawline in the palm of her hand, she put the weight of herself on the elbow which was on the table.  Tumble of curls swaying at the movement before settling still.  “Fucked is a great word.  You know.. people really under appreciate how versitile fucked can be.  I fucking use fuck so fucking much that it's practically my fucking adjective for fucking thing.  You know there are a fuck ton of ways to use the word fucked, and people just don't fucking appreciate the word and then there are those fucking people who are fucking abhorred that someone dared to fucking use the fucking word fuck.” she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I – wait, the Captain and a Doctor fucked you over?  Do tell?  I have to work here I need to know the fucking details!”

He went on to explain that the artificial eyes that he had had been taken away by the Savi and regular human eyes were given to him.  Blue's black brow arched again but she was still listening even in her drunk state, she wasn't so far gone that she wasn't paying attention.  He told her about Ives and Nicander taking away the race that he had been when he came from the twenty ninth century.  She brushed some of her curls out of her face and tilted her head a little bit more on the hand that still held it aloft.

“They took your fucking race?!  What the fucky fucking fuck.. why?!”  she held up a finger on her free hand though it didn't have the power that it could have because... it was swaying slightly.  “Wait.  They wouldn't let you fucking die?!  Why?!  Do you pee dilithium crystals?” she laughed her head tilted back for a moment at the sheer thought of something so outrageous and yet.. seriously awesome.  She would need to see that one first hand.  In a totally, Engineering capacity, as she had no attraction to the man.

He was gone while the woman that he loved died, and then he admitted that he remembered she had lost someone that was important to her.  She blinked lazily.  He mentioned Cross and a grin crossed her lips.  “Fuck yeah!  I love that man, I mean in a totally like familial way, like... the man is my fucking brother for life now or s... some shit.  I don't know.  He fits well though.  Somewhere in there.” she waved her drunken hand to the side for a moment and sighed.  “Cross helped me hold my shit together while I was going through some really rough fucking shit.  The loos of Ranaan was... fucking hard, he is like.. my air.  You know?  You know air, because you totally need it to breathe... and I didn't have that.  And .. I could hear his fucking voice! when I was sleeping, and I thought he was right fucking there, and then .. he fucking wasn't!”

She looked down at her glass and picked it up taking another swig that finished it off.  The burn down her throat was nice against the pain that she couldn't easily talk about to Ranaan.  He didn't understand what he was like, for her, in her life.  He went on working and she was fairly fucking sure that it was a coping mechanism, but at the same time, she had been fucking MISSING!!!! and he had just gone back to work and... everything!

“He was here though.” she admitted putting her glass down.  “Got picked up by the Theurgy in the Niger, and was fucking here the whole fucking time I was on that shit ship being tortured and busting my ass to save the fucking Fleet.  He was fucking here!  Working!  And... and sleeping!  And having a Quarters and being fucking safe!  Fucker.  Don't... don't get me wrong I'm glad he's alive... I can breathe again.  I can't fucking sleep, but I can breathe.  I just... I don't think he will ever fucking understand the magnitude of the sheer amount of fucking shit that went on … over there.”  her voice was quiet.

Oh shit.  She was being un-what was the word- she couldn't fucking think of it at this time.  “I'm sorry you lost your woman though. That's shit!  Was she here?  Like on this ship?  Or was it like back in the future.. forward in the future?  I don't even know.  But, like what happened to her?  You know if you wanna talk about it, if not I can request another round until you can't think about it.  I know how much it fucking sucks.  My shit worked out in the fucking end but.. it could have gone the other fucking way too.”

She sighed, and looked at her empty glass.

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #9 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

By Sarresh's book, at least someone had come out on top of the whole Savi affair - Albert the robot owl. He wasn't entirely sure that sentience was all things were cracked up to be, as he sipped at the new drink and managed not to make a face, lounging as he did, oblivious to the stares he was getting. That owl though, seemed like a mighty fine thing to have had happened. Bright spot indeed. Here's to you, Birdy, he silently thought, tipping the glass in the constructs direction before they all settled down into more serious talk.

As serious as a pair of drunks and a new born life could get, in any case.

There was a fleeting moment of surprise, and a hint of amusement that passed over Sarresh's face. After having spent most of the past night with Lt. zh'Ptrell, interrogating and trying to reason with people that not only knew his history, but quite honestly worshiped him as some kind of messiah figure, this was refreshing. He almost giggled. "I don't piss dilithium. That would be a might bit painful. No, I have Knowledge. I can't remember what I do and don't know, which as you're fond of saying is rather fucked," he gleefully pointed out, swirling his drink in one hand as he propped a leg up against the table. Running his tongue over his lips, he tapped the side of his head with his drink.

"Memory engram encoding. I think. Keeps all that pesky future knowledge suppressed, except when absolutely needed. When a breach happens. Time travel is a bitch and I know it better than all of you. Even when I don't know it. Temporal Prime Directive, blah blah blah. Point is, it was determined that I was too valuable to allow to die after my insides were nearly liquefied from a swim in a lake in the middle of an acid rain storm. Pesky porous skin. They reconstructed me the best they could and ended up like...this."

Sarresh swept his hands down his body, to indicate the human form. "Turns out there were a lot of genetic similarities between Ash'reem and human's and it was easier to clone and replace what was lost with Human DNA than try to replicate the actual Ash'reem code. Has the added benefit of making me part of a species that isn't dying off. I'm a right medical miracle actually. If you over look the ethical questions involved, and the fact that the man that did this had a parasite in him, Dr. Nicander aught to be up for some kind of medical prize. Really, ground breaking work.

"Hell, I even got my own cult out of it. What a fucking mess that is." He downed what was left of his drink and pulled a bitter face, swallowing and letting out a small cough. He settled back in his chair, one arm draped over the back, the other leaving the the glass on the table top. He could feel his toes wiggling in the shoe propped up on the edge, feeling a little fuzzy and distant. His brow furrowed as he focused on them, making them shift about and then hold still, with an effort.

Her voice pulled him back and away from his attempts, and he slowly blinked, looking up and over the table. He was like my air, You know?  You know air, because you totally need it to breathe... and I didn't have that. The words bit in hard and the look of concentration was washed away, and one of understanding and deep, abiding hurt replaced it. He didn't realize, not at first, that she'd got this Raan folk back. For one brief moment, he felt a connection to her, and understanding.

And then he discovered she'd not actually lost the man after all. How fucked is that? She gets hers, and I lose mine. All on the same ship.. The hurt look became a bitter one and he found himself glancing away, looking over his shoulder, out at the surface of Aldea in the window, past the arms of the dockyard complex. There was a war inside of him, between his anger at the universe for what it had done to him, and the foreign impulse to be happy that someone else had not been shat on quite as hard by fate as they'd thought. Why her lover, and not mine? he wanted to rage that out to the stars, but even drunk, he did not. Swallowing, he turned his head back and affixed a smile that slumped slightly from one side of his face to the other, his muscles not accustomed to the gesture.

"Another. Its funny. I don't actually drink. Ever, but yes, another. That's why I'm here, after all," he noted with a hollow chuckle. "It's good though. That your...Raan? Runner? Back. Its good. Good." he insisted. His hand raked through his hair again, leaving it standing on ends, and gripping the back of his neck after let out a whump of air from his gut, cheeks puffing out.

"Her name was Ryuan Sel. I met her just after I'd been transformed. The crew of the....the...oh fuck what was it called....Harrybanger? no, thats not it. Harbinger!" Sarresh snapped his fingers to accentuate the point, as he'd seen humans do. "They mutinied and attacked sickbay. Sel was there. Bajoran. Fiesty. Fucking shoot everyone around. We uh..."How the hell do I tell someone that we got dosed by Deltan pheromones? "We got dosed by some Deltan pheromones and well, one thing led to another. And then kept leading to another. And another, and another. And before I knew it, she was staying over. I didn't have to share a room." He told her, as if that explained everything.

"I was told that she was assimilated and terminated in the process. Saving others of course. Because it would take the Borg to kill her. Nothing else would be challenging enough to do it. She was the whole reason I pressed on, on that ship." It was clear he meant the Versant. "And I find out last night that she was dead before we arrived in system to join the fight against the Borg."

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #10 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Real Shit | Bring Us A Round Piano Man | Tonight is the Night we Felt like Shit | Thank Heavens for Future Medicine]
@Brutus



It was a disappointment he didn't piss out crystals.  While it might have been painful as fuck as they passed through his little tubes and what not.  It would have been beneficial for her ship and her Engineering department and all of that shit.  But, she supposed you would have to be one cool mother fucker if you were going to piss or shit that stuff.  He had knowledge but he couldn't remember what he did and didn't do.  She grinned as he adopted her favorite terminology.  Cultivated through the various years of using it and finding the most creative places to spend the word to get the job done.

Blue followed along-ish with his little diatribe about how he had been a time traveler, and he had done things.. seen things, then smartly took a dip in an acid pond because it probably seemed like a fun pass time only to find himself nearly liquefied because of it.  Apparently, some Fleetery assholes decided to fix him up but while they couldn't get what he had used to be back together as it probably didn't exist yet or some kind of hokey pokey time travel shit, the closest proximation (say that word drunk three times fast) would have been human. 

“Wow that's a serious mother fucking downgrade.” she admitted with a sigh.  “They could have at least given you like... fucking Betazoid powers or.. like um, I don't know... cool... abilities or something.  Like if they're going to strip all that was fucking badass about you away the least they could fucking do was make sure you had something badass to replace it.”

Blue looked at the man.

“You.  Have a fucking cult?  Well.. I'm not joining that shit.  Maybe if you actually did piss dilithium, but you don't, so sorry, you don't get to have this fucking genius of an Engineer in your cult.” she sighed as though she was really disappointed but the smile on her face was giving herself away of course.

Something happened to him when she mentioned that Ranaan was back, alive, breathing, working, sleeping.  Traitorous fucker.  She figured that it was probably bad to tell him when he didn't get his person back.  It was clear that he hadn't and the shift on his face gave more to that now as well.  Still, there was nothing she could do about having Ranaan back.  She was both pissed the fuck off at him and glad that he was alive.  She didn't want to tell him that she was pissed off, she didn't want to tell him that while she was glad he was alive she was really fucking pissed that he had been here safe and sound.  While she suffered, suffered a pain that had been insurmountable.  That led her to fucking hurting herself, and fucking needing counseling sessions and shit!  But, she also didn't want him to feel bad for being alive because she was really fucking glad that he was alive.

“yeah.  Thanks.  I'm glad too.” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder, though her eyes told that the nonchalance her body was trying to say was shit.  Having him back was the only reason she was fucking standing.

He began to talk about his woman, this Rel … person.  Odd name.  But it seemed that she was a tough bitch and they had gotten freaky a few times.  He had eventually stopped sleeping alone and enabled himself to get close to her.  The only reason he held on while they were on the Versant was to get back to Shelly.  Relly?  Something.  She could understand that, and gave a nod.

“I thought.. he was dead.  The whole time.  I held on for.. I don't even fucking know.  Sheer determination.  And... fucking.. so many other fuckers needed to be helped out.  There was so much shit on that ship and … my goal was to get as many people off that fucking place before I fucking let the darkness take me.” she admitted looking at her empty glass and giving out a sigh.

“To your woman!”  Blue held up her empty glass and sighed.  “Get me another fucking drink I'm trying to make a fucking toast here!” she called out to the bartender who turned bright red and quickly began making their drinks.  He rushed over to the table giving her the blue one and him whatever he had been drinking.  She grabbed up the booze and tried again.

“To your woman!  Again!” she laughed and clashed her glass with his before taking it all down in one long drink.

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #11 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

"Please, gods no. The last thing I want are more bloody cultists. I just spent most of last night trying to convince the surviving idiots to find faith in anything worthwhile, like their misbegotten Starfleet oaths, instead of me. I'm the last person any of you should be worshiping." His reaction, filled with a bit of scorn and a bark of a laugh, had pulled his thoughts away from her comment about being downgraded to human. She wasn't entirely wrong, though there were a few factors about humanity that probably classified as an upgrade.

No chance of telepathy. That might break my memory engram encoding and we can't have that little violation of the Temporal Prime Directive, nope nope. We can just violate the regular Directive like a drunken Klingon in an Orion whore house.

Something of his thoughts had bled into his expression before her comment had elicited his own vehement denial, and he shook his head now, affecting that drunken smile that still failed to reach his eyes. That look only grew more and more brittle as they talked. As she realized he probably felt a bit of ....envy? Hurt? At her luck. Even as he wished her well. And well he did wish. Oh, he was angry at fate, and the timeline, at the Relativity, the Borg, Ives, and these parasites for costing him a love he'd struggled to accept was real. But he didn't fault the strange woman across from him. It wasn't her fault that the universe had chosen to spare her mate and shit all over him instead.

And besides, this Blue understood. She really understood. Sure, her numbers came up on the great galactic daboo wheel, but she had been convinced that she'd lost it all. Unlike the first time, losing Amikris, this time, the pain was as raw as the cavity from a recently pulled tooth, that someone had jabbed a needle into and wiggled it around. "It's a darkness that gnaws at you. Slowly  eating you from the inside out. Teeth gnashing at your heart."

He hadn't realized he's spoken aloud. Even that description didn't do justice to how the drunkard felt. A blackhole where my heart is, he thought, dredging up an age old cliche. He looked down at his shirt, wondering what he was playing at by wearing Bajoran trappings. He was no Bajoran, and by all accounts, his lover was a heretic in their culture.  He thought to the earing of hers, left behind in her possessions as his fingers curled into a fist at his chest, bunching the fabric between them.

Reality snapped back around the displaced man, his eyes blinking a few times as he heard Blue cry out for more drink. The past few moments, her words, rushed back into his mind and he nodded, lifting his own glass in turn. The bartender scowled at them both, but did not verbally object. Just...judged.

Well fuck you too, pal, the ugly thought hit the mourning mans mind with a force that Sarresh could not counter, though the words did not slip past his lips, at least. A sharp narrowing of the eyes, accompanied by a tensing of his jaw, and earned the man a terse nod as the drink was poured. But no words, at least. No chance to make a fool of himself that way.

Toasts would serve that.

"TO SEL," he agreed, loudly, the two glasses clinking together. He drank, and fell back into his chair, one leg over the arm of it now, and he unsure how that had happened. Not that he cared. Oh, he was past caring about something as simple as that. He hiccuped and grinned, stupidly.

"To your raan, and not getting totally fucked." he raised his glass, stopped, and looked at the Owl. The smile took on  a rather crooked cast. "And to you, dear bird. You're either the luckiest of us all, or the poorest bastard. Not sure which." He toasted and raised the glass to his lips once more, swallowing what remained of the burning drink as the world swam around him.

Somehow the glass found its way back to the table with a loud clatter, wobbling on its base before settling down. He rubbed his fingers together, because they felt fuzzy. Everything felt fuzzy. He had to wonder if he’d ever been this drunk. He didn’t think so. Or ....he didn’t remember. Surely, an uptime bender...blender? couldn’t be so revealing that you’d make me forget that, Ducane. Or maybe I was such an ass that I asked to forget....no, you’d make me remember if that was the case. He could remember Ducanes face and voice, and not a single other encounter with the man from before he came back to this time, but he was sure of that.

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #12 –
[Blue Tiran | Sore Hearts | Hollow Spaces | Love is Pain | Not Enough Booze to Bandaid the Hole]
@Brutus



He was right.

He knew the pain, and so did she.  She spent days thinking and knowing that Ducote was dead.  Knowing he didn't make it off that ship when Shar and Cross had forced her into the escape pod.  She needed him, to breathe, to live, to survive.  She supposed that made her weak and sometimes she got really fucking pissed off at herself for needing him so fucking much.  But, she couldn't change the fact that he was someone special to her.  He had seen her when no one else had, had been there for her when everyone thought she was a lost cause.  She had needed someone to really fucking see her and he had.  He had seen her, and fallen for her, loved her, and dealt with her.  She had bucked the system.  Acting out, letting anger take control, ending up in the Brig more times than she could count.  But, he hadn't run away, even when she pushed, he was there and she knew that some of it was because he had empathy and some of it was because he was giving her the chances she needed to build that trust between them.

She nodded at his words.  “It's like having your heart ripped out of your chest, and there's just this fucking black hole there, a hollow space... a fucking void that just sucks all the other shit around you into it and consumes it.  It takes your fucking air, your desire to breathe another breath, it's so fucking.. “ she paused a moment.  “Painful isn't even a strong enough word.”

Blue sighed softly and brushed her mass of curls off her shoulder.  The bartender came over giving both the officers a healthy glare, which Blue returned tri-fold because she was done with his fucking judgemental glares.  They had been through a lot of shit while he was up here serving drinks to other officers.  She wanted to punch him in the fucking face and then maybe the ball sack for good measure, because that would have been maybe.. enough.  Maybe.  But, getting Brig'd like the second day she was back on a ship and newly appointed as Chief Engineer was likely not going to be the right move for her today.  She could only manage Ran's face.

Though; the mere thought of his face when he came around the corner to give her the Brig chat that they had perfected over a good serious amount of years in practice was beautiful.  Especially when she said 'I just wanted to see how comfortable it was in here.  You already warmed the seat for me.'  Oh she was most definitely going to save that shit for later.  Hopefully she would remember it by then.

But, she was pretty drunk.

Finally, drinks were brought and she picked up her new drink and held it up.  He cheered to his woman, and she cheered to her man and she grinned at Sara.  He was a good guy, bad name choice, but good guy.  She hoped that she could make friends here too.  She had, back on the Endeavour and it was nice to have a family of her own making.  Blue knew that she wasn't easy to deal with, and she also knew, that she could come across as harsh and crass.  But, she knew those that stayed through her fits and her rage, were those that got her on a deeper level and were the truest of friends.

Albert shifted as he was addressed by Saresh and tilted his head just slightly as though he was studying the inebriated individual.  [I consider myself with an upgrade.  However, I do not require a celebration to the effect.  I appreciate your consideration.  Miss Blue, I believe it is time to inform you however, that you should consume no more beverages.]

“Are you fucking with me?” she asked him looking over at the blue-eyed owl.

[I am merely reminding you of your schedule, you have a session with your therapist.]

“that's not til like.. fucking this evening like... 2000 hours or something.” she said brushing his concern off.

[It would probably be unwise, though, if you were to show up inebriated or hung over.]

“I'll just visit sickbay for a fucking shot before I go!” she scoffed.

[Might I remind you both that according to the medical texts I have access to alcohol does not actually solve your problems, instead, only will depress you later when the numbness provided temporarily fades.]

“Mother fucking buzz kill.” she snorted and took another long sip of her drink.  He wasn't wrong though, either.  “I guess this should be my last drink... if I can't walk straight I'll have to call Ran and I'll get the lecture.  I don't need a fucking lecture today man... fuckin'... lecture.”

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #13 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

No, painful isn't a strong enough word. Not by far, Miss-Named-After-My-Highlights, Sarresh thought to himself in bitter agreement. He decided that - in his stupor - he wasn't going to feel anger toward the woman. She really had understood what it meant. And just because fates had decided to turn matters around for her did not lessen the fact that she understood. He wasn't willing to extend that presumption to anyone else at the moment. But his drinking mate had earned the...not kindness, but benefit he supposed.

He was certain there would be no such luck for him. No second chance with the assimilated and terminated Bajoran. No surprise reunion. No happy ending. No miracle of science or fate or whatever it was that had brought Wenn Cinn back from the grave for a short window. No reprieve from the loss and pain.

Just the suffering.

Never mind that I've been through all of this before. The thought was an unwelcome one, and drunk as he was, Sarresh still did not want to wander down the path of memories that led to a young Cadet he had no business cavorting with. But she had been his own species, and there were so few of them away from their homeworld. They'd welcomed him in as was their kinds nature. And she had been ripe, ready, and he had been eager. Comfort sought had been comfort shared, and as was the lot of their ilk, bonds had formed, and swiftly.

And they'd been ripped away, all too fast, and all to slow. A painful death for her, a horrific reconstruction for him.

The loss feels so much more distant....because it is not as fresh as Sel's? The thought was pushed aside just in time to refocus on the here and now. The blue one was smiling at him, and his lips contorted into an appropriate approximation of the same expression to her in turn. This one is as fucked up as I am. How quaint. Sarresh was surprised by just how much that felt reassuring. If he'd remember the feeling the next time he saw her was, of course, utterly up in the air, as the humans were fond of saying.

Blinking slowly  a few times, Sarresh worked through the words of the owl, cocking an eyebrow high on his forehead in his best Vulcan impression. "Fasckinating," he slurred the words in an attempt to sound logical. He snorted a bit as the bird deemed itself worthy to lecture its creator. There's something philosophical about children and parents in there... he realized, a sure sign that he was inebriated. As if he needed a sign.

He never philosophised, though now he took great pleasure in the thought that his existence would give the ancient philosophers of his world - his former world - a headache. The smile leads to a giggle as he savored the flavor of whatever it was he'd consumed. "Should have named him Nanny," Sarresh helpfully contributed, gesturing with the rim of his glass toward Albert the mecha-owl. Though his own features contorted into a frown at the birds words toward the end, on the nature of alcohol.

"Do you think medical can give me a shot to forget about all that depressing me then, bird?" he asked, meaning to be snippish but coming off as desperately hopeful instead. She had a therapy session, he belatedly  realized. He himself wondered if there was any counselor assigned to the staff that had the clearance to psychoanalyze him. Not that he wanted his head shrunk, but it might do him good.

Oh yes, I must be sloshed if I'm thinking that.

”I’ve had enough lectures from Ives,” Sarresh muttered, his voice dropping out of some subconscious desire to keep his own word about not causing subversion. No fermenting rebellion among the crew. That was his agreement and he’d stick to it. Ives was an ass who didn’t understand what Sarresh’s position should be, but Ives was still their best possible hope. ”Best to avoid them whenever possible. Soundest advice I can give” He swallowed on nothing, then frowned at his already empty glass. Now when had that happened? He didn’t even remember draining the concoction. It just wasn’t fair.

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #14 –
[LCdr Blue Tiran | Back to the Grind | We Should Commiserate Again | Leave the Asshole at Home]
@Brutus




It seemed, that he was intrigued by Albert and his big damn mouth.  Blue looked over at the little fucking bird that sat there thinking he was superior to them in every way.  Albert could be a prick when he wanted to be and that was pretty much his go-to personality at this point.  She gave a shrug.  “I'm only partly responsible for his creation.  I made him, programmed him and all that shit, but the Savi fuckified him and now he's an asshole.  Which, on one hand is really fucking hilarious when it's pointed at other people, but it's really fucking annoying when I have to deal with it myself.”

Sara said they should have named him Nanny and she laughed.  “Well he used to be a PADD interface system, something that was louder and more annoying then my PADD alarms to keep my shit straight.  Now he has a mind of his own and Ives is all about him being his own person and having his own job and shit now.  He's no longer mine but his own.  Or some random ass shit.”

It was something that definitely bothered Blue, she loved Albert, he was family and she was glad, in a way, that he got an upgrade.  However, she really wished that she could have kept him the way that he was.  It was hard for Blue to have a great deal of change and Albert having his own fucking personality now was still a culture shock that blue was getting used to.  She was contemplating giving him his own space in their Quarters, or in her office, something like that.  She hadn't really figured out where yet but she figured that it would be best to actually talk to him about it.  Probably when she wasn't so shitfaced.

Albert shifted and looked at the man across the table.  [I am certain there is medication for the chemical imbalance in the brain tissue that causes depression.] he said.  Blue snorted and shook her head. 

“You're being an ass again.”

[He asked a question which I merely answered.]

“Yeah but he doesn't have the kind of depression that comes from a fucking chemical imbalance.”

[I do not understand any other.]

“I bet you don't.”

She grimmaced as he mentioned lectures from Ives.  “Yeah, I'm sure I'll be a regular, but oh well.  If he or she.. or whatever sex they are at that moment is a thinks they have something other Captain's before him..her whatever... had... they're wrong.  I got this.  I'm smart as fuck, quick as fuck, and I don't take shit.  I do give it though, which is when I'll end up in their office or the Brig. I'm pretty fucking familiar with them bo-”

[Commander Tiran, come in, Tiran come in, Over.]

The fuck...  “This is Tiran, why the fuck do you sound like you're playing army men in the back yard?!”

[I'm using the combadge like a walkie talkie!  Because it's fun.  Over.]

Blue closed her eyes and tried to stay calm.  “Who the fuck is this?”

[Oh!  Right!  Haha, Give me a K!  Give me an I!  Give me a K!-]

“Fucking Stevens what the fuck are you destroying my amazingly good buzz for?”

[Uhhh, hey Conners, what were we calling the Commander for?]

*indistinct conversation*

“Conners is there?  Why isn't he fucking calling me?”

[I'll.... call you right back!  NO I DON'T HAVE ANY NINES GO FI-]

Blue pinched the bridge of her nose for a long moment and let out a long breath.  Then she looked over at Sara.  “I better go kick some asses back into gear.” she said as she got up and swayed slightly.  Holding up a finger she grinned.  “After Sickbay puts me back into really fucking pissed off sober mode.  Hey, if you need a drinking buddy again, let me know, I'll even leave buzz kill behind.” she pointed at Albert before picking him up off the chair and putting him back into the spot on her shoulder.

“Don't have too much fun without me.” she said as she began to work her way in an unintended zig zag pattern towards the door.
 

Re: Day 12 [1200 hrs.] Drinking Devils Away

Reply #15 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ 
[Show/Hide]

Sarresh was struck with a feeling of how quaint this was. Not the getting shiftfaced drunk - he was pretty sure he qualified at that, but that was beside the point. No it was the subject at hand - Ives insisting that the robot chicken thing had its own rights now, was its own person. To Sarresh, the subject of artificial sentient life was a closed subject. If they thought they were their own thing. There were tests he knew, and if you passed that you were a you and not an it and that was that. He did a long, slow blink, because he belatedly realized that those tests hadn't been invented yet. And wouldn't' be for...

for....damn. There and gone again. Shit. He knew that those laws would be passed, but not when, and now that he tried to think on it - screwing his face up a bit in the process - he couldn't say for sure what the specifics were. Just what made up the parameters of the test. Had he ever known that? Would that level of fine grained detail have mattered to his job on the Relativity, or was it just a factoid in passing that he had picked up while he was uptime. Surely that simple sense of surety couldn't be mission critical. So why then did he have even that much? Was it an aftereffect of the real alcohol? A glitch in the programming? Something more?

I hate this kind of thing, he concluded as he shrugged a bit and looked at Albert, the both of them something they hadn’t been not long before, though the time traveler couldn’t say whom had changed more. There was a ship of Theseus joke in there somewhere, he figured, but the downtime analogy slipped away before he could really suss it out. He didn’t mind. It wasn’t all that funny a joke anyways.

"If he's a former PADD alarm replacement I suppose it makes sense that he nags you. Core programming, now with its own attitude. I wonder what job Ives will give you, my metal feathered friend." He slurred the last three words, but didn't notice.

Mimicking the owl, he tilted his head to the side, birdlike and pondered. "Not sure that kind of medication would work on me anyway. Anything that futzes with the brain probably gets kicked back out of the system pretty hard. Except apparently booze." That was a funny little fact. Of course, he could have been speaking right out of his ass. One thing was certain to Sarresh, however - the depression gnawing at his soul right then was not the kind that a simple chemical rebalancing could remove. Loss of a loved one was its own special kind of depressed hell. Not like some kind of brain malfunction. It ate at your soul, and no pill in the world would take care of that.

Alcohol, he discovered, at least dulled it temporarily. It made everything fuzzy and somewhat numb, putting it all on a remove. And that was a blessing. Even his toes were fuzzy right then, and he rather liked that, he decided.

Everything was interrupted, however, by the chirp of color-name's combadge. The off duty 'human' leaned forward, curious and amused as the engineer reacted with her own particular brand of vulgarity. Who the hell is this Steven's, and how have they managed not to get shoved out an airlock? Sarresh wondered, realizing belatedly that he was actually giggling of all things, and covered his mouth, mortified. And still very much amused at Terrain's reaction.

Chortling openly now, Sarresh raised his glass in something approaching a look. He could see the bartender watching them, seemingly relieved that Blue - that was her name, not Magenta, Blue - was leaving. No real surprise there, but really, the man was a bartender. He should just do his job, and tend bar.

The smile Sarresh gave Blue and her bird was not the kind that reached his sad eyes, but it was real enough. "I pity your subordinates. Good luck Commander." a long pause, and then, "I might just take you up on that offer in the future. I think it's going to take a lot of these." he raised up the glass, "To begin to move on. Take care, Albert." No reason not to be polite to the new lifeform.

He watched her sway and leave, and then stared down into the empty glass. He had - possibly - just acquired a very strange friend. A drinking buddy at least, which was something he was dead set sure was new. That didn't begin to replace the loss, however. Setting the glass down he looked out the window, at the Aldea system, the glow of the sun, and the dockyards around them, filling the room with a yellow/green light, warming every surface it touched.

Logically, Sarresh should do just what Blue was doing. Go to Sickbay, get something to counteract the 'real' booze and get his head screwed on straight before going back to his quarters to sleep. But there wasn't anyone there for him. Just the empty loneliness that would claw away at him. And it wasn't night yet. Not that that mattered. He'd been up far too long as it was.

He should go back.

Instead, he raised his glass. Just one more round
 
Simple Audio Video Embedder