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Day 04 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Kythalie's shift had just been over and surprisingly, it had been a slow one with not a lot of action. She didn't mind it truth be told and the last two hours, she had just posted herself here at the Memorial wall. She was still in uniform, the gold and black colored skirted uniform giving away she was a security officer. She was staring at a single name on the wall and while she had been here for hours, she only now took the liberty to sit down and cross her legs. A soft sigh left her as she wasn't sure how this was supposed to go. She had seen people grieve here. In various forms and shapes, some cried, sobbed and did just that. Others tried to speak to those lost, talking against the wall. Speaking about how much they were missed, how their day had gone. Things like that.

Kythalie however wasn't sure what to do. Eboh would probably mock her for talking to an inanimate object. The very thought of it made the curly Betazoid scoff and laugh lightly. When she stopped, she let out a sigh and shook her head. Nothing had felt right ever since the Borg invasion, in fact nothing even added up since that. She did her shifts, helped where she could, though she felt disconnected to herself. It was as if she was just running it on autopilot. At some occasions she had wondered if she should check things with counseling. That idea was quickly washed away as she feared they might put her on inactive duty and she'd just go crazy being holed up in her shared quarters.

She stared up at Eboh's name and shook her head again slightly, softly whispering "Look at what you're making me do. Why couldn't you just stay alive for once. You had to be the fucking hero." she scoffed and sniffed lightly, letting her head drop and letting her curls mask her face while she fumbled with her fingers. A few tears rolled down from her cheeks and she wiped them off before looking up high, trying to get a grip of herself.

She just wanted to have him back, he was funny and somewhat cute. She could be herself around him. Her mind drifted and her barriers lowered lightly. Doing so opened her up and a nagging, gnawing pain ate up against her as she felt it was familiar. She looked to the left to see it's point of origin. A Caucasian male stood a few feet further by the wall, seemingly here to pay his respects as well. She observed him silently and the pips on his collar betrayed his rank. A lieutenant no less. She kept looking at him and remembered him to be a person of interest for the lost Mistress at Arms, Ryuan Sel.

She gathered up some courage and slowly got up before walking over to Sarresh. She wasn't sure how to strike up conversation here. Yet she had seen the man here a lot whenever she came here. It seemed like he had lost something precious to him, more than just Sel. She came to stand besides him, looking at the other names on this section before she moistened her lips with her tongue and said softly "It never gets easy here, does it?"

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #1 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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The previous night had been a long, late affair, and Sarresh was surprised to find himself not physically exhausted. He was, blessedly, off duty today, following the events of his mission to the Azurite Station. It was half the reason he'd allowed himself to act upon the blanket invitation that all the junior officers aboard ship had been issued to attend a rock concert in one of the Holodecks. He'd been thoroughly debriefed about all that he had seen and discovered (and suffered) on the clandestine operation, and needed to clear his head. Between not having a shift the following day, and the need to decompress, the concert had seemed like serendipity.

It was now the morning after, and he found himself unable to sleep in, despite it all. There was a bit of fuzzy feeling in his brain, but he let himself act mostly on instinct. He could have decked himself in something loose and comfortable, given he didn't have anywhere to be, but he was working on autopilot that morning, and autopilot decided a full uniform was required. Thus adorned, if not particularly well groomed, he'd padded out of his quarters and let his feet lead him on, as his brain slowly woke itself up and sorted out the night prior, while avoiding thinking of the mission that had preceded the party. What little thought he'd given to his end goal had been a vague notion of a morning swim, but his feet - subconscious - had other ideas. He eventually found himself on the upper deck of the Arboretum, feeling the slightly humid warmth of the room wash over his body as the array of scents from the assorted flora below wafted up along the walkway.

Truthfully he should not have been surprised. After the infiltration and recovery mission to the station at the heart of the current Niga virus concerns, it was hardly a stretch that he would find himself here, looking at her name. Picturing her face. Remembering how they'd met, under the influence of pheromones from that poor, doomed nurse. Struggling to keep their composure. It wasn't all that far off from the effects of the Niga virus, minus the newly disturbingly explosive properties of the end stage of infection. Of course he would think about that, which would lead to other thoughts and desires that he'd thought he'd begun to move past.

A deep, cold longing ate at him as he stood there, looking at her name, remembering her face. The way her nose would scrunch up when he'd kiss the ridges along it. Or how her mouth would hang open for a moment, when he would hold her, touch her in just the right way. That infectious laugh that she only shared with him, when she opened up. He thought he'd managed to get a hold of it all in the almost two months since her passing. He'd made new friends. New connections. Gone on a date or two, though that had not panned out. He'd opened up more of himself to others.

And yet here he was. Looking at her name and missing Sel so much that it was an ache. Whenever anything bad happened he found himself remembering her and longing to have her back. Now he had a place to go to mourn her. A comfort, he supposed in some sense. Not quite a graveyard, as he knew some cultures used. But all the same. A place to connect. The loss of Amikris was a muted thing, shrouded in fog with vague notions of the physical anguish he'd suffered and the loss of his original form far more prevalent than the loss of the relationship and the vibrant young woman she had been. Sel was more like a bleeding gash that had been sewn together, but still sometimes stretched at the sutures holding it together,  never quite fully healing.

So wrapped up as he was - and still suffering from the lack of caffeine in his bloodstream, a human affliction he was coming to terms with - that Sarresh failed to account for the fact that he was not alone any more. Not exactly an uncommon occurrence at the memorial; after all the Theurgy had lost quite a few members of its crew over the course of its mission, and there were plenty of folk left to mourn those losses. A public place like this, it was hardly a surprise that someone would be looking for a name of an old friend or lost lover near where Sel's name was listed. What did catch him off guard was that the person whom had wandered close - or had she been there before him, he found he could not remember - decided to speak to him.

Needless to say, Sarresh was caught off guard. He blinked rapidly, and turned his head with an almost sharp jerk to the side. Eyes that did not look like they belonged on a human face (human in shape perhaps, but utterly alien in nature, no longer mechanical orbs, but swirling with colors more likely found in starlight reflecting on an ocean than in the eyes of a normal human man) went wide in surprise. He was pulled from his stupor by someone adorned in the golden tunic of a security or engineering officer, opting for the skirted variant that had become popular ever since Starfleet introduced the option in the years after the Dominion War.

She was certainly striking, there was little reason to deny such an observation - the woman was fit and attractive by any standard that Sarresh possessed. A few inches shorter than he stood, though with hair that rose up higher than his own head, she had a warm brown complexion and eyes that were pools of pure black. That should have told him right away the nature of the woman, a telltale sign of origin, but his brain, though now jolted with surprise, wasn't quite working fully. Sarresh wasn't sure what exactly it said about him that he noticed her uniform first, her features second, but utterly failed to draw the proper conclusion about her species and instead focus on the fact that she seemed as tall as the woman whose name he'd come to stare at had been.

Nothing good, he would later be certain of.

"I beg your pardon?" The words tumbled out, polite confusion in his tone. That it was polite, and not his usual acerbic bite showed that he was listening to his friends - what a notion - about being less of a grump. Or he was still too groggy to be an ass. Belatedly, her words registered properly. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took her in properly, and noted that, though they had been wiped, her cheeks still glistened faintly with the gleam of tears that had fallen, only to be dashed away. Again, this was hardly a surprise. The first time he'd come here, he'd openly wept. Today, he had no tears ready to fall. Just that nagging sense of loss.

"Easy? No. Even in as lovely a setting as this," he swept his hand out behind them, to encompass not only the memorial, but the carefully cultivated park below, and the café above, "it doesn't get any easier. Not here. Not after...everything." He didn't know who she was or what her story was, but he could guess. While the specifics were likely vastly different from his own, those few softly spoken words told him enough. Whomever the young woman was (a petty officer, he noted in passing), she had loss someone, just as Sarresh had. Perhaps he was too tired to be standoffish, or perhaps the events of the mission were still sitting heavy on him. Either way, he did not push her aside, and the walls that had so frequently welled up around him at the slightest of provocations (just ask Sam Rutherford at how annoying those could be) seemed to stay in their uneasy slumber for now.

He gestured to Sel's name, and elaborated, "Its been months and the loss of her still eats at me. There are other names here as well, but...this is the one I keep coming back to. Fucking Borg." He hadn't meant to say that. To acknowledge the cause. For all the good that had come from that day, the bad was still there in his heart, it seemed. He gave an awkward shrug, a mild thread of embarrassment bubbling up at his small outburst, and how much he was saying to this stranger who had come to mourn. Then again, she was the one that had spoken to him, not the other way around.

"By your question, I guess you feel something similar, when you come here?"

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #2 –
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

The human male turned to look at her and he seemed somewhat baffled and slightly confused as to why Kythalie had approached him. Her eyes looked into his and the strange color of his eyes had her intrigued from the start. She kept staring into them and his opening lines made her wonder if she had made a mistake to reach out to him. She smiled faintly and shook her head slightly, she was about to apologize for intruding. Thinking that she had shouldn't have interrupted the man in his process of grief. However, his initial confusion and surprised state however made way to strike up conversation with her.

Kythalie could agree with the man that despite the fanciness of this place, it remained to be a hard, emotional place of sorrow. His words seemed to hit all the right, painful spots inside Kythalie and she could only nod slowly while she drooped her head down slightly. She could feel the tears well up behind her eyelids as she closed them for a second and she took in a deeper breath before opening her moist eyes. Sarresh seemed to speak openly about Sel as he gestured to her name on the memorial board. She glanced over at her name and when Sarresh spoke out about the Borg, Kythalie tensed up.

Sarresh would've undoubtedly spotted the tension setting into the woman and she clenched her jaws together before sniffling just once. "Fucking Borg. I couldn't agree more with that statement." she said with a certain anger and sadness mixed together in her voice. She clenched both of her fists and kept staring at the wall before his own question made her look back at him. She wiped the built up tears away with the back of her hands and she nodded.

"I do. I lost..." she paused and swallowed as she tried to find the right words for what Bila was to her "I lost a good friend and perhaps even more than that." she said and gestured over to Bila's name. She smiled painfully and touched the letters before she shook her head "While he had done something amazing during the Borg attack... He didn't survive it and yet he saved so many other lives." she spoke softer "I both hate him and love him for that. I hate that he had to be the fucking hero." she said and wiped her tears once more before they'd even start to roll down her cheeks. "So it's like you said. I keep coming back here and it never... Ever... Gets any easier."

She swallowed hard and looked back up at Sarresh, a faint smile forming before she looked down apologetic "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blurt that all out. We both have our losses." she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. She tried to regain her composure and looked back up at him "I just... I've seen you a lot here. I thought that..." she shook her head as it sounded even sillier in her head before she'd speak it out loud. "Never mind, all this grief and pain. It's probably just messing with my head." she sighed.

Her initial idea was to just talk to him, speak about their loss and perhaps learn something from one another to help them in their painful process. Now however, it just felt as if she had torn open a healing wound. Or was it a festering wound? Speaking up about Bila, she had never done so with anyone. She should've just minded her own fucking business.

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #3 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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An unfamiliar stab of guilt plunged into Sarresh heart, making his chest ache for a moment when he caught the flash of pain in the security officers eyes. The bitter bite in her words, mirroring his own hated of the Borg for what they had taken from him, was reflected across the face and tone of a stranger. He should not have been surprised, the Borg were vicious monsters and Ryuan Sel was hardly the only victim of their aborted invasion via the Azure Nebula. Billions of lives had been spared from what had been history's original course, and he would not apologize for that, not with the memories of futures past and now forestalled that still dwelt within his mind. But that did little to ease the personal ache and loss that the Borg had done to him, and clearly, had done to her as well.

At the same time, there were so many names displayed on the walls ringing the upper deck of the Arboretum that there was no reason for him to assume that the darker skinned woman had been mourning a loss so similar to his own, and thus he could not know that by simply elaborating on a small (though hardly insignificant) portion of his own loss would make things worse for her.  And yet as she spoke, and revealed to him the specifics of her own pain, the guilt grew and curled around the dark ball at the pit of his stomach that housed his own loss. A friend, and perhaps maybe more than that. The similarities were not lost on Sarresh. That was how things had started with Sel, and she had crossed firmly into that 'something more' category. He'd cherished that notion, and it had been the thought of returning to her, not the mission, that had seen him through the ordeal with the Savi.

Yet the vibrant Bajoran woman had been dead by the time he was back. Swallowing now, his throat dry, Sarresh struggled to find the words to fit the moment. It was clear that the woman across from him was hurting. So was everyone else. He hadn't started this, she had, and yet he was the one that felt suddenly responsible. A part of him resented that. Human nature, or Ash'reem, perhaps. Then he felt guilty for feeling resentful, and it all manifested as a sharp intake of breath, and slowly released sigh. As uncomfortable as this all was, he wasn't going to begrudge her her grief. He'd been down this road before, though not in the same way, with the now deceased Chief Engineer, and himself in far worse a state. Blue Tiran had made an excellent drinking buddy, and had listened in her way.

Perhaps Sarresh owed it to her memory to listen to someone else.

"You thought, 'here is someone else hurting, maybe talking will help.' You're hardly the first person to think that," Sarresh pointed out, reaching up and smoothing back some of his tussled hair. He'd not bothered to run a comb through it before he'd left his quarters, and only now was he starting to feel the slightest bit self conscious about it. Dealing with his hair was something small that Sarresh could control. Dealing with someone else's emotional state was...neither small, nor his to control. He could only help, which despite all his recent efforts, was hardly his strong point. 

"I would say its a natural impulse, but nothing about me is natural so I can't really be sure." Already he was resorting to one of his standard coping mechanisms when things got uncomfortable - bemoaning his fate and indulging in self deprecation. A little bitterness flashed across his mind before he forced himself to think of someone other than...himself. Another one of those sharp breaths and short sighs followed. Keep that up and she'll think you're going to have a panic attack.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around the room for a moment and then gave a small shrug. There were others, at various points along the memorial, tracing names, or standing by holographic images to have a chat with a long lost colleague. No one was paying any attention to the two of them, the awkward time traveler and the tear stained security officer. No one stared here. It was an unspoken agreement among all those who chose to spend some time with the memories of the honored dead.

"I'm not exactly the most personable of sorts, Miss," he began, and could almost hear the snort of derision that would have come from Sel had she been present. Or Blue. Or Derik . Or...well, or a lot more people than when he'd first joined this mission, he supposed, half of them no longer around. This place just made him even more morose than normal, and yet it did have a certain sort of peace and tranquility that drew him back. "But...someone once listened to me, for a while. And it did help. Maybe the grief is messing with your head. Greif, loss, resentment...Trust me, I am every well acquainted with just how that can screw a person over. I'm a textbook example."

Sarresh managed a small smile. It didn't quite reach those alien eyes of his, but it was genuine none the less, a mixture of amusement at himself, and, to his own surprise, compassion. "Your instincts are probably right, even if everything is...raw. What is it human's are so fond of saying? Don't sell yourself short?" She probably thought it very odd of him to phrase things in such a fashion, given that aside from his eyes, there was no visible sign that he wasn't a human. So many people had joined the crew of the Theurgy since the last desperate act of the so called 'Devoted' that he had no idea if she even knew who he was. After all he hadn't a clue what her name was, what she did, or how long she'd been aboard, though he could discern she'd been with them at the Azure Nebula, if not before.

Someone grieving months later, just like him.

Before he could even think it through, and come up with a myriad of reasons why it was the dumbest, impulsive action he could take, he babbled out, "Which is all to say that I'm a wreck and you're a wreck and maybe you're right and talking would help. There's a café a deck up that overlooks all of this...and I could use a cup of coffee. Interested?"

Idly he wondered if a portion of that Hell he'd heard so much about had just frozen over. What had possessed him to offer to be...social? Maybe he wasn't dealing with all the losses as well as he thought.

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #4 –
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Kythalie looked up at Sarresh as he tried to get into her thought pattern, thinking that talking might help since they both were hurting. The Betzaoid wasn't sure what to make of that, was he telling her that it was a bad idea? She kept looking at him as he continued and told her that there was nothing natural about him. Which somewhere, raised more questions for the curly woman standing in front of him.

Kythalie kept looking in silence to Sarresh as he spoke and spoke. Talking about grief, resentment, loss, how it might affect her thinking pattern, how things would be feeling raw. It was a whole lot of information to take in and while she hadn't been around to witness what the Devoted had done, she had heard about it through rumors and after action reports. Sheh ad no inkling though that the revered man of the fanatics was the person standing in front of her. Nor did she know that Sarresh had been Ash'reem before, although her instincts did pick up  different vibe from him than from anyone else on the deck. Perhaps that's why she had chosen him to talk to, because he had been different.

The man however went ahead and delivered a surprising request to her as he mentioned both of them were a wreck. Which wasn't the big surprise, oh no... The big surprise was him asking her out to have a drink together. To talk and to try and deal with their hardships. She looked up at the café and her stomach growled lightly at the lack of any decent sustenance since her entire shift. She pressed her lips together slightly and gave it some thought before she nodded "I think, I need to eat something. So I might as well do it in company that feels just as miserable as me. I'm tired of the same people coming up to me asking how I am today." she murmured to him.

"So I'll kindly accept your offer." she smiled before realizing he had a rank over her "Sir." she added, just to be safe rather than sorry. She tucked some of her curly hair behind her ear and stepped aside so he could lead the way to the café. She followed him and it didn't take all too long for them to arrive at the overlooking terrace of the Arboretum Café. There weren't that many people around and as they took a seat on the edge of it, overlooking the trees and the memorial site, Kythalie sighed and rubbed in her eyes. When the holowaiter came to get their orders, she looked up at the hologram and spoke up kindly "I'll have... A mochaccino and two slices of apple pie." she looked over at Sarresh to see what he might order before she toyed with the sleeves of her uniform.

"Can I ask what you meant with... Not being normal? About the natural instincts part?" she probed gently to see how he might react and her eyes moved over him and rested on his features to see how he might react. Kythalie was aware that some personal effects of the former mistress at arms were still in storage. She figured they hadn't been offered to Sarresh and wondered if the man might show interest. Her follow up question would probably hit him closer to home, yet she felt like she had to ask, if only to give the man any help for closure. "You were.... You were Sel's partner right?"

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #5 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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You cocked that up in a rather splendid fashion, Sarresh berated himself, watching the other woman and trying to get at read for her. Why did you even make the offer? What were you thinking? Nothing really ever went well when Sarresh made overtures, made the first move, tried to be...sociable. The previous evening should have been a clue, but despite some bumbling there it was a bad analogy. He had actually managed to enjoy himself in the holodeck, surrounded by crew that he worked with day in and day out and hardly knew at all.

But then the woman's stomach growled, and the former Ash'reem was fairly certain that pushed things over into his favor. Which didn't change the fact that he wasn't nearly awake enough to deal with someone else's emotions, or his own, and had just invited a stranger (who had struck up a conversation with him over dead loved ones) to breakfast. Well, breakfast for him. She looked like she'd already been through a long shift if he was in any position to judge. He was right at least, that hunger tipped the scales as she agreed. He even allowed himself a small chuckle.

"There's another saying humans like to toss around that feels applicable - 'misery loves company,'" he reminded the other woman, still not realizing that she wasn't human herself. "Technically I'm off duty today,  so don't worry about following every sentence with 'Sir'." His head tilted slightly at the acknowledgement of rank as he took the lead and made their way up a level in relative silence. In truth, he never really felt like he fit into the sort of structure that Starfleet required. The nature of his position often left him feeling outside the general chain of command on Theurgy, but he knew that was mostly in his head. Then again, he couldn't remember his attitude about rank and placement while serving on the Relativity, so it was hard for him to say where this disconnect came from.

Setting that thought aside, he settled in across from his impromptu companion, tugging his shirt down into place and pulling his chair toward the table. He raised an eyebrow at the order the Petty Officer placed, deciding on the spot that the younger woman clearly had a sweet tooth. Quirking his lips slightly at that, he turned and placed his own order, "Turkish coffee, sweetened, and an order of ful medames."

There was a similar dish back on Ash'kara that involved undersea vegetables and fish eggs accompanied by a sort of seaweed bread and beans grown in the shore farms of some of the planets surface islands, but the eggs in question were quite poisonous to humans, and the replicators had never been very good with the particular vegetable medley in question, so after his 'resurrections' Sarresh had found a decent alternative in the Egyptian meal. And if he were being honest, the Fava beans were much better than what he'd eaten as an Ash'reem.

Find the silver lining, he told himself. Taking the words to heart was the struggle, yet her he was, leaning back in the chair with one hand tossed over the back of it, and one arm stretched out, resting on the tabletop as he watched the woman across from him contemplate and slowly choose her next words. What she settled on first had his eyebrows shooting up high on his forehead. She didn't know who he was; she wouldn't have asked if she had realized. That was certainly novel for him. And he found he didn't mind answering her. He'd been through something like this before, and perhaps that made it easier.

"You clearly weren't aboard during our encounter with the Harbinger, and you didn't join the crew when we...stopped over at the Black Opal base. Probably you weren't here for our trip to Starbase 84 either." Sarresh was no slouch when it came to analytics. Reading people wasn't his strong suit, but at the same time he could deduce a lot based on what she'd said. "That's refreshing, actually. You weren't around for the mess of a mutiny while my body was being reconstructed. I was not born a human. I was born an Ash'reem, an amphibious species that's only recently started reaching out into the galaxy. There were...five of us on the ship. I was the only survivor after....well, best we don't go into those details."

For the briefest of moments he could feel the acid eating through him from the inside out. He shuddered, and bit his lip for a moment before pressing on. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I was grievously injured and the good doctors of this ship couldn't put me back together properly, so they did what they considered the next best thing and managed to save my life, leaving me as a species other than the one I'd been born as. Been a nasty adjustment, let me tell you. Ever read the novel Frankenstein? Great piece of work out of Earths ancient past. I'm Frankenstein's monster, Sarresh Morali. Pleasure to meet you."

He didn't sound as bitter about it as he might, and there was a bit of amusement in his expression as he took in her reaction. Perhaps he was taking a bit of sadistic glee in springing such a thing on someone unsuspecting, but she had asked. True, he could have avoided the question but he had to remind himself that he was making an attempt, poor though it was, to help the woman with her grief because someone had tried to do the same for him.

She seemed to process that, and as she did, the food arrived. He took a sip of his coffee, setting it down just in time for the conversation to take a sharp turn into the deadly personal. The cup rattled slightly as his hand shook, and he snapped his fingers wide, letting it rest on the table, before the small tremor settled. That gnawing ache swelled up again, so much more raw than the lingering hatred that he held onto over the events of his genetic resequencing. He took a breath, and let it out.

"I take it you knew Sel?" An educated guess. He would bet that the petty officer was in Security, not Ops or Engineering, if she was asking about the former Mistress at Arms. For a moment, he could just picture Sel sitting across from him, head tilted to one side, inquisitive and curious as to what he would say. He hurriedly popped one of the hard boiled eggs into his mouth to buy himself a moment, before patting his lips with a napkin and swallowing.

"Partner is... a good word I suppose. Neither of us had put the relationship into words. We just...were. There was love, on my part, and hers, I believe, but we never really got to the point of determining what 'we' were, beyond an acknowledgement that there was an 'us.' I think, given the opportunity....we would have made things more formal. But then I was kidnapped by the Savi because of the oddities of my existence at that point, and Sel...did not survive the encounter with the Borg."

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say next, what he was supposed to ask her. What he was supposed to feel, beyond that empty loss. Sarresh turned a piece of pita bread over between his fingers, feeling the warmth of it, dipping it into the beans and spooning up a mouthful mechanically, to hide his insecurity. And yet...when he'd finished, the words tumbled out anyways, "So I get it...that loss. You must hate the Borg as much as I do, from what you've said so far. For what they took - what I had, what I might have had."

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #6 –
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

The human kept providing Kythalie with human sayings and the Betazoid security officer couldn't help but smile faintly as she had no clue what he meant by it, though it sounded somewhat comical. She wasn't quite sure how to take it all in and the frown on her features might give away the confusion she was experiencing. He did mention that she didn't need to keep calling him Sir as he was technically off duty. Kythalie gave a light nod before they were on their way to the Arboretum Café.

Once they had settled down in the café, she observed the man further as he placed his order. He spoke about how she clearly hadn't been aboard for several key moments. Kythalie shook her head and decided to clarify when she came aboard the ship "I transferred from the Cayuga." she spoke softly and Sarresh however gave her quite a quick summary of what she might've missed. It was here though that she learned that the man in front of her hadn't been human originally. She looked somewhat baffled at first and had a million more questions rise up in her mind. He told her that he was originally Ash'reem and how he was the last one, before he no longer was.

Kythalie looked differently at him, more intrigued by all of this new knowledge. She had shaken her head at his query if she had been accustomed with the Terran work of Frankenstein. It did earn her his name and she smiled as she realized she hadn't introduced herself. "Nice to meet you Frankenstein, Sarresh Morali." she picked in and placed her hand on her chest "I'm Kythalie Benmual." she introduced herself.

Before Kythalie could bombard the man with the questions, their dishes arrived. Another light grumble of her stomach indicated that the need for food was higher than her curiosity. She took a bite first and started chewing while she was faced with a question from Sarresh first. She nodded and swallowed the portion of pie through first. "I worked with her, a few rotations, though nothing more than that."

As Sarresh informed Kythalie that he had been her lover and perhaps even more than that, Kythalie looked at him. She nodded a few times, listening to what he had to say. It all sounded rather tragic, though everything sounded tragic when one was lost far too soon, before their time. Sarresh started eating himself and as he pointed out that their losses were quite significant, Kythalie could only nod as she let out a soft sigh.

"I hate the Borg with a passion right now. Even though we succeeded in stopping them. it still feels like a loss to me." she said softly and toyed a little with slicing off several more pieces of pie. Even though she had taken two or perhaps three bites, it seemed like she was just idling now with the pie. Her apatite gone and her eyes staring at the slice. She wasn't sure if she should bring up the stuff that Sel still had in storage and she figured she'd probably have to go through the appropriate channels to even get them to Sarresh. Though it gnawed at her.

"From what I hear... You and Sel were more than just a fling. While I probably shouldn't be saying this... There are still some personal effects of her in storage, which... I think you should have. Since you were the closest thing to next of kin to her on this ship." she whispered, making sure nobody would overhear them. She looked back up to Sarresh, gauging his reaction as he could easily just sign her up for this infraction. How pain, sorrow and grief could drive a person of the rails.

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #7 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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Fishing up some of the beans, and a bit of the diced tomato between two wedges of pita bread, Sarresh watched as his dining companion took in all that he had said. Leaning that she had joined the crew - or perhaps it might have been better to say, thats she had been stuck aboard the [i[Theurgy[/i] when the ship had encountered the Cayuga during the time that he'd been stuck with the Savi - helped narrow down what he could reasonably expect the young woman to know. First hand experience at least, if not the wildly running rumors that the crew liked to circulate, traveling at speeds greater than most warp engines could manage. Somethings were universal, gossip being chief among them.

Really, it had to be more than a bit to process but she seemed to take to it well enough, and even managed to crack a smile, which Sarresh found he appreciated that morning. She seemed amused at his self stylized moniker, and was quite pleased to meet 'Frankenstein'. He laughed at that, catching himself by surprise. "Most people consider me gruff company at best. Still, it is nice to make your acquaintance, Kythalie Benmual."

He tried her name on for size, hoping he managed to pronounce it properly. As far as alien names went, it was nice enough, he decided. He'd clearly managed to intrigue her with what he'd said, and as he popped another half of a hardboiled egg into his mouth, he could hardly blame her. It was a fascinating story, if one looked at it from a remove, and had not been forced to live through each and every painful moment. Sarresh's tale since he'd returned to this century was as fanciful as the reports out of the 23rd century of the USS Intrepid being destroyed by a space Amoeba, or the Enterprise having a showdown with an ancient Earth deity. Though now that he thought of it, that one happened quite a few times, and really, he couldn't throw any stones considering the Ishtar entity that the Theurgy had encountered. 

Kythalie enjoyed a few bites of her pie before they pressed on, with Sarresh setting aside his woolgathering over historical contemporaries to his own strange encounters. Far too many people had similar stories to his own when it came to the Borg. "The Borg are a blight upon the galaxy. The only thing worse than the Borg would be if one of the infested had managed to get themselves assimilated and taken over the Collective."

A part of him wanted to tell the other woman that the sacrifices that day had spared trillions of lives and dozens of worlds from devastation. Of course he now no longer knew how the Borg would be dealt with. Someone was going to have to go wake up the Caeliar gestalt, he surmised, but he doubted that would be his cross to bear. The sad truth of it all was, he couldn't tell her about the future that almost was, and had been changed in the Azure nebula. And even if he had been able to, it would not have done anything to lessen the pain. 

After all, such knowledge did little to ease the loss of Ryuan Sel. Only time was doing that, and even then, it was slow. 

"No matter how you win against the Borg you still lose something. Someone always pays when they crop up, and every victory seems Pyrrhic when its a victory over the Collective." He rolled his coffee cup between two hands before sipping the bitter brew. In hindsight he was grateful that she waited for him to set the mug down before she delivered her own photon torpedo's. 

Sarresh went as still as it was possible for a human to do, his eyes slightly wide, eyebrows riding high on his forehead. There was a slight tremor in his left hand, which curled to a fist and then release, the only sign that he was not suddenly transfixed in place, as if frozen by a neural inhibitor. He had thought that what meager possessions Sel owned had been in her quarters, and he'd helped clean those out, in the wake of the attacks. He had been grieving, and swept it all into a box. She had a blanket over one of her chairs, something hand woven from 'home', that now sat over a chair in his quarters. A few trinkets. He'd remembered thinking that it was too few things to sum up a lost life as burning bright as hers had been. 

Why did you never check storage? Or records? Talk to the quartermaster? You just overrode the security lock out and...you idiot. He took in a sharp breath and let it out between clenched teeth, shutting his eyes for a moment and forcing himself through some exercises he'd picked up from one of his few friends. It took a moment for the racing heart in his chest to slow, and his nerves to come into some semblance of control, but when he spoke, there was a rough edge in his voice. 

"We never put it into words," he repeated, "Probably because we both have - had - serious attachment issues. Too much bad luck between us to be comfortable voicing everything, but...we were more than a casual fling. So much more." Pain bled out of him, dripping onto the table, a miasma of loss and loneliness seeming to fume out of every pore of his being. He pushed his plate toward the center of the table and leaned back in his chair, raking his hair away from his face with both hands and staring up the vine covered transparent wall that looked over the arboretum proper. There were small, yellow and blue flowers along the tops of the vines, and he fixated on them for a moment as he came to terms with the new revelation. 

"She has no real family that she'd want anything sent to. Her parents...well, she grew up in the later years of the Occupation. By the time Cardassia withdrew, she'd not seen her parents for years and according to her, they never reconnected. She saw herself as removed from most of her people. A loner. Heh, well, almost one, there was me," he admitted, an empty laugh slipping out. 

"I...thank you for letting me know. I would like to look through what is left. Do...something with it, even if that just ends up being a transfer from her storage block to my own. I have a few things she had left in her quarters...I ended up cleaning that myself. I think we were all too busy with fleeing through the Transwarp corridor and the aftermath for anyone to stop me." He shot her an apologetic look, "I probably shouldn't have said that, given that you worked with her. Security and all. Ooops."

Sarresh wasn't terribly worried about repercussions. Too much had been taken from him for the man to really care about some simple punishment. Besides, she likely should not have told him about the items in storage to begin with, so they were on even footing. A conspiracy of mourning, he thought, with another gallows grin. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the knowledge, painful as it was going to be, looking through more shadows of a life lost and the reflections of what might have been.

A thought crossed his, and his pensive look became one of awkward sympathy, as he turned, taking up his cup again for the warmth against his palms, and leaning in over the table, elbows perched on the edge. "Your friend - did he leave things behind? Are you the only one there to care for him? If so I'm sorry. I'm sure this conversation is digging up as many bones for you as it is for me. Even if that's supposed to be cathartic, according to all the less than subtle hints the counseling department likes to make in their weekly crew briefings."

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #8 –
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Sarresh felt like something fresh, despite his self image of being gruff company according to others. Kythalie looked at him as he ate his eggs and she fiddled on with her pie. When he laughed a little, she couldn't help but reciprocate the emotion, laughing softly herself before her eyes looked into his as he spoke about the Borg. It somewhat fascinated her perhaps that he had been from a different future, though she mostly appreciated the fact that he didn't put the big picture into view. She knew any victory over the Borg came with losses though it always was for the greater good. Though right now, for him and her, it didn't really feel like a victory at all considering the losses they suffered. Personally. She didn't reply to it and simply gave a nod of acknowledgment as she ate a bit more, the pie tasting delicious, though somehow it felt like she was eating sand.

She wasn't exactly sure how Sarresh would react to the news of Sel's things in storage. Her eyes watched him intently as he seemed shocked. Perhaps she was wrong to gash open the healing wound that he had suffered. Though if she were in his shoes, she'd most definitely be appreciative if one were to offer up the personal belongings of a loved one. While she could try and read Sarresh's body language, she could easily pry into his mind to see what was going on. This however would be a privilege she'd not use without consent. It would be a violation in so many ways.

Thus instead, Kythalie kept looking at Sarresh as he let the shock settle in, noticing the slight tremor, seeing the pain it might've caused by just bringing it up. He spoke eventually and Kythalie watched his every move and listened to every word he shared with her. She followed his look to the ceiling, noticing the flowers for the very first time perhaps now that she was actually paying attention to them.

His apology and confession came not long after and she shook her head. The frizzly brown curls following her movements as she gestured that it was okay. "I might not be on duty, but given the circumstances, I think I'd let it slip just this once." she murmured to him "Besides, given your rank, I'm sure you could pull a few strings to make it go away should there be any charges." She looked away from the flowers and shoved her plate with the pie aside before she let out a soft sigh. The true crime lay with her though, informing him about it. It was a risky move to make to an officer, especially one that was grieving.

She was thanked though and Kythalie gave a light smile of her own before she was addressed by Sarresh, an inquiry about her own lost friend. Kythalie looked back at Sarresh as he leaned in and looked at her. She shrugged and shook her head "I... I don't know. I was a friend, nothing as... Solid as you had with..." she paused and cleared her throat "I'm sure he left some things behind, though I haven't had the courage nor the right to go and check for them. Perhaps there was someone he was closer with, I can't be sure." she answered him and moved her hand to the back of her neck to massage the tensing muscles.

She took a look around them and sighed softly, a tired sigh, perhaps one holding more significance than just that "I cared for him though. So.. Yes, talking about him hurts. I rarely talk about him though... I'm sorry for tearing up old wounds for you as well. It perhaps wasn't my intention, nor the brightest of ideas to inform you about all of this." she apologized, despite having opened this can of worms herself.

She took her own brew in her hands now and looked into it before taking a sip from it "Though I would like to thank you for this. It's been far too long since I've had a... conversation with anyone really." she admitted as she let the mochaccino tease her tasting buds and let the flavor sink in. 

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #9 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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Processing everything was going to be the task of days, not minutes, and Sarresh was distantly cognizant of that fact as he tried his best to keep himself collected and calm. No point in breaking down in the middle of his breakfast, even if he no longer quite felt like eating. Which was a shame - the replicator had done an excellent job on those beans, but his appetite had faded. The bitter coffee at least, he still drank. That seemed somehow fitting, somehow appropriate, and he savored the warmth of the dark brew. Yes, he normally preferred tea, but this morning, the unadulterated bean juice seemed most fitting. Serendipitous of him, he supposed.

Still, he somehow had the sense to at least ask after the other woman, and if what she was bringing to his attention was having any impact on her. It was...not quite out of character, but more, something that was a new and conscious effort on his part to be 'more personable.' A challenge for him by all accounts. He'd certainly stuck his foot in his mouth plenty, but others had - surprisingly - been there for him in the wake of the loss of Sel, so oughtn't he do the same for this person? Besides the nature of the conversation itself, Kythalie herself was proving to be pleasing company. She certainly had a nice laugh. He thought he might enjoy having her around now and again - provided they didn't always dwell on the negative aspects of the recent events. 

Which meant nothing immediately of course, as they were in fact specifically in each others company to dwell on the negative past. It was enough to give him a headache, and at the same time make him grateful that he was not in the counseling department. Despite his efforts today he imagined he'd be right shit at it.

He didn't bother to correct her assumption that his rank would get him off the hook if she brought it up to her superiors. Sarresh figured it would be a 50/50 toss up, depending on whom she told. Ida Z'Wann, who had been there when he'd taken the bad news, and battled through much at his side aboard the Savi ship, might let him off the hook. He didn't know her boss though, had barely any interactions with them, and was the focal point of a cult that had wrecked merry havoc on the ship. On that front, Sarresh didn't like his odds.

As she rubbed her neck, he leaned forward again. They'd both lost their apatite, he felt, but he still cradled the warmth of the mug. Idly thinking that he might pour himself another cup, he focused on her face, his multicolored eyes darting about, taking in every feature, noting each point of pain, or worry, knowing that at one point or another those same emotions had been mirrored on his face. A small, sympathetic smile graced his own face, unpracticed as he was with that notion. 

"Whatever she had left would have just remained untouched in a storage locker if you hadn't told me. She really didn't have anyone else. Even as painful as that thought is, I do still appreciate knowing. I'll certainly make sure the contents end up in my possession." He gestured with his hand toward her, palm turned upward. "And you're welcome. Though I could say the same for myself. I don't get out of my lab much, mostly by choice. I don't talk to many people either. Debatable if that is by choice. This," he wagged his fingers back and forth between the two of them. "is nice, and I wouldn't mind doing more of this at some point. Perhaps on brighter subjects, and not after visiting the memorial wall downstairs."

A few people had gone out of their way to make him feel like he wasn't entirely alone in the world. Hearing from her that she had been something of a loner herself, and inferring (correctly or not) that she'd been that way since coming aboard the Theurgy had spurred him on to offer to her the same support he'd been given.

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #10 –
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Memorial wall | Deck 21 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus

Sipping a few more time of her warm drink, the Betazoid continued to look over at the human in front of her. Both their appetites' gone after the conclusion of this conversation and perhaps it did sort of defeat the purpose of grabbing a bite after visiting the memorial wall. However, that didn't mean that all was lost. Kythalie had managed to make contact with someone else. A person who perhaps understood the pain and grief she was feeling. A person she could talk freely about without being judged.

Sarresh spoke that he'd obtain the contents in the storage locker and Kythalie simply nodded, leaving it over to him how he might procure the items. He seemed to isolate himself, just as she did. Though he did surprise her as he told her that this interaction between them was something he'd like to do more often. Kythalie's eyes stared back towards Sarresh and she settled a bit more into her seat. She took a few seconds, observing Sarresh before she flashed him a faint smile.

"Brighter topics of conversation couldn't hurt." She answered him and leaned forward lightly "I did enjoy the company, despite the bitter feeling our current conversations hold. I guess, I'm trying to say... I wouldn't mind doing this more often either."  she answered him and emptied her mug. "Just let me know when or where you'd like to meet again."
 

Re: DAY 4 [0800 hrs.] Grieving socialization

Reply #11 –
[ Lt (jg) Sarresh Morali | Arboretum Cafe | Deck 20 | Vector 03| USS Theurgy] Attn: @Nolan 
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Sarresh couldn't say for sure if he surprised his unexpected dining companion or not, by offering to see them again at some point. He had no expectations of her, or what such an encounter might like, but things had worked pretty good for him the last time someone had taken a chance on him. And if nothing else, they had shared misery as a foundation for a working relationship, friendship, whatever would come. He nodded again, smiling softly in turn, matching her own. He seemed to have pleased her with the offer, and she made a stipulation of her own, which he found sensible in the extreme. A little chuckle worked its way up as he raised his now empty mug in a mock salute. 

"Agreed. I'm certain we can find other things less likely to make either of us want to crawl up under the covers and hide for a day or three. But that goes with the territory of striking up a chat at a memorial." Despite the newly discovered information about Sel's affects, and all the painful wound's that was certain to reopen for the former Ash'reem, he didn't feel bad about having opened up a bit to the security officer. Sure, the non-com hadn't had an easy go of the conversation either, but they both seemed inclined to try another chat on for size in the future, and on brighter subjects. 

Surely we have to have something else in common, that isn't morbid, he decided with no real evidence to back him up. 

"In that case, I'll reach out to you sometime in the next few days, most likely. Provided we don't suddenly end up in yet another massive space battle. Odds are in our favor, I think," he noted, tempting fate as he stood and tugged his jacket back into place. "Until then, Petty Officer." And with that, he took her leave of the intriguing woman, to allow her to wrap up her day, as he started his, bracing himself to go find and empty a storage locker without express authorization.

-FIN-
 
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