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Topic: EPIL: S [D06|1700] The Calm After the Storm (Read 60 times) previous topic - next topic

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EPIL: S [D06|1700] The Calm After the Storm
[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Anybody
It was so surreal to Meony. She actually barely remembered any and all events leading up to right then, since leaving the ship in the Sassy Slayer to meet unidentified bogeys, which turned out to be Martok and a force of Klingon fighters. She had been informed that Martok was now allied, or at the least, aware of the truth of Theurgy's plight. So that was good. Klingons were difficult allies at the best of times. She knew better than some, considering that Old Man Jedediah was once a formidable ambassador to the Klingon empire and taught her most of what she knew. Khorin's mother was also an ambassador to them, which resulted in his birth. She had been told that she'd left almost immediately after the surgery and waking up, with the sentient bioweapon in her head safely removed.

She tried to get into the dogfight. She wasn't sure what she was thinking, if she was at all, and then she witnessed the death of one James Mariner and F'Rell, the latter dying at the hands of a flight deck crewman, a result of a panicked reaction. Meony had gone utterly mental and assaulted him, very nearly turning his own rifle against him, before a combination of Carrigan Trent's efforts to calm her and her going into catatonic shock had her sent back to sickbay for proper recovery and monitoring of further malfunctions. Whether she'd be cleared for flight duty anytime soon was almost in question, and then she had to sit through a stern lecture from a security officer about her conduct. She was let off surprisingly easy, given her condition and state of mind at the time, but still, she could expect harsher judgement if she fouled up now, when all her faculties were straight and confirmed so by a doctor.

Chucking on her hat, a long sleeved white shirt and ancient styled blue jeans and boots, she left for the turbolifts to find company.

"Dehk twenty-aight." said Meony.

"Destination unknown," came the soothing voice of Thea, "Please try again."

"Oh fer fahk's sake! DECK! TWENTIH! ATE!"

The turbolift began to move and Meony scowled at the speakers for a long time. So her ongoing feud with turbolifts was doomed to continue.

When she was in the beloved lounge, she was a little disappointed to see there was hardly anyone around. Was she early? Were people just sleeping? Maybe doing other things? Granted, she walked by a gaping hole that gave her a fine view of the stars on the way here, so, it stood to reason some people, unlike her, probably had more important priorities than coming to Below Decks to laze around. Well that wasn't going to stop ol' Meony! No sirree!

Where was the eloquent cat-man? Didn't matter, "Howdy," said Meony, greeting the first thing that looked remotely like a bartender, "Ah wanna get wasted...wait...nah, Ah wanna get utterly destroahed and possibly sent into a coma. Gimme somethin' deadly an' most definitely illegal."

A shot glass was soon placed in front of her, with the bartender looking at her expectantly. Meony's face and angle remained transfixed on the glass as she spoke, "Are ya kiddin' me? Gimme moah."

The shot glass was upgraded to a whiskey tumblr, and Meony said, "Biggah."

A full sized beer stein.

"Do Ah even need to tell ya?"

She was given the damn bottle.

"Oh mah Gawd, will ya take this baby away an' jus' bring me its parents? That's plurahl!"

Two kegs was placed before her, and a positively miffed bartender walked away. "Now we're talkin'. 'Ey, you!"

Meony adjusted her hat to slant down one side, pointed at people, then jerked a thumb at the kegs, "C'mon, don't leave a gal t' celebrate bein' alahv alone. Ah done gone an' did th' hard part, least y'all can do is help me drink it!"

Mugs on trays appeared near the bar, courtesy of the bartender.
  • Last Edit: April 13, 2019, 01:48:20 AM by Triage

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1700] The Calm After the Storm
Reply #1
[ Ltjg Jhozahosh "Blizzard" sh'Avhennes | Personal Quarters → Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ]


After leaving the fighter assault bay some hours earlier, Jhozahosh had sought out an operations officer and had finally been directed to her assigned quarters. After a quick sonic shower to wash away anything she may have missed while cleaning in the fighter assault bay showers, she collapsed onto the bed and quickly fell asleep.

Some hours later she awoke, feeling well rested and energized. She stretched, and stumbled back into her bathroom, flicking the shower on, this time using the water setting. She stepped in and gave a happy sigh as the cold water flowed across her body. As the water poured down on her head Jhoza slowly began to undo her braids. She had been wearing them in the same way ever since she had left the Dauntless, what felt like a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes she snapped the water off and stepped out, quickly drying herself off. Moving to the replicator she ordered a skirted version of the TacCONN uniform, along with a pair of boots and one of the cool hoodies that she had seen some of her fellow pilots wearing. She pulled it all on, then stood in front of her mirror and spent several minutes re-braiding her hair in a new design. Once she felt her hair looked good she grinned to herself in the mirror, then flipped up the hood...and cursed. While the replicator had taken into account the fact that she was Andorian, the holes it had put in the hood were too small, and squeezed her antennae uncomfortably.

She removed the hoodie and picked up her Ushaan-tor. Delicately, she used one of the points to cut the fabric and make the holes larger. Once she was satisfied she pulled the hoodie back on, and flipped the hood up again. Much better. Experimentally her antennae ran through a range of motions, and she nodded, this was good.

Ready to go now, Jhoza stepped out her door and started off down the hall. Not really sure where she was going she eventually found herself in a turbolift. "Umm...take me to the crew lounge please." The turbolift began to move and Jhoza leaned casually against the wall. The journey was short, and when the lift arrived and the doors opened, Jhoza could see the doors to the crew lounge at the end of the corridor. She pushed off the wall and sauntered down the corridor. As she pushed the doors open she heard a woman with a strong accent calling out to the room.

"C'mon, don't leave a gal t' celebrate bein' alahv alone. Ah done gone an' did th' hard part, least y'all can do is help me drink it!"

This sounded like a woman she would get along well with. Her antennae focused on the lady with the big hat, and Jhoza followed them, striding forward. She wore a grin as she pulled up a seat at the bar beside the hat lady. "I like the sound of what you're offering Hat Lady." Jhoza picked up one of the mugs and helped herself to the nearest keg. "No better way to celebrate a successful mission than with a few drinks and good company." She raised her now full mug in salute, then knocked back a large mouthful of it. "Ahhh, that hits the spot. What exactly are we drinking anyway?"
Vivian Martin
Jhozahosh sh'Avhennes

  • Numen
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Re: EPIL: S [D06|1700] The Calm After the Storm
Reply #2
[ Khorin, son of Margon, of House Mo'Kai | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy | In transit to Aldea]
Att: @Triage @The Ostrich @anyone else present

"Deck twenty-eight" rumbled Khorin once he got into the turbolift.

The pilot had just left Mickayla Macgregor on her own. He was unclear whether his attempts to cheer her up and make her feel at home at the Theurgy had served any purpose. He was fond of the woman, but she was stubborn and grumpy like an old targ. One of those animals that has survived a thousand battles, smelly and full of scars, but which you still couldn't help yourself to appreciate them. In spite of their extravagances and their tendency to bite the hand that fed them.

However, in those moments he needed a rest. And learn what had happened during his trip in the Versant, and where were his pack mates. He had visited the Pilots lounge but he had found it empty. One of the FAB engineers had informed him that the pack had met at noon, while he was still in the brig. After that, he had tried to contact the Alpha Wolf, but the pilot had been unable to locate him. The first time he had been untraceable. Then, in the next attempts, he had been in a conference with the rest of the Senior Staff. The Klingon had sent him a few messages requesting a meeting as soon as possible. Barely five or six windows. Enough to make Razor aware that he was alive and wanted to report where he had been, what had happened since he was aboard and his desire to be able to get back on a bird as soon as possible. There was a good chance that when the security report reached the Bossman he would decide grounded him for weeks, and Khorin wanted to give him his version of events before that happened.

The pilot let out a frustrated snort and put on the hood of the sweatshirt over the ridged head again. He didn't want to be stuck on the ground. He wanted to fly again, to feel the controls of a fighter under his hands. Back to normality. The turbolift doors opened in front of him and the Lone Wolf let his steps lead him to the place where he could most easily gather information. The below decks lounge.

He entered the bar with determined steps, looking for any known face he could approach. Unfortunately, the establishment was practically empty, only a couple of small groups who seemed to mind their own business and a couple of women at the counter who seemed to be gatering much of the booze that was being served at that hour. One of the women wore a sweatshirt like his, and the pair of blue antennas that  poked out the top of her hood marking her as an Andorian. Maybe she was Terror. Or Aria. In any case it was a wolf comrade and Khorin was glad to see it. Whoever she was.

As his steps moved toward the bar, his eyes moved toward the other woman. She wore a characteristic hat. One that brought back memories for the Klingon. Memories of someone he had not seen in years.

"C'mon, don't leave a gal t' celebrate bein' alahv alone. Ah done gone an' did th' hard part, least y'all can do is help me drink it!" exclaimed the redheaded woman, her thick accent almost impossible to decode.

Khorin stopped his long strides for a moment. It was impossible. Was it really her? By all the heads that Kahless cut off, how was it possible?

"No better way to celebrate a successful mission than with a few drinks and good company."  said the Andorian woman by her side, before drinking a long gulp from her mug. "Ahhh, that hits the spot. What exactly are we drinking anyway?"  Khorin had a pretty good idea of what it was.

He passed through the tables area like an exhalation, sweeping away any unsuspecting person who dared to come between him and his target. "What you have just drunk" he yelled, approaching the two women and posing two hands like two bear paws on their shoulders. ""It is a mixture of rotgut, swine's piss and bad intentions that will make you end up entangled in some diplomatic mess with a bellicose foreign nation,"he barked in a sinister tone, despite the broad smile etched on his bearded face.

Now, close to both of them, he could see that it was indeed her. Without waiting for the human to say anything to defend herself, he surrounded the small woman with both arms pressing her back tightly against his broad chest, letting her feet hang limply a half metre over the floorplates. The hat fell from the woman's head, leaving her friend's reddish mane visible. "Fucking crazy bitch, damn troblemaking hoe, I thought you were dead Tancredi!!" he roared happily, trying to ignore the knot that grew in his throat.
  • Last Edit: April 21, 2019, 11:19:00 PM by Numen

Re: EPIL: S [D06|1700] The Calm After the Storm
Reply #3
[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen & @The Ostrich
Never fails! was Meony's proud thought when an Andorian woman responded to her invitation. Some of the other patrons merely piped up and smiled expectantly at her. Everybody knew Meony usually knew how to party. She certainly showed that the few times she'd been around after being brought on board. Aside from the last day or so where she'd been fighting the ever-worsening bioweapon that had been growing in her head. But now that it was out, she was more or less back to full capacity, and ready to start living again.

The Andorian took a mug and filled it from the keg. She had good least she thought until she tried it herself. "Oh fuck!" it was absolutely horrid, and terrible, and therefore, perfection. She laughed and grinned at the Andorian woman, "Ah'm Meony..."

She was not able to finish whatever else she was about to say when a familiar voice bellowed, resting a heavy hand on her slender shoulder, she tilted her head to get a confirmation on the fact that it was him. Khorin Douglas, in the flesh. He was also quoting events from their past. Except she remembered how it went a little differently. That was not all that was different. The ridges on his head were more pronounced, and he looked more...that was impossible. What happened to him?!? Her mouth hung agape as she stared stupidly at him.

"HWAH!" was all she managed before he crushed her against him, and her eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. He was all but screaming into her ears and she was kicking wildly to no avail, her hat fell off and she was struggling to breathe, or survive. "Ah'll...soon be!" Meony wheezed, "...if ya don't...let...go!"

Mercifully, she was soon released, and she bent down to pick up her hat and put it back on. "Khorin, whot in tarnation are ya doin' 'ere?!? 'ow come Ah never saw ya 'fore all this?!?" She looked up at him, doing her best Heather Douglas impression, and somehow gave the impression that she was looking downwards when she was in fact craning her neck all the way to meet his eyes. "God Ah've missed ya!"

She broke into a big smile and leapt into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and just hanging on there. "So ya better be married already, or so 'elp me..." she said into his ear as she slid back to the ground and looked up at him again.