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Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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Whether Stellan found himself wandering through copious distant lands as Papageno, falling in love with the Queen of the Night’s daughter - holding court in the magic woodlands of ancient Greece as Oberon, King of the Fairies – floating down the Mississippi with Huck Finn on a ramshackle raft, with straws dangling from their lips – or pursuing a libertine life of varied amoral experiences as Shk’shee, after selling his sole to the devil, in Betazoid poems … it was hard to mistake him for a lover of the mundane. After all, his mother had always tried to take him away from the acid swamps of reality, as a child, and transport him to the meadows of literary delight. But he had never taken to the bland stories of caterpillars and comatose princesses. Very early on she had found that he only got his intellect engaged in things that challenged him. His mind like a black hole that needed constant sustenance and didn’t even notice the occasional planet or moon, but rather dealt in galaxies and dust clouds. All part of the genetic modifications he had undergone, on behest of his father, to make him smarter, more in touch with the Betazoid values of his heritage.

So, time of his life, the man had left no ancient classic unread, no poem unmemorized, no traditional music unswaying his mind, which had crossed his path. His cognizance, as well as his shelves, his cupboards and closets, were filled with the tokens of that licentious devouring of artistic ether. Leaving behind empty husks of knowledge and muse, like a spider sucking out its prey. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional vice, that the man indulged in, which others wouldn’t consider ‘deep’ on an intellectual level. But just as a S’oka beetle could be unassuming on the outside, the Betazoid tundra spider could still derive a rather nutritious lunch from it. And so were many of the man’s rather obscure fancies. Especially those that did not adhere to matters of propagation rooted in ancient tradition, like paper-printed books, vinyl disc engraved with soundwaves, or rolls of parchment with inscriptions of literary gold. No, sometimes modern technology could infuse an added sense of realism to history’s most proficient works, that fantasy just couldn’t replicate. Not always.

Which had led Stellan to holodeck 02, this one furtive night, in pursuit of photonic manifestations, like wraiths born from thin air. His mind had just been a jumble lately, with all the strong emotions on the telepathic ether like a meteor shower of nerves burning up in the atmosphere of desperation and angst. Ever since he had been taken off the ice, he’d found it harder to shut the voices out, burdened with the impressions and mementos from when he was under. So, in a way, he was not only dealing with the demons of the present, but also those of the past. There was only one sure fire way he knew how to shut the enchanting whispers of despondency up, or at least mute them to a bearable level, and that was adding voices to the mix that were just that more enthralling. Angel’s hymns, from an era long passed, so at least it could pass in some manner for ‘classic’. Which eased his mind already to no end, as he entered into the abyss, watching reality spring to life around him at a simple behest.

Building from photons and forcefields was a darkly lit stadium, spotlights at the stage, the ranks basket in daim obscurity. A jumble of flamboyant colors in the set-dressing, protagonists in showy outfits, mirroring their individual personalities. Moving down the rows of empty chairs, as the scene was still frozen in time like a memory, Stellan slipped into a trail of seats, plucking himself down precisely in the middle. A space from where his peripheral vision framed the platform perfectly. Letting gravity settle him into the soft cushions, gentle wiggles moving across his physique like a dance, the man relaxed with a content sigh, expelling whatever terrors he still held within his ribcage. Letting the faintest of quiet moments sink in, as the dust seemed to settle around him, before giving the ultimate cue to let the 20th century entertainment act on stage spring to life as if marionettes, awaking from mystical slumber. They were his favorite from the period … by a long shot.

The spotlights rotated in on the five women, each one arm erected into the sky, as they shifted into their eclectic dance moves, drawing a complacent smile on the man’s face, as the lyrics began to be belted out, each singer taking one line making it her own in tone and demeanor.

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Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs] Spice up your Life

Reply #1 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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The holodeck had always been a place of escape and bliss for Cameron. Just days prior, she’d paraded the shores of ancient Greece with Lorad. Before that, she’d sung at the bar with Salem Martin. Her free time had been largely absorbed by her duties, and the other various projects aboard the ship, to keep her mind from idling, and drifting into the abyss that had brought her down so frequently. An abyss that truthfully, she hadn’t felt the presence of since that horrifying night on Aldea. Her dreams still brought with them the harsh reminder of what she’d nearly done, for a second time.

That night, she’d dressed herself in the flamboyant and famous garb of the women of the 1920’s. It had thin lace straps, which let the dress sink down to show off what was likely more of her chest than the era really would have permitted, but she’d liked it. The dress was black, with sequins lining each layer of the fabric as it draped down her torso, shining a subtle light off the gown in reaction to the lighting of the ship. The gown came to the middle of her thighs, and then split into thinner strips of silk, flowing down to just above her knees. Beneath the gown, she wore silk stockings, held with garters that sat just about where the gown itself rested. To match the dress, she’d donned black high-heels, with a strap that came across her ankle, with an additional strip of leather that ran down the middle of her foot, before connecting to the array of felted leather that covered her toes. Her lips were painted red, her cheeks blushed to match. Her eye makeup was as flashy as could be, glittering in the light. Her arms were covered with long gloves and she paraded down the halls of Theurgy shamelessly, likely eliciting a glance or two but no count it was obvious where she was heading. Her small handbag had that little flask in it, filled to the brim with some of the remaining tequila she’d gained during her incursion on Aldea.

Performance and music had been critical to her relaxation. Often, she’d find herself on the holodeck in an empty bar, playing the piano and singing a sorrowful tune to herself, or sitting in her quarters with an acoustic resting on her legs as she strummed the melody to a classic old earth tune, or even a Vulcan meditation chime. In music, and in the theatrics that came with music, she found a peace she struggled to find in few other activities. Across her lips, was a look of sheer excitement and anticipation for the night of raucous activity that would shake and rumble the walls of the holographic speakeasy she’d found, buried in the archives of the ship. She hadn’t a clue who’d made it or put it there, but she planned to put it to good use. She had a small chip with further data for her night of fun, and planned to play the two together, seamlessly letting her dance the night and her worries away.

When she approached the panel outside the holodeck though, her brow furrowed and she tapped the screen once. A program was already running. She let the bag fall down to her wrist, and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. Did I mix up the times?

A few more taps on the screen, and she’d seen the error. Someway, somehow...it had been double-booked. “No, no, no.” She muttered before letting out another angry sounding groan. She tapped one final key, and the door opened, allowing her entry into whatever was running. She paused as she took her first step inside, knowing full well what sort of depraved nookie she may have wandered her way into. She was fully prepared to come face-to-face with a naked Ferengi in any case, she’d been looking forward to her music all day. To her surprise however, she’d discovered that instead, it was a large stadium. A large stadium which was hauntingly devoid of attendants...save for one. Her eyes narrowed on the figure, a look of curious wonder splattered across her features before she heard the first words…

"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want
So tell me what you want, what you really, really want
I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want ..."

She blinked, and quickly dashed her eyes from the stage to the man in the audience. Her head tilted to one side, a quizzical habit akin to that seen in a curious Labrador. Slowly she approached the row he had planted himself in, watching his reaction to the piece as it unfolded around her, the lights flashing and lancing themselves across the photonic projections of the five women. She’d heard them before, usually at a drug or alcohol ridden party at the academy, the other female cadets belting out the lyrics as if they were biblical scripture. For an old band, their popularity had certainly persisted to a certain level. Cam, much to her own self-humiliation, mouthed along with the lyrics.

Eventually, she found herself about 3 chairs to the left of him, and slowly settled herself into a seat, giving him a quick glance before turning her attention back to the show. In truth, it was as flamboyant and exciting as she hoped her own show would have been, so said nothing throughout the song, though she did give him the occasional glance to ascertain if she’d been spotted or not, which wouldn’t be overly difficult given the utter emptiness of the stadium.

At the end of the song, she gave herself away, clapping to the music, as her head slowly turned towards the man, and she gave him an awkward grin.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs] Spice up your Life

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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Stellan gingerly slipped down into the warm comfort of his chair, while his muscles relaxed, as if melting into the warm sentiment of distraction, like a cube of sugar into hot tea. And just vice versa, the absurdity of the show on display, the moment was dissolving its sweet allure into the strong acrimony that was his mental state. Tiny crystals breaking into molecules, until there was no easy telling where one ended and the other started. That’s how much he was going up in the mundanity of this admittedly awkward display. That’s how much he had needed to just escape the cold reality of which he was reminded with every stray thought, every random emotion, he picked up walking the decks of Theurgy. It was all washed away by straightforward lyrics and catchy melodies, paired with invigorating beats. Not a challenge for the mind, or balm for the soul, but exactly what the doctor had ordered, in its invigorating simplicity. Of course, it also helped that the people he was focusing on, these five plucky women, didn’t have thoughts and feelings of their own, that he had to dodge.

Jolted eventually from such saccharine dreams, at behest of the subtle stirrings the pew produced, the man’s muscles tensioned with that primal impulse of not falling from a tall tree, while slipping into a comforting slumber. Clasping his hands tightly to the precipice of his seat’s armrests, the man – stiff as a board – switched his obsidian pools over to the woman just a few seats to his side. Transfixing the pinholes in his eyes on her, before letting his glance switched around the scene for a moment, as his mind tried to fathom whether she was a program malfunction or an actual human being. It was not until he became partial master of his own skills once more, did he realize her gentle thoughts on the telepathic ether. Sentiments virtually mirroring his own, to the point where he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d been projecting it on her instead. A virtue he sometimes used deliberately, to lift someone’s spirit, or – in the case of his sister – wanted them to feel purposely bad. But there was always a distinct vibrance on original thought. Like a Starfleet authentication token, sent alongside important transmissions.

But that revelation was entirely different shock, to realizing he wasn’t alone. This was a living, breathing individual, with their won sets of judgments and opinions. Many of which surely would be passed on this embarrassing tableau. Thus ,jerking up in his chair, sitting more straight, the man cleared his throat from the drying kelp disposed by the receding tide of conscience, before addressing the omnipresent conscience in the air. “Thea, freeze program.” He instructed, his voice still grating against sharp edges of delicate seaweed. And as the intelligence did follow the request, the room was befallen with a deafening sense of silence, that cast reverberations of his own pulse, into his ears, alongside the ever-increasing voices he picked up upon, once more. “Hi.” he decided to put forth, as a token of appeasement, to the influx of demons from all around him. “You … lost?” and while trying to sound as little accusatory as possible, the man was painfully aware of how rude the implication could come across as. “I am real …” he added nonsensically, even placing a palm flat on his chest to drive the asinine point. “I mean … this is my session.” Which only bore the realization that this was likely the dumbest admission he could’ve given in the context. All in a conversation that seemed doomed from the get-go.

Yet, ultimately, they were united in a mutual sense of awkwardness as a delicate grin sprung from the pretty blonde’s lips, right onto his, like an ember in withered underbrush. 

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs] Spice up your Life

Reply #3 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Cam continued to stare awkwardly at Stellan, brown eyes cemented against him as a look of audacious mirth. The look quickly vanished from her features, realizing his shock and supposed horror at her appearance. It did have to be jarring, to be partaking in such a colorful performance and a random woman from the crew appeared. She likely wouldn’t be too pleased if her own program had been stumbled into by one awaiting a Klingon duel with their holodeck time. She brought her palms up, in a ‘surrendering’ pose, albeit a weak one. “Sorry.” He scrunched her features in clear embarrassment and some remorse over showing up. She brushed her palms against the silky feeling gown at her thighs and cleared her throat.

“Ensign Henshaw. Yeoman. Ah-” She pursed her lips and flushed, “Cam’s fine though.” She broke her gaze away from him and towards the frozen phantoms that lined the stage, lights shining down on them. “Not lost, no.” She motioned over her outfit, “I think there was a scheduling mixup, I was supposed to have holodeck time now as well. You can continue though, it’s not a problem. I will admit though…I do like your choice.”

She rose to her feet, leaning over some of the seats ahead of her. “Spice girls, right?” She smirked as she turned her head, fast enough to make her own hair swat her cheek. “Nineteen…eighties? Nineties?” She shrugged before turning to fully face him. “Did you…make the program?” Her eyes lit up with an excited fury, her body itself moving with newfound speed and drowning out the uncomfortable, awkward grin she’d had on her face. She sat down right next to him.

Immediately though, she backed off.

Her own sense of overexcitement had gotten the better of her, for a split second. It was something she often recognized, but there were times that it took her over completely. A new way of experiencing musical history, had ignited the fire. Clearing her throat, she apologized, cheeks red, “Sorry.”

Instead, she sat up a bit straighter and offered her hand out to him, “I don’t think I know your name either.” Likely she’d seen it on a roster somewhere, but by no means was she capable of knowing all the faces on board, and matching them to their respective Starfleet crewmember. Hazel eyes fell to his collar, noting the color and rank in place on his uniform. She reached into her handbag and produced the small flask, flashing a smirk at him, brown eyes displaying a glint of mischief with the glance. She spun the cap off, took a sip, then offered it over to the man.

“Peace offering for crashing the party? You do drink, don’t you?” She looked momentarily horrified, as if she’d offered a drink to a drunk or something of the sort. Though still clearly present, her social awkwardness was slowly waning. She didn’t have many comrades among the crew, and the idea of making new ones terrified her in a sense. Every moment with someone, was another shred of her that could be peeled away. Her mental stability had spent the better part of a year in a precarious state, and it wasn’t something she relished sharing among the crew that relied on her ability to perform.

“And I’ll reschedule, let you enjoy your show. Have some…roster reports or something I can double check.” In truth, she intended to head anywhere but towards a pile of work. She didn't immediately go one her way though.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs] Spice up your Life

Reply #4 –
[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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There probably weren’t many individuals, as intrinsically aware of the contrasting varieties in which sentient life asserted itself spiritually, as Stellan. For his understanding of how people worked was literally a good fraction profounder than skin-deep. Yet he appreciated the concept in line with the Vulcan philosophy of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. Something the authors of the phrase could really work on grasping, actually. To that end, he wasn’t surprised that this pretty blonde reacted in a way he wouldn’t have necessarily gone. In all likelihood he would’ve just turned on his heel with an awkward look on his face, leaving without a word. But he also wasn’t exactly known to be a flamboyant social animal, despite his astute skill in ‘reading’ people.

As a matter of fact, her acknowledgment of his clarification stood in stark contrast of her subsequent actions. Which he had to admit was somewhat intriguing. But it also made the tips of his ears burn with the heat of a welding iron. His obsidian orbs fell to her silky gown, as it gingerly draped over her thigh like an ethereal nebula over gravitational eddies. “I … um …” he stuttered, his eyes flicking back at hers so fast he almost got whiplash in their sockets. “Hi, Ensign Henshaw … Cam, I mean.” He clarified, not quite master of all his senses yet. Chief among them his confidence. That was currently cowering in a corner somewhere after the shock of not only being startled but caught in a rather compromising session.

For a moment he just took refuge in her eyes, like plunging into a calm cove under a crescent moon, the cozy warmth of a tropical night around him like a soft blanket. It afforded the man’s mind the momentary refuge he always needed to adapt to any given situation. Since surprise wasn’t really something a telepath like him was ever very familiar with, being able to interpret all the telltale signs of an impending ambush quite aptly, usually. It was even more so embarrassing that a band comprised of colorfully dressed women with odd hairdos from earth’s history had been the cause for his inability to sense impending doom from yards away. Not that Cam seemed to harbor any ill-intentions. He wasn’t a gazelle at the watering hole, and she didn’t seem to be an alligator.

“Uh, yeah!” Stellan’s voice resounded. Reassurance and charm returning to his chiseled features, as his pate switched to the stage for a moment, his body relaxing into the seat once more, like dough into a tray. “Not quite sure, late 20th century seems like a safe bet.” He subsequently chuckled, as tension melted away, and dark eyes met hers once more, now with a distinct glimmer of delight. They followed her all the way down and into the seat next to him, a veil of sweet roses wafting past him as if a ghostly apparition, out to seduce him into the afterlife. But the shift that followed confused him, slightly, as his mind rather quickly wrapped around the trepidations in her mind like a boa. “It’s quite alright … and no, I bought it from a merchant on earth … London, actually. Seemed to be part of that distinct cultural heritage.” He joked calmly, trying to ease her worries through the simple measure of distraction.

“It’s Stellan … just Stellan.” he finally presented himself, hoping that levelling the playing field would pose as the final inch of approach to put her at ease. All while harkening back to her original introduction in an ironic way. Reaching out his warm hand for good measure, physical contact via social gestures usually familiarized strangers even more. Yet he could hide the precarious measure with which his thick brows rose, as the woman produced a flask from her thin garb. Something he had not seen coming, neither optical nor telepathically. Man … he really seemed to be off his game here. Intent on blaming the distraction on the five frozen gals on stage, he wasn’t able to fully deny Cam any key element in all of that. Maybe the offering would help to ease his nerves.

“Like a fish.” he replied with a chuckle, accepting her ‘gift’ generously. Dipping back his pate the man let a small amount of the savory treat trickle down his throat with a fiery trail of delight. Prompting a relaxed exhale he brushed the back of his hand past thin lips, before handing the flask back to the blonde. “Nonsense …” he protested towards her last proposition. Showering the entire concept with ridicule, almost. “The flask is more than welcome … and so are you, by extension.” he added in jest. A lop-sided grin and boyish glimmer to obsidian orbs driving forth the notion. Shuffling a little bit in his seat to turn his physique gently towards her, Stellan leaned casually on the armrest between them.

“So … you’re a fan too?” Which was a safe guess, he assumed. This particular group was just a little bit too obscure to be random knowledge.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #5 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw |Holodeck 02| Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Cam had been dying for a night of flapper revelry, but she wouldn’t say no to the spice girls. The jaunty and poppy tunes had carried her through many a night during her time at the academy, and though she received her fair share of ribbing for enjoying the classical earth band, she hadn’t much cared at the time. However, it had been years since she’d even heard one of their songs, and the shock of seeing just who was watching was part of what had kept her standing there in the holodeck instead of finding some other activity.

Cam didn’t miss the glance that had gone over her gown, in fact she’d worn the gown for that very reason. She’d wanted to draw a bit of attention to herself. Truthfully, she’d expected attention from the holographic men of her program but there was something a bit more exciting from receiving the once over from a flesh and blood man. She rolled back and forth briefly from her heels to her toes before she stopped moving, finding more of a sense of her own confidence instead of a flamboyant show of her arrival. Allowing the man a more honest look at who she actually was.

Cam briefly looked up at the stage, and ogled one of the outfits being worn and an idea struck her…causing a more mischievous grin to sprawl across her face as she moved a bit closer to Stellan. “Thea can you project something a bit more…suitable to this era for me? Perhaps something…green?” And in a flash her garb had been replaced, at least visually, to something that made her fit in a bit more. She had changed from the flapped into the hat was practically a lime green jumpsuit, her hair straightened out to nearly razor straight, and a pair of large glasses had been stuck to her face.

“Better I think.” She inspected herself and even kicked her back foot up into the air to check her footwear for good measure.

She eventually reseated herself beside him. The anxiousness that she’d exhibited slowly began to ebb away, and instead a friendliness began to take hold. Cam had been in a state that was nothing short of abject loneliness for some time, and each moment she was able to have to simply enjoy herself in the presence of others, was a moment she intended to take advantage of, wether she knew the individual well or not.

“That tracks.” Usually some of the shows we’d go see were in London. There was this massive Holoprojection theater in Greenwich…I think. Maybe it was Croydon? Either way, they put on these massive events a few times a year. Spice girls. The Beatles. Was quite fun, everyone dressed up and just…escaped for an evening. No Starfleet no phasers none of it…just some old music and likeminded people.” She smirked, Londoners held onto every shred of their history.

She took his hand and gave it a solid shake. Likely, the grip was a bit stronger than one might expect from a dainty woman such as Cam. “As do I.” She rose the glass in a light toast, “That makes two similarities. Though the level to which I enjoy tequila borders on unhealthy.” She offered him a faux, exaggerated grimace before she began to giggle.

“Glad to hear it. Yes, I’m actually a big fan. My mother used to listen to them when I was young. It just stuck with me and like I said…try to enjoy them when I can. Finding other people who know them, let alone enjoy them on a posting is easier said than done.”

She paused for a moment, “How about you, how did you discover that magic that is Spice?” She rolled her eyes at her own poor attempt at humor before she broke eye contact with Stellan, and glanced towards the stage, five figures frozen like some grotesque waxwork, the realism of the holodeck blended with the unnatural lack of movement creating a feeling akin to the uncanny valley.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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Fashion was something that Stellan only understood on a psychological level. Like an abstract effort to enhance or conceal one’s personality, by expressing it (or muffling it, respectively) through a specific style of garments. Which wasn’t even an innately human notion. Klingons literally wore their victories on their sleeves, as Romulans did their deceptions. In that regard the human fascination with clothing was far tamer and innocent. In spite of – or maybe because of – that knowledge, the man himself wasn’t really paying too much attention to what his outfit would say about him. And if it did, it would probably belt out how little he cared. Still, he wouldn’t fault anyone for doing adhering to such a notion, and if he wasn’t a telepath, he’d probably appreciate the non-verbal giveaways as well.

But despite not really wondering what garbs would best match his deep black eyes, Stellan still had a sense of aesthetics he could not shake. Probably groomed by growing up surrounded with the most renowned prodigies in literature and art, at his mother’s behest. Which was why the ultimately materializing lime-green jumpsuit struck him like proverbial lightning, in contrast to Cam’s previously more subdued attire. Not being aware of the trends of the time, he had always just assumed the entertainers wore some kind of costumes on stage. Not that people actually took to the streets dressed like crayons. But he wasn’t going to say anything on it. Because he also knew that – as much as an outfit could be an extension of the soul – it could also be quite as fragile.

“Tacky music and booze … match made in heaven.” the man mused suavely; bottom lip drawn in mischievously in a boyish smirk, as obsidian eyes trailed between the flask and those larimar eyes, before settling back on the frozen stage. “Yeah …” he continued, sucking in a dramatic measure of air through ivory teeth. Holding the breath a little longer than necessary, before expelling it with the continuation of the statement. “… quite the touch of fate, I have to agree.” Looking back over at his newfound holo-companion, the man smiled warmly, dark eyes glimmering with the embers of delight. And if he didn’t have the gift of sensing deceit from a mile away, he might’ve been questioning the sincerity with which the pretty woman proclaimed her fancies. But even then, one didn’t question kind company.

Gazing back at the stage, letting out a content sigh at the somewhat pleasurable memories, Stellan sunk a little deeper into his seat. The silent room filling with anticipation, as he dragged on the eventual narration, like a skilled storyteller. “I was visiting Notting Hill one time, while studying on earth … Portobello Road Market, I believe. Like a maze of exhilarating colorful fabrics and exotic scents – not unlike yourself.” Night-skies casting an impish sideways glance if only for a moment. “There was this old man, tucked away on the stoop of an old brick house, selling holo programs from way back then, when people were still interested in the more obscure parts of history, beyond wars and historical events, I guess. And well, it was the most colorful cartridge in the bunch.”

Stellan shrugged with an idle chuckle, acknowledging the missing sense of revelation, to his story. It wasn’t like he was given the program by his great grandmother, on her deathbed, who used to be an archivist in the musical hall of fame, saving it from some kind of devious, anti-pop regime, by sheltering it in a hidden compartment at her home. No, his life was not penned by Ernest Hemingway.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #7 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw |Holodeck 02| Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Cam crossed her legs and got a bit more comfortable in her chair, which, she had overestimated the comfort of to begin with. However, she understood that the mild discomfort brought on by the chairs was likely meant to pressure the audience to stand, and to take part in the act more than simply sitting there as if it was the London Opera. Despite the discomfort, she felt absolutely enthralled in the holographic show. While the green suit may certainly not have been clothing she'd have worn under normal circumstances, wearing it added to the flavor of the program, and was after all, just for fun, as much as the flapper outfit she'd had on just before was to be for her own program.

Cam briefly looked Stellan over, utilizing the tips she'd received during her time as a counselor, trying to size him up, get a feeling on him. She wasn't able to ascertain much however. "Don't forget the tacky outfits and uncomfortable stadium seating." She playfully wagged a finger and gestured to the row of chairs directly in front of them. She met his eyes, and her cheeks very briefly gained a hint more of color before her eyes turned again to the stage. "So do you enjoy most classical music then?" Her head canted slightly and she turned her eyes back upon him. She had been entirely honest with him since she'd arrived. There hadn't been a reason to lie. Among all the tumultuous events of the past several months, Cam had learned to not refuse a gift when it presented itself, and friendship was a gift that didn't often present itself to Cameron Henshaw. She'd found the past several months to largely be a lonely affair, intermixed with the attentions of a select few, but true friendships, bound by like interests felt as though they'd avoided her entirely.

Cam chortled, and nodded. Of course it was the most colorful of the bunch. "It's unfortunate that the most popular parts of history are always the most violent parts. If I wanted to find a holo of World War One on Earth, I imagine I wouldn't have to look very hard. If I want to find a holo of Sammy Davis Junior I'll struggle a great deal more. Not to say that usually after each war there wasn't a period of...renaissance per-se, arts and sciences progressing greatly as a consequence of the changes wrought to the world." Though, she stopped herself. It was a line of thinking that was a bit too dark for casual conversation at a Spice Girls concert.

"Have you ever listened to Brittney Spears? She's another old Earth artist. Sort of similar I think to Spice Girls, she's a solo act though. When I was doing a summer residency one semester in Kent, my instructor Counselor...Oh hell-" She thought for a moment and then burst into laughter, "He was this Bolian, I cannot for the life of me remember his bloody name." She could hardly keep a straight face, "But my first meeting with him was walking into his office, fresh out of my pediatric rotation, and this fat Bolian is in his office singing along to this woman. It was absolutely ridiculous." Slowly her face started to contort to a more serious expression and she scoffed, "He was a good teacher though."

"So-" She questioned, thinking for a moment, "Where did you grow up, if I may ask?" She was just curious.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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There was a lot about this mimicry of the late 20th century that Stellan didn’t understand. Be it the fashion, the fact that people actually traveled a considerable distance – at the time – to see something that was just impactful now, that these five ladies had long turned to dust. But much like the enthralling ecstasy of space travel, this particular communal experience probably had to be shared with about a thousand likeminded individuals. A crowd that for a couple of hours became one in their appreciation for the show presented. No matter their backgrounds and differences. Hell maybe, the Federation and the Dominion should’ve gone to a Spice Girls concert together.

Talk about a theory he never thought he’d conceive in his mind.

“All part of the unique experience.” The man replied, words lined with the unabashed rumble of chuckled glee. Obsidian orbs fell observantly on the pretty blonde, just as she averted her gaze in a delightful fit of self-conscious diffidence. His own unwavering shine, however, remained upon her like the light of the moon, in a deep dark night. “Why did you do that just now?” he inquired with the sensible delicateness off an asteroid, striking the picturesque metaphor, he had only just set up. Leave it to Stellan Foster to turn everything into a flaming hell.

“I mean, so brazenly dashing forward, and then recoiling back into your shell.” the counselor specified more closely. Apparently, it was impossible to leave his observant nature at home, given that it was what had even brought him into the service of psychology: The constant need to abstract a person’s behavior. Despite of that, however, he gladly gave into the embrace of rekindled conversation, with the multi-faceted woman. “Is this considered ‘classic’?” he queried with a puzzled expression on his face, that contorted handsome features into a somewhat cute display of humorous disdain.

“I certainly feel like earth’s history has more to offer in terms of diverse musical specialties than contemporary human art.” he explained, letting charcoal hues linger back on the contrasting colorful display, frozen in time before them. “Is there even such a thing still? Human art? I feel like as a species they’ve evolved more into considering their science to be some form of virtuosity, replacing both traditional art and religion. Which used to be a big motor for the development of culture, wasn’t it?” Sure, his grasp of half his heritage’s history was feeble, to the point where he didn’t even consider himself to be a full-fledged member of the species.

“Well …” Stellan looked back at her with a casual smile. “I guess you could consider war as an art form. The Klingons certainly seem to think so.” He chuckled light-heartedly at the topical reference on the situation they were in. Or had been, just days ago. But even given this small excursion into the darker chapters on record, Cam managed to steer the conversation back towards a more elate pasture. “Nope …” the man pondered, biting the inside of his lip as caliginous ponds momentarily sought to find proof of his statement in the dark skies of memory. “… can’t say I have.”

Readjusting his seating stance, a little, the man soon gave the blonde a more intrigued glimmer of appraisal. “I didn’t know I had a fellow counselor next to me … an education I am sure comes in handy dealing with our two captains.” he stated, joshing her a little. All in good fun, of course, but that kind of approach usually teased out a little bit of deeper insight, if only on the telepathic ether.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #9 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw | Holodeck 02| Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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The reasoning for Cam’s tell-tale recoiling back into herself, was complicated and that much would likely be evident to Stellan, given the pause, which for the briefest of moments, could have been described as uncomfortable, pregnant, or even monumentous. She had found so very few aboard that she was able to share what had for most of Cameron’s life, had been considered the ‘dangerous’ part of her. The part that rose and crashed like the most powerful of waves found in Nazare. The mighty peaks of her emotion had given root to her most creative, imaginative, and precocious thought. When they crashed into the surface however, she risked not only herself drowning in the malevolent depths, but bringing all those who congregated around her down with her as well. She was always on guard, policing her own emotions for the signs that a swell was nearing. There were so few that knew of her affliction, and she wanted to keep it that way.

As well, she understood that Stellan was a counselor, and like her, was trained to eventually recognize the signs.

Signs just like the one she’d given with her rambling. She had once read that, “There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness.” There was nothing truer. When it suddenly became so easy to speak, as if all the right words were just suddenly there, she did her best to stop herself in her tracks. As for her explanation however…

“I-“ She momentarily stumbled, but quickly found footing, “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I can be a lot, would rather not ruin the show with my rambling.” Not that her explanation truly gave her much ground to stand on should he inquire further, but she chose instead to bite into the new path the conversation had taken. She turned her eyes, the stage lights causing them to appear as a burnt-sienna, and focused her attention on the counselor. Her lip quirked briefly and she shrugged, “I would certainly consider it classic for me at the very least.” She couldn’t think of anyone in her family in memorable history even having been able to have glimpsed the spice girls. Whatever the cutoff to consider something ‘classic’ though, she didn’t know.

“Of course there is more to offer, but I’d argue that the Spice Girls were just as influential on the culture of the time as…Van Gough, even.” Within certain circles, she knew such a statement was tantamount to heresy but she believed it to her core. “Now though, I do think you’re right. There are certainly artists that are human but Earth hasn’t been home to only a single sentient species since first contact. Since then it’s developed into this…breathtaking melting pot. Now, if I go into a club I’m just as likely to hear a song from Trill as I am from Los Angeles. I don’t think Science has entirely replaced the drive that artists have to create either, if science truly had replaced all art and religion I wager we’d be a rather dull species. There is after all a science to most forms of art, how to deliver a line, how to play the strings just right on a guitar, where exactly to press the brush to canvas and how hard one presses, there is a science to it all.” She sounded for a moment as if she’d bought the Starfleet pitch - hook, line, and sinker. There was little further from the truth.

“I don’t believe war is a form of art.” Her look darkened for a moment, before she regained the courage to speak up again, still marking each word, and trying her hardest not to ramble. “War has in the past, created the collective experience that ignites an artistic renaissance. At least in Earth history. For instance, after World War Two, there was a massive shift culturally, there were loads of children being born, and music began to turn from the ‘proper’ to ‘risqué’”

“She’s brilliant!” Cam exclaimed, eyes momentarily igniting. “It’s different than this, a one woman show but she knows how to perform for a crowd.”

She chortled, allowing herself to be momentarily a bit more open with him. Given the challenges that both of them understood being a counselor entailed, she couldn’t help but find humor in what he’d said. “It most certainly has. Though truthfully, I wish I’d had a bit more experience in it, I’m sure it would have come in greater handy than I’d managed to use it up to now.” Would she have been able to prevent anything horrible that had happened? Likely not, but there was always a maybe involved in her mind. If nothing else, it likely would have spared her some pain if she’d have leaned on her training, instead of her emotions when it came to the good Captain. She blinked a few times then questioned, “Did you always want to do counseling?” It was a question she’d asked herself, and in truth…she didn’t know how to answer it. She was good at it, but she didn’t particularly enjoy it, she’d jumped at the chance to become yeoman instead.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Foster | Holodeck 02 | Deck 08| Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BipSpoon
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The momentary excursions from the shackles of reality, into the realm of blissful pondering, was as welcome as a trip down the Mississippi river with Huck Finn, a hunt on the good ol’ Pequod, or a romantic stroll down the streets of St. Petersburgh during the Russian Empire … blurring the lines between history and fiction. A notion belying a distinct intentionality, with which it pervaded the fabric of conscious thought. The basic human notion of escaping discomfort and imminent threat, by retreating into the foxhole of imagination. Even if this mirage was a figment of a reality long passed.

The notion of ruining the show through rambling was as ironic as the continuing conversation masking it. In blank facts, all they did so far was ruining the show by rambling, for the better part of the program, still being suspended mid refrain. But such self-reflection had no place in a court of law where the general verdict was that they both enjoyed the rambling. The brief excursion into the martial history of earth aside, Stellan could honestly say he was entertained by the blonde yeoman more so than he had been by the quintet of plucky singstresses.

As such, instead of dwelling on their differing views on war as an art form, he focused on the shape of culture preceding it. “A one woman show …” he mused, a mischievous smile subconsciously twisting his thin lips. In his mind he considered Cam to be as such, if he were to judge. Only in the most flattering manner possible, of course. She certainly had a measure of self-sufficient confidence and knew how to handle herself. At the same time, barely existent pores oozed a sense of charm and innocence that amalgamated into an enticing ether of attractiveness.

“Never too late to learn.” The man replied with an idle shrug. It was certainly within the realm of expectancy for a Starfleet officer to keep improving themselves professionally. And if this was an area of expertise that suited her profession – which it frankly did almost anyone dealing with people – than it would’ve been well within the line of duty to continue educating herself on the matter. “I mean, I am a horrible teacher … but if you ever needed any pointers.” He told her with a warm smile, belying the deeper realization that he knew more about manipulation than counseling, probably.

“Well …” Stellan sighed, shifting in his chair ever so lightly, as if to meld with the cushions. “… I originally studied psychology to understand people’s motivations better. Can’t say I initially did in an effort to potentially help anyone.” he once more shrugged idly, as if unsure of his own motivations. “At least not anyone else but me.” An almost self-deprecating chuckle followed, flaring pale nostrils. It was always amusing to reveal the secret of his selfish nature to someone who was not aware of it yet.

Re: Day 05 [1800 hrs.] Spice up your Life

Reply #11 –
[ Ensign Cameron Henshaw Holodeck 02 | Deck 08 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Cam allowed herself a moment of thought, a moment to simply ride the wave of spontaneity that had led her to sit down beside the man, instead of simply turning heel and retreating back to her quarters. She was glad she’d allowed the moment to seize her, instead of cutting herself off at once. Their environment still held that stranger-than-life quality that practically all frozen holograms did. It just didn't look natural. Nothing in nature stood as still as the holographic singers did, not even twitching to breath, one of them balancing on nothing but the tip of her shoe mid-movement.

Her nervousness that she was still somehow imposing, didn’t break. This was after all, his show. His show that she had hijacked by presuming to simply join him, a stranger. What had been interesting to her though, was that despite their lack of any prior interaction, just how much they did seem to share in common. Counselors were a strange breed of people, and there typically wasn’t that many of them aboard any given ship. The odds that it was a counselor that she’d wandered her way into, was a funny coincidence to the yeoman.

She watched his smile creep up ever so slightly as he mentioned one woman shows, “Yes. I mean obviously she had music and-“ She paused, letting her eyes fall directly onto the slowly forming grin. It caused a matching grin of her own to start forming, followed swiftly by a flurry of giggles that gave away her emotional state in a single go. It was a laugh that for the moment, was filled with easy-going joy.

“She was though. Absolutely brill.” She sat up a bit straighter, and tipped her head to the left.

“Pointers in reading the emotional status of our Captain?” She smirked and slowly nodded, “From time to time I think that actually would be helpful.” She knew Jien quite well, their relationship having taken the briefest of inappropriate turns before it had all changed. Her preference for the inappropriate men in her life over those more suited to her though, had not changed. Just nights ago, she’d spent the evening hiding herself away in the brig, in the arms of the man who was likely the most hated man aboard.

She blinked away the thought and rallied herself, moving back into the easy charm she tried to exude. “So if you could give me…” She leaned in a little and raised a slender finger, denoting the number ‘one’. “One tip, what would that be?” She intentionally left her question vague. What exactly she was asking for a pointer on, she left up to interpretation, a look of amorous mischief overtake her.

She listened to him, mulling over each of his words as her hand gripped the side of the chair, fingers rolling back and forth as she fidgeted with a loose screw on the armrest. “I can understand that.” She herself had partially gone into counseling, out of curiosity of her own mind. She had known there was something ‘different’ about her own psyche for as long as she could remember, but not until she’d sought education was she certain of what that was. “Most people don’t think critically about how useful psychology actually is. A lot of humanoids function on the same basic principles after all.” It was her more polite way of admitting that, she too didn’t use her skills for strictly her occupation.

Just as Cam seemed to get comfortable however, over the comm system of the holodeck was a familiar voice. It was the crewman that typically helped her with her console, and he sounded panicked. “Harris to Henshaw I’m sorry to interrupt I know you said you’d be busy but I could really use your help on the bridge.” He sounded outright terrified and Cam grimaced.

What on earth had he done?

Still wearing a face of annoyance she rose to her feet, “suppose I’ll have to get that answer another time. Was lovely to meet you, hope you enjoy. “ she shot him a wink and without further hesitation, headed out.

“I swear if you disconnected the-“ she started, and the doors sealed behind her.

-FIN
 
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