SIM:Andorian Blues: Difference between revisions
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<nowiki>::</nowiki> The flight from SB118 to DS26 had been a peaceful and uneventful bit of slagged time. There had been a few good conversations, a few missed opportunities, but sadly for Liani very little in the way to regret. One should never leave a ship without at least one regret- one pair of lips that might be missed and remembered in the cold corridors of a space station like this one. She had completed two circuits of the thirteenth and fourteenth floors and had finally found a spot that might provide the proper feel to the sound she was after. Truth be told it was a sound that pretty much everyone was after- that memory of a moment that you’d never touch again. She sat down in the open space between two bars- both with doors hanging open hungry for the heat and heartaches of anyone foolish enough to enter and savor that sweet tangy succor of synthohol- anything they could cry into while trying to forget who it was they were so hard trying to remember. She leaned her back against the cold wall and watched the crowd roll by- her travel clothes were just dirty enough to pass most glances- no hint of a starfleet officer here waiting for a ship to arrive. Just another person who’d lived too long on borrowed time and fried nerves. Part of her wondered if the illusion were sound enough. She smirked a bit to herself, an edgy kind of laugh slipped her lips stabbing inward instead of out. She really hated the fake, the phony- but such feelings, dirt stained self loathing- well that’s what the music wanted- that’s what the listeners wanted- that was the art of it. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her weapon of choice- a flabbjellah three times her age- bitter on the soul, hard on the bones- a real breaker of an instrument. It’s soundings were fine though, keenly tuned, well loved- her fingers caressed the edges, warmed the skin, pulled at the ancient soul of the thing- she paused in quiet reflection of her own sins before lips found place and the song krept out like the last breaths of a dying man- Terran blues mingled with Andorian harmonics- people stopped- watched- cried, some stayed while others slipped into the twin mouths of the bars- always hungry, always accepting- never weary of the trade in sorrows and souls. The song crept along causeways and down corridors- mingled with conversations and stirred hearts, stoked fires- memories walked and talked where only dust had been. She played a long while until the song had glutted itself on the sins and memories of others and slipped back into the silence of the soul. As the last sound died out she carefully slipped the instrument back into it’s cell and stood. No one moved to keep her here and she was glad to stand up and shake her legs back into action. She walked aways and then saw out the window of station that her ship had finally sailed in. She pulled out her PADD and referenced orders, quirked and eyebrow and wondered almost aloud at what happened. She had been prepared to contact a Captain Raj Blueheart- but all that had changed and now it was a Captain Dickens, well wasn’t that a dickens… she wondered how long the new captain would suffer under bad puns before lashing out. No- better to play it safe and easy- no need to stir up too much trouble on her first bit of real work. Reaching under her jacket her fingers tapped at the combadge :: | |||
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<nowiki>::</nowiki> She waited the moment it took for a reply- studying the ship she was about to call home while the moments crept by. :: | |||
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Latest revision as of 08:08, 15 May 2015
Andorian Blues
STARRING
Image | Name | Description |
---|---|---|
Liani h'Rendria lyr'Theel'zhiin | A new medical officer for the USS Atlantis- freshly arrived from SB118. | |
Marcus Dickens | Liani's new Captain |
((DS 26-Deck 14-Shopping Sector))
:: The flight from SB118 to DS26 had been a peaceful and uneventful bit of slagged time. There had been a few good conversations, a few missed opportunities, but sadly for Liani very little in the way to regret. One should never leave a ship without at least one regret- one pair of lips that might be missed and remembered in the cold corridors of a space station like this one. She had completed two circuits of the thirteenth and fourteenth floors and had finally found a spot that might provide the proper feel to the sound she was after. Truth be told it was a sound that pretty much everyone was after- that memory of a moment that you’d never touch again. She sat down in the open space between two bars- both with doors hanging open hungry for the heat and heartaches of anyone foolish enough to enter and savor that sweet tangy succor of synthohol- anything they could cry into while trying to forget who it was they were so hard trying to remember. She leaned her back against the cold wall and watched the crowd roll by- her travel clothes were just dirty enough to pass most glances- no hint of a starfleet officer here waiting for a ship to arrive. Just another person who’d lived too long on borrowed time and fried nerves. Part of her wondered if the illusion were sound enough. She smirked a bit to herself, an edgy kind of laugh slipped her lips stabbing inward instead of out. She really hated the fake, the phony- but such feelings, dirt stained self loathing- well that’s what the music wanted- that’s what the listeners wanted- that was the art of it. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her weapon of choice- a flabbjellah three times her age- bitter on the soul, hard on the bones- a real breaker of an instrument. It’s soundings were fine though, keenly tuned, well loved- her fingers caressed the edges, warmed the skin, pulled at the ancient soul of the thing- she paused in quiet reflection of her own sins before lips found place and the song krept out like the last breaths of a dying man- Terran blues mingled with Andorian harmonics- people stopped- watched- cried, some stayed while others slipped into the twin mouths of the bars- always hungry, always accepting- never weary of the trade in sorrows and souls. The song crept along causeways and down corridors- mingled with conversations and stirred hearts, stoked fires- memories walked and talked where only dust had been. She played a long while until the song had glutted itself on the sins and memories of others and slipped back into the silence of the soul. As the last sound died out she carefully slipped the instrument back into it’s cell and stood. No one moved to keep her here and she was glad to stand up and shake her legs back into action. She walked aways and then saw out the window of station that her ship had finally sailed in. She pulled out her PADD and referenced orders, quirked and eyebrow and wondered almost aloud at what happened. She had been prepared to contact a Captain Raj Blueheart- but all that had changed and now it was a Captain Dickens, well wasn’t that a dickens… she wondered how long the new captain would suffer under bad puns before lashing out. No- better to play it safe and easy- no need to stir up too much trouble on her first bit of real work. Reaching under her jacket her fingers tapped at the combadge ::
Liani: =/\= Ensign Liani h'Rhendria lyr'Theel'zhiin to Captain Marcus Dickens. =/\=
:: She waited the moment it took for a reply- studying the ship she was about to call home while the moments crept by. ::
Dickens: Response =/\= Go ahead ensign, ... what can I do for you? and don't make me call you by all your surname...=/\=
Liani: =/\= I’m your new Medical Officer sir, and Dr. Liani will be fine sir- I think the rest is pretty much just for show. =/\=
Dickens: Response =/\=Well, it's certainly a show of words. I've not read your transfer orders yet, but as you're reporting it'll be good to meet you, just not at this moment. =/\=
Liani =/\= Yes, sir. When and where should I meet you, Sir?
Dickens: Response =/\=There's an unnoficial party this night, we can meet before it, on the Atlantis Gym, 2100 hours. You don't need to be in your uniform, we're on shore leave at the moment. See you in the evening. Dickens out. =/\=
USS Atlantis FTW |
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