Incommunicado – A taste of the local culture.
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
ON:
As the turbolift arrived on the Promenade Relma opened his eyes wide. It had been a whirlwind of activity in the last couple of days. The past 60 hours had seen him come face-to-face with an Admiral, his new Commanding Officer, and one of his colleagues, and most importantly the giant ring which he would now call home, all of which had gone well enough. What hadn't gone so well was a rather exasperating meeting with the Executive Officer. Although he knew he had an early start in the morning and much to be getting on with, upon returning to his quarters an hour previously he had found himself far too awake to even attempt going to bed and far too agitated to get on with his reading. He had finished his unpacking, played with and fed Jolan, and done almost everything he could think of to calm himself down. Thus, he decided to explore his new home by going for a walk.
That had brought him here, to the Promenade of the station. Just like the medical facilities he had seen earlier, though, it was a far cry from the dingy Cardassian design of a Nor class station. This was open, light, and absolutely massive in its scale. As he wandered, gazing at the various venues, he was amazed by how diverse the area was and just how much choice there was to be had. After a few minutes he came to a large map and registry of the Promenade. He scanned it with his eyes and quickly noticed a pattern. The level he was on was dominated by shops, the level above had bars and restaurants, and the top level appeared to be a miniature Bajor. He figured he would treat that as his goal and make his way there, exploring as he went.
At the next staircase he ascended to the second level. It was much busier and he followed the crowd: most of whom headed towards the turbolift at the next junction. The remainder, however, continued on, seemingly with a purpose. Meryn followed them to a large cut-away section of wall where he saw a bright sign which read "Box of Delights". Moving closer to the entrance Relma saw a vibrant venue beyond, with mood-lighting, a very well-stocked bar, and he could hear the unmistakable rattle of dabo wheels and clink of tongo tables. His mind immediately thought back to Quark's on Deep Space Nine, but this place looked a million-bricks of gold-pressed latinum in comparison. Moving inside, slowly, he used the moment to take stock of the environment. Keeping his eyes on the distance he didn't keep his eyes on where he was going and managed to walk straight into a tray of drinks - and the person carrying them.
"Careful, sweetie!" The speaker had a rich contralto, that made him look up.
And Up.
She was one of the tallest women her had ever met; women his own height were unusual, and with shoes on she cleared him by a good three inches. He couldn't pin her species. Her skin was the colour of summer lilac, and her hair a deeper shade of the sameShe'd managed to swing the tray so the drinks didn't end on the floor, but they wobbled precariously. "These are better in you than on you."
"Oh my!" spluttered Meryn as he tried to avoid making the situation worse "I'm so sorry Madam. I wasn't looking where I was going." Pausing to catch his breath for a moment "Good stop. I was worried for a moment there I'd be paying for the whole tray."
"Lots of practise," she dismissed the save quickly. "Blake, table 12." She stopped a passing waiter, a young human that was painfully attractively, and passed the tray off to him. "what about you? Are you okay?"
Relma straightened his tunic and drew himself to his full height - still somewhat taken aback by the woman and her commanding presence and his own less than dignified introduction to her. "Oh yes. I'm fine thank you, Madam, I was just admiring the view. This is quite an establishment; my compliments to the owner."
"Why thank you," before his eyes the lilac hues of her body turned blue. "welcome to the box of delights, my not so humble establishment."
Meryn almost had to bite his tongue to stop his jaw from hitting the floor. "Oh..." he began "Thank you. That's quite a trick, if you don't mind me saying, Madam. How do you..."
"Madam?, you make me sound like my mother!" She swiveled around him in order to guide him to the bar. "not a trick, just biology. She steered him onto a stool. "now, what's your poison. Everything here is the genuine non replicated article, right down to the ice." She gave a theatric gesture to the wall of bottles stacked behind her. "Everything and anything you could possibly want."
Relma was disoriented enough by the whole experience so far and before he knew it found himself parked on a bar stool - as if moved there by some hurricane or other force of nature. The woman reminded him of his sisters: the authority of Harena, the tenacity of Lupa, and the compassion of Malia all rolled into one - a potent combination. "Oh, err...." he began as he tried to get his bearings and spot a familiar bottle among the hundreds or even thousands "sorry err... Miss?" Given he had never seen a member of her species before he found it very difficult to judge her age, but he got the impression she was younger than him by some way. He studied the bottles for a moment: he had not been much of a drinker since the death of General Borath, but given her explicitly-expressed disdain for all things replicated - and how bad an impression he imagined he must have already made - he felt that asking for a synthale would be a major error.
She looked at his hesitation, and laughed, "I know that look. It's says you've got so used to getting the non-stop alcoholic version of whatever you drink you've forgotten that there are drinks that don't have it naturally. Here, try this," she set a glass in front of him and retrieved a bottle and a box from below the counter. Cold air curled up delicately from the box. "new on the station?" She asked as dark brown liquid chugged into the glass.
The aroma from the bottle immediately hit Meryn's nostrils. It was sweet, but without the naturally bitter bite of alcohol. It almost smelt like Kava-liquer - with a hint of Jumja, but obviously wasn't. He looked up to the woman, whose face had an almost devilish grin playing on it. "Oh, thank you. And yes, Mada... I mean Miss, I arrived only a few hours ago. Is it that obvious?" He added the final sentence with a wry smile playing across his face. As first impressions went this one had been disastrous - worse than he'd even feared his meeting with the admiral could have gone. Looking back down at the glass, then up again at his host, he raised an eyebrow and asked "What's this? It almost smells Bajoran, but I've never seen anything like it before."
"I see that look a, lot. People spending days, weeks even, in a shuttle and then suddenly dumped on board, and the first thing they see is this place, can startle you a bit." She capped the bottle and opened the box. Brilliant white ice cream gleamed in the ultra violet light. "it's a Cola, technically, but the plants are from all over, made by a collective on Risa. Absolutely no alcohol." A flick of the wrist dropped a scoop of ice cream into it. "there you go," she pushed the fizzing drink over to him.
"Thank you, Miss, and yes... yes it can be quite a shock to the system. My cat has taken a very dim view of the situation and has been asleep ever since I finished unpacking." said the Bajoran as he raised the cold concoction to his lips. It wasn't like anything he'd ever tasted and, while not unpleasant, was extremely sweet - too much for his palette - and the fizziness was a very odd sensation. It was more violent than the slow-bubbling of synthale. The closest he'd ever come was the Earth drink champagne, but even that was different somehow. Having swallowed he allowed the sensation to fade for a moment he smiled and said, politely, "Wow well that's... err... that's very different, Miss. 'Co-la', did you say it was called?" He paused to take another sip. Already he got the sense that before he'd even got halfway down the glass the immense sweetness would become overpowering and for that reason mentally cursed himself for not ordering something simple like an Andorian ale, or a scotch, or something, anything with a real flavour and not just a wave of sugars, but true to form he'd grin and bare it, though he already knew what he'd order to wash the taste away after.
"Technically its a cola float. You're not the first boy who hasn't wanted to drink alcohol. I make them for quite a few of the pilots."
Before she could continue, an attractive brunette, a Risan clan marking between her brows stepped up to the bar and read off a padd, "Two Kanar, a Red Nebula, an Event Horizon and a Bajoran Braindeath," She turned away, noticed Relma, and gave him a lewd grin, "hey honey," she turned back to the Bartender. "And can you mix a Singapore Sling?"
"Do Klingon's shit in the woods?" The tall woman replied. "Give me ten minutes."
TBC...
OFF:
Chief Warrant Officer First Class Relma Meryn
Chief Operations Officer
Yolanthe Ibalin
Civilian, Owner of the Box of Delights
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
| Title | A taste of the local culture. | |
| Mission | Incommunicado | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin | |
| Posted | Sun Jun 10, 2012 @ 1:02am | |
| Location | SD57, 2100 hours. | |
| Timeline | The Box of Delights, Promenade Level 2. |
As the turbolift arrived on the Promenade Relma opened his eyes wide. It had been a whirlwind of activity in the last couple of days. The past 60 hours had seen him come face-to-face with an Admiral, his new Commanding Officer, and one of his colleagues, and most importantly the giant ring which he would now call home, all of which had gone well enough. What hadn't gone so well was a rather exasperating meeting with the Executive Officer. Although he knew he had an early start in the morning and much to be getting on with, upon returning to his quarters an hour previously he had found himself far too awake to even attempt going to bed and far too agitated to get on with his reading. He had finished his unpacking, played with and fed Jolan, and done almost everything he could think of to calm himself down. Thus, he decided to explore his new home by going for a walk.
That had brought him here, to the Promenade of the station. Just like the medical facilities he had seen earlier, though, it was a far cry from the dingy Cardassian design of a Nor class station. This was open, light, and absolutely massive in its scale. As he wandered, gazing at the various venues, he was amazed by how diverse the area was and just how much choice there was to be had. After a few minutes he came to a large map and registry of the Promenade. He scanned it with his eyes and quickly noticed a pattern. The level he was on was dominated by shops, the level above had bars and restaurants, and the top level appeared to be a miniature Bajor. He figured he would treat that as his goal and make his way there, exploring as he went.
At the next staircase he ascended to the second level. It was much busier and he followed the crowd: most of whom headed towards the turbolift at the next junction. The remainder, however, continued on, seemingly with a purpose. Meryn followed them to a large cut-away section of wall where he saw a bright sign which read "Box of Delights". Moving closer to the entrance Relma saw a vibrant venue beyond, with mood-lighting, a very well-stocked bar, and he could hear the unmistakable rattle of dabo wheels and clink of tongo tables. His mind immediately thought back to Quark's on Deep Space Nine, but this place looked a million-bricks of gold-pressed latinum in comparison. Moving inside, slowly, he used the moment to take stock of the environment. Keeping his eyes on the distance he didn't keep his eyes on where he was going and managed to walk straight into a tray of drinks - and the person carrying them.
"Careful, sweetie!" The speaker had a rich contralto, that made him look up.
And Up.
She was one of the tallest women her had ever met; women his own height were unusual, and with shoes on she cleared him by a good three inches. He couldn't pin her species. Her skin was the colour of summer lilac, and her hair a deeper shade of the sameShe'd managed to swing the tray so the drinks didn't end on the floor, but they wobbled precariously. "These are better in you than on you."
"Oh my!" spluttered Meryn as he tried to avoid making the situation worse "I'm so sorry Madam. I wasn't looking where I was going." Pausing to catch his breath for a moment "Good stop. I was worried for a moment there I'd be paying for the whole tray."
"Lots of practise," she dismissed the save quickly. "Blake, table 12." She stopped a passing waiter, a young human that was painfully attractively, and passed the tray off to him. "what about you? Are you okay?"
Relma straightened his tunic and drew himself to his full height - still somewhat taken aback by the woman and her commanding presence and his own less than dignified introduction to her. "Oh yes. I'm fine thank you, Madam, I was just admiring the view. This is quite an establishment; my compliments to the owner."
"Why thank you," before his eyes the lilac hues of her body turned blue. "welcome to the box of delights, my not so humble establishment."
Meryn almost had to bite his tongue to stop his jaw from hitting the floor. "Oh..." he began "Thank you. That's quite a trick, if you don't mind me saying, Madam. How do you..."
"Madam?, you make me sound like my mother!" She swiveled around him in order to guide him to the bar. "not a trick, just biology. She steered him onto a stool. "now, what's your poison. Everything here is the genuine non replicated article, right down to the ice." She gave a theatric gesture to the wall of bottles stacked behind her. "Everything and anything you could possibly want."
Relma was disoriented enough by the whole experience so far and before he knew it found himself parked on a bar stool - as if moved there by some hurricane or other force of nature. The woman reminded him of his sisters: the authority of Harena, the tenacity of Lupa, and the compassion of Malia all rolled into one - a potent combination. "Oh, err...." he began as he tried to get his bearings and spot a familiar bottle among the hundreds or even thousands "sorry err... Miss?" Given he had never seen a member of her species before he found it very difficult to judge her age, but he got the impression she was younger than him by some way. He studied the bottles for a moment: he had not been much of a drinker since the death of General Borath, but given her explicitly-expressed disdain for all things replicated - and how bad an impression he imagined he must have already made - he felt that asking for a synthale would be a major error.
She looked at his hesitation, and laughed, "I know that look. It's says you've got so used to getting the non-stop alcoholic version of whatever you drink you've forgotten that there are drinks that don't have it naturally. Here, try this," she set a glass in front of him and retrieved a bottle and a box from below the counter. Cold air curled up delicately from the box. "new on the station?" She asked as dark brown liquid chugged into the glass.
The aroma from the bottle immediately hit Meryn's nostrils. It was sweet, but without the naturally bitter bite of alcohol. It almost smelt like Kava-liquer - with a hint of Jumja, but obviously wasn't. He looked up to the woman, whose face had an almost devilish grin playing on it. "Oh, thank you. And yes, Mada... I mean Miss, I arrived only a few hours ago. Is it that obvious?" He added the final sentence with a wry smile playing across his face. As first impressions went this one had been disastrous - worse than he'd even feared his meeting with the admiral could have gone. Looking back down at the glass, then up again at his host, he raised an eyebrow and asked "What's this? It almost smells Bajoran, but I've never seen anything like it before."
"I see that look a, lot. People spending days, weeks even, in a shuttle and then suddenly dumped on board, and the first thing they see is this place, can startle you a bit." She capped the bottle and opened the box. Brilliant white ice cream gleamed in the ultra violet light. "it's a Cola, technically, but the plants are from all over, made by a collective on Risa. Absolutely no alcohol." A flick of the wrist dropped a scoop of ice cream into it. "there you go," she pushed the fizzing drink over to him.
"Thank you, Miss, and yes... yes it can be quite a shock to the system. My cat has taken a very dim view of the situation and has been asleep ever since I finished unpacking." said the Bajoran as he raised the cold concoction to his lips. It wasn't like anything he'd ever tasted and, while not unpleasant, was extremely sweet - too much for his palette - and the fizziness was a very odd sensation. It was more violent than the slow-bubbling of synthale. The closest he'd ever come was the Earth drink champagne, but even that was different somehow. Having swallowed he allowed the sensation to fade for a moment he smiled and said, politely, "Wow well that's... err... that's very different, Miss. 'Co-la', did you say it was called?" He paused to take another sip. Already he got the sense that before he'd even got halfway down the glass the immense sweetness would become overpowering and for that reason mentally cursed himself for not ordering something simple like an Andorian ale, or a scotch, or something, anything with a real flavour and not just a wave of sugars, but true to form he'd grin and bare it, though he already knew what he'd order to wash the taste away after.
"Technically its a cola float. You're not the first boy who hasn't wanted to drink alcohol. I make them for quite a few of the pilots."
Before she could continue, an attractive brunette, a Risan clan marking between her brows stepped up to the bar and read off a padd, "Two Kanar, a Red Nebula, an Event Horizon and a Bajoran Braindeath," She turned away, noticed Relma, and gave him a lewd grin, "hey honey," she turned back to the Bartender. "And can you mix a Singapore Sling?"
"Do Klingon's shit in the woods?" The tall woman replied. "Give me ten minutes."
TBC...
OFF:
Chief Warrant Officer First Class Relma Meryn
Chief Operations Officer
Yolanthe Ibalin
Civilian, Owner of the Box of Delights