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Daily Logs 11-19-14
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Literature Text
I. T'Pah and Terrence appreciate each other
II. Zef and Leslie clear the air, but neither of them are really happy yet
III. Fear: Fallan and Erik get deep
IV. Molly and Leslie drink together and make decisions they'll probably regret tomorrow
V. "Us": Terrence tells Zef he's finally ready for them to be a couple
I.
Terrence: *settled in a little camp chair he brought to the arboretum, with a book on his knee. He brought an extra chair for T'Pah for their (belated) Monday literature session*
T’Pah: *enters the arboretum and walks around to find Terrence, a PADD with some literature under her arm* *finds and joins him soon* Terrence. *looks at the second chair quizzically… apparently thinks that’s more polite than just assuming it’s hers and sitting down*
Terrence: I brought a chair for you. ^_^ *gestures and bends down to pick up a teapot from a little cloth beside his chair* Tea?
T’Pah: Thank you. *takes the PADD in her hands and sits down* Yes, please.
Terrence: *pours her out a mug of tea and holds it out to her* Apple spice, perfect for fall. *grins* *is himself wearing a sweater with a burgundy background and light brown latticework over it--it's meant to look like a pie, apparently*
T’Pah: *takes the tea with a lifted eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on the tea choice* *and apparently lacks the fantasy to recognise the ‘pie’* This time I wear pants, but do not risk to wet them in an attempt to drink.
Terrence: *blinks* You...usually wear pants.
T’Pah: That is correct. I was referring to our last meeting when I was *in fact not even wearing skin* not in the mindset of understanding the idea of being clothed.
Terrence: *blinks again, then pauses, then his mouth drops open* Oh my god! You were the skeleton? That was /you/?
T’Pah: *nods* Yes, I was the skeleton. I am hesitant, however, to assent without further ado that the skeleton was me.
Terrence: *tilts his head* You think it wasn't yours? Why wouldn't it be though?
T’Pah: As I understand it, the illusion influenced our behaviour and personalities to know, think and assume what we usually wouldn’t. I therefore do not think it logical to fully identify myself with my actions as a skeleton.
Terrence: *nods slowly* I guess that's smart. *little grin* Logical. I wasn't Dr. Jekyll, after all.
T’Pah: I could not tell the difference. *pause* Dr Jekyll, as far as I know, has been perceived and portrayed very differently since his appearance by the original source. Without specific reference to one of those sources, the resulting personality would be inconsequential at best. *another pause, eyes him curiously* Did you experience any form of schizophrenia or split personality during the past two weeks?
Terrence: Not really. *shrugs* Looking back, I can see that I wasn't a perfect representation of him, and elements of myself remained, but it was cohesive rather than confusing.
T’Pah: *nods slowly* I do not connect a skeleton with any personality at all. Looking back, I do think that I might have acted a lot like myself finding out about the illogical circumstances of my own existence.
Terrence: *grins* You kinda did, now that I think about it. You were all "I would like to wear clothing so as to make it more likely the scientists will talk to me."
T’Pah: *nods* It seemed the most logical thing to do, aiming at talking to the scientists.
Terrence: *still grinning* Never change, T'Pah. Except for the normal and healthy growth and development of sentient character.
T’Pah: *lifts an eyebrow slightly* I am not planning to. It was, after all, hard work to shape my personality the way it is now.
Terrence: I'm glad you did it. I'm very fond of you.
T’Pah: I appreciate that. It often appears to me that, being Vulcan, other intelligent beings label you with either being ignorant and boring, or mistake composure for ease.
Terrence: Most people don't understand someone different than them. It takes some time, some work. *shrugs* Some people aren't willing to give that, or don't realize they ought.
T’Pah: I agree. I therefore appreciate your willingness to “give that”.
Terrence: *smiles* You're more than worth it. *so affectionate today*
T’Pah: *lifts an eyebrow, fascinated by the affection*
Terrence: *chuckles, because well, what response did he expect from her anyway?*
T’Pah: …Did we want to discuss literature today?
Terrence: Yeah, I do. *turns the book over in his hands to reveal the cover* I brought The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde...it seemed appropriate. But, ah? *glances at her questioningly*
T’Pah: *glances at the cover and is about to nod when he asks an unspecific question* Yes? *will he go on and ask an actual question, or was the question whether or not she finds the book appropriate?*
Terrence: Can we talk about something else unrelated to the book first? Well, mostly unrelated, only related by happenstance. Would you mind? You have the time?
T’Pah: *nods slowly* I do have the time and do not mind. In fact, I am rather curious. *turns to him*
Terrence: *nodnod* Okay. Right. So I got divorced six months ago... *pause* Not even quite that long. But you were there for all that.
T’Pah: *nods in acknowledgement, waiting for him to go on*
Terrence: And...you know Zef and I are close, and we spend a lot of time together, and we take care of each other. *reaches up to run a hand over his hair, the swipes his thumb past his undercut because it feels cool* A few months ago, we realized we were falling in love with each other. But it was too soon for me, I still hurt too much after the divorce. So he's waited, and I've been sorting myself.
T’Pah: *this is about emotions* *she is Vulcan* *would a human know how to respond to that? Or in which way it is related to her?* Fascinating.
Terrence: *nods in agreement, expecting such an answer from her--that's why he's talking with her* So now I think I'm there. Now when I think about dating Zef, I don't feel hurt from Molly or sad or want to spite her like I did for a while. Now I just...feel guilty.
T’Pah: *knits her brows* Guilty about what?
Terrence: I'm happy and I could be even happier with Zef, but...it doesn't seem like Molly's happy. *shakes his head* It almost seems wrong to make a decision like this when she's still not recovered.
T’Pah: *takes a few seconds to contemplate that in silence* I do not see a satisfying correlation between you refraining from being happy and her happiness.
Terrence: No, neither do I, not when I look at it objectively. We renounced our responsiblities towards each other when we broke up, that's what a divorce is.
T’Pah: *nods* As a Vulcan I may not have much insight or experience in human love relations. However, I do not believe that “sharing emotions” means the responsibility of feeling exactly the same for the exactly same amount of time. *does it?*
Terrence: *nods a bit* No. It doesn't, I guess. So...I think I should go for it. A relationship with Zef. I don't need to feel guilty anymore, Molly's life is out of my hands, it's what she wanted.
T’Pah: Perhaps. You may want to brace yourself for accusations, nevertheless. I, though, believe that the human philosophy would demand of a friend to suggest to “stand by your true feelings”. I do not think that it will add to Commander McAdams’ happiness that you make yourself unhappy. In fact, should she find out about you refraining from making yourself happy on her behalf, she might develop an urge to pretend being happy, as a result of feeling pressured to separate her own fate from yours.
Terrence: *blinks* You're--I'm, I never thought of that. You're right, she'd do exactly something like that, and then we'd both be miserable. Again.
T’Pah: *nods* Therefore I think confronting her with you moving on might give both of you a better opportunity to heal and develop a new understanding for and relationship with one another.
Terrence: *makes a small face* She seemed kinda...uncomfortable to learn that Zef and I liked each other, when I told her. I...I dunno if she wants to be told when I'm ready for a new relationship.
T’Pah: *neither do I* *small shrug* You could ask her?
Terrence: *thinks for a few moments, staring down at his own mug of tea* I...don't want her to hear through a third party or the rumor mill once Zef and I start dating. So...maybe it's best that I do tell her myself.
T’Pah: I assume she would hear about it sooner or later. Due to the nature of living in a narrow habitat.
Terrence: *small smile* She would. *takes a deep breath* Okay. So...I at least know I don't need to feel guilty. I can move on. It's okay if I do, because me and Molly's lives are separate now, it's what we both agreed to.
T’Pah: Yes.
Terrence: *nods slowly* Thanks T'Pah. I just...needed to talk it through with you to help me see it...not with my feelings in the way.
T’Pah: I live to serve.
Terrence: *laughs* And to learn.
T’Pah: *nods* Learning, however, seems to be a requirement to be of better service.
Terrence: Mm, maybe that's true. *smiles* Thanks for learning about me, T'Pah.
T’Pah: You are welcome. *picks up her PADD, that she had put down in her lab, looking at him questioningly*
Terrence: *grins* Time to learn about this Strange Case of a certain Dr. Jekyll and one Mr. Hyde?
T’Pah: *nods* By Robert Louis Stevenson. *reads from the cover* *there, she learned a thing*
Terrence: *grin gets even broader* *cracks open his book to a spot he'd marked to talk about*
[So they discussed the book and made comparisons between it and the versions Zef and Terrence turned into, and drank tea.]
II.
Leslie: *has claimed a couch on the O-Deck, stretched out on it, and intended to do constructive things, but instead managed to fall asleep with her head lolling to the side against the backrest*
Zef: *exhales when he reaches the turbolift without any notable interruptions from others, leans against the wall during the long journey upwards and sighs with relief, that wasn't too bad; enters the O-Deck soon after, carrying a PADD; wearing some comfortable civvies* … *seems empty... walks over to the couches and only now spots Leslie* …! *stops hesitatingly*
Leslie: *isn't able to hear exclamation points and remains le asleep*
Zef: *blinks and figures that she must be asleep... but he's glad to see her although she's asleep (or maybe because she's asleep, he can't tell, but in any case he's glad to see her, he missed her)* *stands watching her for a short while, undecided if to stay or go... until he forgets that he's holding a PADD* ..!! *startles when he notices it slipping off his fingers and tries to catch it... and manages eventually, but not without making some noises of muffled curses and effort – the sort of thing that happens when you /don't/ want to make any noise...*
Leslie: *Zef's fumbling alerts her to the presence of someone else, so she slowly blinks awake, starting to smile when she sees it's Zefram, then oh. It's Zefram. No smiling.* *Crap* Hey. *sits up a bit, voice still a bit sleepy, and rubs her face*
Zef: *she smiled! She smiled! Then she probably woke up fully and... but she smiled!* Hey. Erm. I was, I almost dropped this. *meaning the PADD* Sorry. *o__o; for waking you up and everything else, well probably not /everything/ else, but can't we make this right somehow...?*
Leslie: *pulls her legs closer to her, so they're bent up, and wrinkles her forehead* How long have you been standing there?
Zef: *thinks about it, but doesn't know* Not... very long. *that sounds about right* Long enough to find out if you're awake or not.
Leslie: So you weren't watching me like a creep or anything like that.
Zef: *quick headshake* No. No, I wasn't. I wouldn't. I didn't want to wake you up, but if you were awake I'd have said 'hi', so... I tried to figure that out.
Leslie: How to wake me up without waking me up. Sounds interesting.
Zef: I didn't want to wake you up... I just almost dropped my PADD. *o_o;*
Leslie: You said.
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah... *looks at said PADD* So... do you want me to go? *eyes her carefully*
Leslie: I'm not sure. *has been stalling that decision* *pauses and tilts her head* I think you can stay for now. Wanna sit?
Zef: *relieved, she didn't say no* Yeah, sure. *brief ghost of a smile, heads for a couch, when he sits down the smile is gone again, looks thoughtful*
Leslie: *there was room on her couch* *but maybe he doesn't want to sit with her* *angles herself so she can look at him without stretching* So. How have you been?
Zef: *he does but he's insecure and wants to give her some space* *shifts to the end of the couch that's closest to her couch* Oh. Well, the past two weeks were kinda, I felt pretty good. The people I beat up didn't. And turning back sucked badly.
Leslie: *nods* Are you okay now?
Zef: Officially, yes. Unofficially... *pause, because how to say this best* I'm sorting things out, but it will take a while. Being Hyde was kinda really intense, different from other Zef-versions I've been and, well. But I left my quarters, so I'd say I'm okay enough.
Leslie: Progress has been made.
Zef: *nods* Yeah, I guess. What about you? How have you been?
Leslie: *shrugs* Pretty okay. That version of Leslie wasn't...too much of a stretch of the imagination. *makes a face* It'll just be weird between me and a few other crewmembers for awhile...so um. Well. I missed you. *good job Leslie best segue ever*
Zef: *o_o* I missed you, too. *nodnod* It's good to see you, really. And talk.
Leslie: Yeah. Except I don't want to talk. Well. I mean, I'd rather not talk about /that/ *The Thing .__.* if that's okay with you. Like ever. If we could somehow magically avoid it, I'd like that. *Iwannabefriendsbuthowcanweifthere'sthat* *soitdoesn'texist*
Zef: *yes let's just ignore it, if we both ignore it then it never happened right? Can't things work like that...?* Oh... yeah, me too. I'd like that, too. But if we don't talk about it, I mean... I'd rather not talk about it, but I'm no magician...
Leslie: Well, yes, /but/. I don't know about you but talking about it just makes me upset and not want to talk to you, and funny thing, but I really like you, so I wanna keep you around. *runs a hand through her hair* Do you see?
Zef: *nods slowly* Yeaah... I guess I do. I... don't want to upset you. But if we don't talk, then, well. It's not one of those things where you just wait for a while and eventually the problem solves itself, right? *please say I'm wrong, we just have to wait for a bit and we'll be good, I wanna be wrong o_o;*
Leslie: *but see maybe the problem will go away and you'll get smart and realize you're wrong* If we have to, I guess we have to, but I really really don't want to. There are other things to talk about.
Zef: Well... yeah, there are other things to talk about. But I upset you. So somewhere I went wrong. *other than having The Thing in the first place, I guess it was also about the things I've said or how I said them* And I'd like to make that right, if I can. But I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to. I don't want to. I could make it worse, I'm not good at discussions. But then I can't make it right.
Leslie: Where you went wrong is someplace where I have no business in, and it's not something you're going to change, so how would you make it right?
Zef: Well... I'm not sure if I can. But when we talked about the whole thing I might have made it worse with what I said. *helpless shrug*
Leslie: Who knows. It's not a good situation in the first place.
Zef: I guess... *looks out of the window, is stuck*
Leslie: I'm sorry. *this shouldn't be so difficult*
Zef: *sighs quietly, looks at her* Yeah, me too. *no, it shouldn't*
Leslie: Can I come over there?
Zef: *nodnod* Sure, yeah. *ghost of a smile* Of course.
Leslie: *quick smile, oh and then it's gone* I wasn't sure. Since you sat there. *gets up and moves over to sit next to him*
Zef: Oh... well, yeah. I was just insecure. But I want to sit with you. *turns towards her*
Leslie: *that makes her feel better* Thanks.
Zef: I really missed you. *o_o* Oh. And I'm really glad you're okay, I mean, okay after the latest mind twist. *meaning, he's glad she wasn't harmed badly or worse* Not eaten.
Leslie: I missed you too...wait. Why would I be eaten?
Zef: *slight shrug* Eaten. Bewitched. Stabbed. You know... the common issues.
Leslie: Oh! *crooked smile* Yeah, none of that. I'm glad you're okay, too.
Zef: *smiles carefully* I spent two nights in the brig, though.
Leslie: Did you? *raises an eyebrow* That misbehaved, huh?
Zef: Well, I had fun. But I attacked Glinn Roca and that didn't go well. Turns out, she's a better fighter.
Leslie: You don't say.
Zef: A shock, I know. *except not*
Leslie: Were you hurt?
Zef: *headshake* The fight didn't even take a minute...
Leslie: *snorts, amused*
Zef: *slight careful smile* I guess I've had more fights in the last two weeks than in my entire life. *or not, but he's had a lot of fights and what even is accuracy*
Leslie: And you're still alive, too. *shakes her head* Maybe soon you'll be picking fights with everybody. A real menace.
Zef: I don't think I will. I remembered that I mind pain and if you end up in a fight, it's likely that you get hurt. It's funny how a point of view can change so quickly...
Leslie: Yes, that is strange.
Zef: Yeah, really. *o__o; I still like you, though* So... so my wrath won't hit anyone.
Leslie: How fortunate. I don't think I'd be able to beat you if it came to a fight.
Zef: No one would be able to stop me, if I tried.
Leslie: Because you're too tough for anyone to take. *nod, nod*
Zef: Of course. *coughs* I let Glinn Roca win, you know. I wanted to see the brig. I hadn't before.
Leslie: Very strategic of you. Much better than just asking for a tour.
Zef: *nods* Yeah, tours are lame. But I got to stay for two nights. And kept people busy. Because I was having so much fun with the forcefield.
Leslie: I'm sure you did.
Zef: Yeah, it was... quite thrilling.
Leslie: Did you have fun?
Zef: Well, no. *brief headshake* I mean, who'd like being locked in? But I didn't feel well at all. Not alive. It confused and then annoyed my Hyde-mind. So... the forcefield was the next best thing to blame, because the Security officer was hesitant to come in when I asked.
Leslie: Oh, of course.
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah. *but now it's Zef's mind again, just Zef's o_o;* *nods slowly* Right...
Leslie: But you're not him anymore.
Zef: *sighs quietly, nods again* Yeah, right. I'm not him anymore. I'm Zefram. *nodnodnod* I know, it's just, sometimes it's still weird. *sometimes I'm still crazy*
Leslie: Yeah, I know. It's weird for me, too.
Zef: Like... do you mix things up? Sometimes.
Leslie: Ehhhhh *awkward* Not so much this time around. But it's still weird. *because of reasons*
Zef: Oh... yeah, I guess there are many reasons for why it's still weird. Just many.
Leslie: Yup.
Zef: Yeahh... I hope that's gonna stop soon.
Leslie: It probably will. It always does.
Zef: I guess you're right.
Leslie: Of course I'm right. *draws herself up* I'm an experienced officer.
Zef: I wouldn't doubt it.
Leslie: You better not. I didn't do all this work for nothing.
Zef: No, you didn't. If I have doubts in anyone, it's myself.
Leslie: Now that's just sad.
Zef: But nothing new. *clueless shrug*
Leslie: It's still sad.
Zef: It's not so bad this time, though. For my level of confusion, I mean. I'm outside my quarters, so that's something. *shifts posture slightly*
Leslie: Out of your quarters and not in Sickbay.
Zef: *nods* That, too. I can even have conversations with people. Almost like a sane reasonable person.
Leslie: Amazing.
Zef: Yeah. See? Not so bad. *aside form everything that's f... bad, you know*
Leslie: I do see. *and there's so much bad but it's better to just keep quiet*
Zef: *would talk about it but a) she doesn't want to and b) chances are he'd make it worse and they'd end up not wanting to see each other ever again, so this is better than that...* Yeah... Well, I know you do. You know me.
Leslie: Yeah, I guess you do. And I do. *sits back with a disgruntled look on her face* *I know you, or I thought I did*
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah. *and then he was out of words*
Leslie: *is quiet for about a minute* You were right. I am angry at you. *out of the blue comment is out of the blue* *and totally not referencing a conversation they had weeks ago nooooo*
Zef: *startles, swallows o_______o; Did they not agree on not talking about it? Heisn'treadyforthiswhynowhy!* *nods silently, he remembers that conversation, even that it happened in the current reality version, it's quite clear for some reason...*
Leslie: *breathes* I know you think you're right, and I'm wrong, and maybe that's so *but psh unlikely* but you really pissed me off when you said you know Terrence. Because I knew him too. I spent time getting to know him, I talked with him, he was my best friend. Molly knew him longer than I did, they dated, they were engaged, they got married, they fought, and your reasoning for why she and I couldn't stay with him while you could, was that "you know him", which totally invalidates all the effort we put into our respective relationships with him, which is /really/ /fucking/ /pretentious/ of you. We knew him too, and just because you think you know him and you can get along with him doesn't mean that we didn't. So first of all, how dare you. *breathes again*
Zef: *inhales slowly and basically holds is breath while he listens, except he doesn't but it feels like it*
Leslie: And I know I said I didn't want to talk about it and we agreed, but it's been really bothering me, and I'm sorry.
Zef: *stiff headshake* No... no, is okay. *is honest, just somewhat startled and tensed*
Leslie: Okay. *nods slowly and lets out a breath, waiting to see if he has something to say about her rant*
Zef: Okay. Erm. Do you want to go on? If not, I will. *try to reply*
Leslie: No, that's enough for now.
Zef: *breathes deeply, nodding (and crap, she said “for now”), looks outside window for a moment, then closes his eyes for another moment and eventually looks at her, but takes a deep breath before he replies* Okay. So... I did not mean to invalidate your effort or Molly's. But I guess I felt like /my/ effort was invalidated. I felt like you're thinking that I have no idea what I'm getting into. But I do. I put effort in this and I am not blind. So I said 'I know him', because I do. Maybe I should say 'I know him differently'.
Leslie: That's a little better. *not much*
Zef: What would be even better?
Leslie: *rubs her forehead* Maybe not anything about how you know him at all, but rather just how you think you can make it work. *pause* Actually, nothing you can say is going to make me happy because I hate the ba-...boy, but that's fairly close.
Zef: *takes a deep breath* How I... think I can make it work? It? What it?
Leslie: Whatever it is you have with him.
Zef: Well, what we have /is/ working. *I don't have to make it work* So far. I mean. *shrugs, more insecurely, calmer* Everything can go wrong, for whatever reason... I can try to explain why I think it's working, though.
Leslie: Thanks, but I'd rather you didn't. Unless you think you need to. *as an afterthought*
Zef: Isn't that what you wanted me to explain...? *confused*
Leslie: Did I?
Zef: I thought you did... when I asked you what reply would have been better than mine. But yeah, we can make it work out. It is working out. And I don't need to tell you why, if you'd rather not hear it. I thought asked.
Leslie: *shakes her head* I'd rather not. I'll just disagree and neither of us needs that.
Zef: *nods* Okay. Yeah. Anyway, I didn't want to offend you.
Leslie: Thank you. I didn't mean to leave that for so long.
Zef: Never mind.
Leslie: *stays quiet*
Zef: *stares out of the window, eyes slightly narrow, thinking*
Leslie: I um. That's all I have to say for now. *are we still okay* *or maybe okay* *or just anything other than through* *stares out the window too*
Zef: *keeps staring out of the window for another few seconds, then looks at her and nods* Okay. I don't have anything to add. Or say. Thanks for telling me, though.
Leslie: Yeah. *sinks down in her seat because she is a child*
Zef: *hesitates, but finally grabs his PADD and gets up* Do you think “I'll see you around” works this time? *I hope so o__o; but now I have to go, like really...*
Leslie: *shakes her head* I think I like "see you later" better? *looks up at him uncertainly*
Zef: *thinks briefly* Yeah. *nods* I'd like that. See you later, Leslie. And... and sorry. *but I should go before I snap at you or yell and it wouldn't be fair, I'd say things I'd deeply regret...*
Leslie: Yeah, same. About both. Bye Zefram. *gives him a very worked-at smile, meaning it's not very good at all*
Zef: *for a second he tries to smile back, but it'd be artificial and he doesn't want to lie like this, so he simply nodnods* Bye Leslie. *heads for the turbolift and leaves the O-Deck*
Leslie: *slides down even lower in her seat and wishes she hadn't woken up*
III.
Erik: *staring pensively into space on the O-deck. His hands are behind his back, one hand white-knucled around the other's wrist.*
Fallan: *He walks by, involved with a PADD, but he stops when he notices Erik. Dear god, this man is so tense you could probably pluck him like a harp string. Maybe it's because of the recent costume thing...? He'd like to leave him alone, but genuine concern keeps him there.* Young man, are you well...?
Erik: *turns, and faces Fallan* Oh. Pardon. *the moment he turns away from the viewport, some of the tension leaves his body* I'm weller than I have been in the past, anyhow.
Fallan: *How peculiar. He makes a mental note of it...* You are sure? You appeared to be ready to strike something.
Erik: *Jerks his head back at the window* I've, ah, developed somewhat of a phobia of... space. I'm trying to fight it. I've been told Starfleet operates in space.
Fallan: *He stares at the space outside the window. Yeah, he's about 99.99% sure that Starfleet operates in space. He is a scientist, he knows these things. He keeps his snark to himself...* Well, that's an interesting phobia to develop. Do you mind if I ask how it came about? If it makes you feel uncomfortable, you are not obligated to answer. *He walks over to stand by Erik's side.*
Erik: *grins at him* Most every bad thing that's ever happened to me has happened in space. *sighs* With those damn, uncaring stars staring down, like a million eyes. A million worlds. Trillions of beings... teeming. Hating. It's like looking at your skin under a microscope and realizing your very body is a zoo. *flaps a hand* I'm making no sense. The fear is complex.
Fallan: No, you are making sense. *He nods. Poor guy, it sounds like he's really struggling too...Though what in the world is he doing on a /space/ ship?* May I have your name?
Erik: Erik: I'm Erik. Erik Schroding. *offers a hand* Communications. I've been on this ship for too damn long.
Fallan: *He shakes his hand. Fallan's got a strong grip.* I am Fallan-Ra-Gensolli. I'm in Sciences, as you can see. I'm still new here. You are very brave for facing your phobia head on, you know.
Erik: I'm an idiot. *his grip is neither crushing nor loose.* Sciences, huh? *he can't help but notice the ensign tabs, but decides not to say anything* Good. We can always use more science knowledge. Maybe next time we get transformed into fish or something, you'll fix it in half a week, instead of a full week.
Fallan: *He chuckles and cracks a small smile. He's trying to change the topic of conversation, but something about the self depreciating comment sounds so painfully familiar.* Well, I'll do what I can to save the fish-crew, despite my love for fish dishes. But--what makes you think you're an idiot, if you'll allow me to ask.
Erik: I'm still here, aren't I? *shrugs* Everyone on this ship is an idiot. Everyone who's bothered to actually read our mission logs, anyways.
Fallan: Well, I'll take that as a compliment. *Despite the fact it's not one at all. Deep breath, hold, release...* It's true this ship appears to have a track record worthy of an Earth sitcom. It sounds to me like you'd like to leave, am I correct?
Erik: Mm. A good question. I've been asking it myself, lately. There is nothing I would love... or fear... more than leaving.
Fallan: You would fear leaving? Why is this?
Erik: Well, my friends would not leave with me. And I've saved all their lives... well. Multiple times. Ergo, if I leave, they die. Hm?
Fallan: I understand. You have a purpose here, then, and a very good one at that. It seems to me like you're faced with a very hard decision, then...
Erik: Quite. Tear out my heart for the sake of my heart...
Fallan: I understand. *He nods. This whole time, he's been watching out the window, but now he turns to glance at Erik. He feels real sympathy for the guy. He lets some silence pass as he thinks about what to say.* I'm sure you'd rather not hear more advice and opinions from someone else, so I won't give any unless you ask. *He sighs,* That's a very heavy weight to be carrying around.
Erik: Oh, by all means, give advice. I'm always willing to listen to advice.
Fallan: You are sure? I can be a bit of a windbag.
Erik: Ah, I like windbags. By all means, ensign, blow me away.
Fallan: Well. As I've said, you're brave for standing here. You stare your fear down, that's more than most will do. Second...there is nothing wrong with being afraid. It's easy to fall into the habit of beating yourself up for it, mentally, but it's a perfectly natural reaction. I'm sure you've been told that before by someone at least once, but it is important enough to be said again. Thirdly--the trick to anxiety and fear is that they convince you that it is impossible or difficult to overcome. It seems like to stay in space would be to tear your heart out. Fear is not permanent, it does not rule you. If you trust in your strength to overcome your problems, you will.
Erik: Oh, no, it's literally going to tear my heart out. I can't survive every time. And even when I do, a little bit more of my sanity is chipped away every time, never to be recovered. *he sighs* It's not a question of if, it's a question of when. *he turns and looks out into space, then shudders and jerks his gaze away* Every time I lose a piece of myself, the void creeps in a bit more. *he touches his chest* I can feel it inside here. That emptiness. The cold, glittering stars.
Fallan: *Okay now he's just talking about things that Fallan doesn't understand all the way. He almost thinks to ask Erik if he's been drinking. He takes a moment to think this over. Damn, why didn't he take psychology?* It sounds as if you're feeling less than whole. I'm sure your therapist has mentioned things that might help you. Have you tried any of them?
Erik: My dear ensign, I have tried everything. *claps him on the back* I'm afraid I must leave for my shift. See you around.
Fallan: *Why is he calling him ensign and not his name? And why is he touching him? No, it's okay, calm down. He nods and folds his hands in front of him to watch the stars.* Enjoy your shift, then. I apologize for talking your ears off, as the phrase goes.
Erik: You did nothing wrong! *vanishes through the door*
IV.
Molly: *has taken to hanging out in one of the rec rooms when she's off duty and doesn't feel like being in her quarters, and is there now attempting to play a racing game and resolving never to fly a shuttle*
Leslie: *walking past the rec room after leaving the O-Deck; not quite ready to go to her room, but not sure where to go, so she's wandering around, and glances in the rec room as she walks past, stopping when she sees Molly inside and stands in the doorway, debating on whether or not to talk to said redhead*
Molly: *hears the door open and pauses her game to glance backwards* Hey Leslie! *on screen, her vehicle has just crashed into a truly glorious fireball*
Leslie: Hey. Did I make you do that?
Molly: *looks back at the screen and sighs* No. I'm just a really bad driver, apparently.
Leslie: *looks back at the screen, too* Remind me to never let you take pilot.
Molly: I'm just figuring that out, too. Though I'm sure an actual helm is different from a controller, you know? *tosses said controller to the side* What's up?
Leslie: We can only hope. *steps inside to let the door close* Oh, not too much. Just a bit restless so I'm not sure what to do with myself tonight.
Molly: Want to race me and watch me accidentally blow things up? *pats the seat next to her on the couch*
Leslie: Sure. *steps over and sits down on the couch, grabbing a controller* I'll probably crash into you.
Molly: That's fine. *picks up her own controller again and goes back to the main menu to add another player* *waits until Leslie is looking at the screen, then gives her a side glance to see if Leslie is showing any signs of Angry or Sad or Depressed or the other various prominent Leslie emotions*
Leslie: *mostly just looks concentrated on the game* You're definitely gonna crash if you do that a lot.
Molly: Do what a lot? *adds the other player and starts a new race*
Leslie: Look at me.
Molly: Well I had to figure out if there's something wrong, didn't I? Or you could just tell me. *looks back at the screen as the race starts*
Leslie: Would that mean you instantly press me for information and need to make sure I'm okay? *starts off the race with a glorious beginning by weaving back and forth and an inability to maintain altitude*
Molly: *has gotten the hang of the beginning by now at least and takes off ahead of Leslie* Ummm.... maybe? No? Only if you want? *one of those is surely the right answer*
Leslie: *wry smirk* That's a lot of options.
Molly: Three isn't /so/ many. Shit! *throws her whole body to the side (away from Leslie) to avoid an obstacle*
Leslie: *laughs* It's enough. And right now, I'd rather you didn't.
Molly: Okay whatever. *a little miffed that whenever something happens to Leslie she refuses to open up or share* *wants to help but is never given information on how*
Leslie: I don't know exactly what's up, and I don't know how to articulate it, so it's better to just leave it alone until I do.
Molly: Well it's not like you tell me about it once you've figured it out either. *avoids the obstacle she crashed on last time* Yesssss.
Leslie: I do if it's important.
Molly: Alright. *button mashes around another obstacle and then flies straight into the next one* Goddammit.
Leslie: *chortles* You go too fast...says me who is three kilometers behind you.
Molly: Brakes are for wussies. *waits for her vehicle to reload and takes off again*
Leslie: Are you calling me a wussy?
Molly: Are you losing?
Leslie: I haven't crashed.
Molly: Are you losing? The answer is yes.
Leslie: Yes. I am losing.
Molly: Are you using your brakes?
Leslie: No, I'm just not zooming ahead with abandon.
Molly: But life's more fun that way.
Leslie: That's how you make mistakes Molly. *almost crashes into the obstacle that Molly crashed into earlier* Fuuuuucccccccckkkkk.
Molly: Yeah we all know I make plenty of those. *mutters*
Leslie: Do you?
Molly: Take a look at my life, Leslie, and you tell me. *bashes her vehicle against something but manages not to blow it up this time*
Leslie: Hmm, yes, Starfleet. Tragic mistake. Also becoming friends with me. Really, what were you thinking?
Molly: *rolls her eyes* Yeah, the two biggest mistakes of my life, right there.
Leslie: Toldja.
Molly: How did we even become friends anyway I don't even remember.
Leslie: I think you learned some deep tragic backstory of mine, also there was nobody else interesting in our department.
Molly: Did I bug you until you told me? That sounds like me.
Leslie: You did.
Molly: I'd say I'm sorry but I'm really not.
Leslie: I know. *pauses as she concentrates on not hitting things* Personally, I think it's because you got so tired of refereeing fights between me and the department that you just finally befriended me.
Molly: You and the department meaning you and people /in/ the department?
Leslie: No, I mean the office itself. Me and the consoles duked it out once or twice.
Molly: Luckily I wasn't there to see that, I'm very fond of my consoles.,
Leslie: I always made sure you were gone first.
Molly: *stops paying close enough attention and drives into a wall* Gah. Anyway, whatever it was, I'm glad we're friends. Even though you're really freaking closed off most of the time.
Leslie: I'm glad, too. And I do tell you the important stuff. Just like you tell me.
Molly: I tell you /all/ the stuff I'm basically incapable of keeping my troubles to myself around you. It's like the fountain opens up and all my issues spill forth in a torrent of- MOTHERFUCKING SHIT *blows up*
Leslie: Well if you wanna put it like that...
Molly: At least tell me if it's Erik this time. *needs to anticipate him moping*
Leslie: I haven't seen or talked to Erik.
Molly: *must be Zef then* Okay. *finally crosses the finish line* Ahh yes I win. And totally not because I played this course sixteen times before you came in.
Leslie: I'm sure it was your natural talent and finesse. *sets down her controller and leans back*
Molly: Yeah, clearly. *tosses her own controller down too and watches the victory screen* I'm pretty good at soccer, that totally translates to this right?
Leslie: Absolutely. Balls, flying things, they're practically identical.
Molly: Soccer balls fly through the air when you kick them correctly. So yeah, totally identical.
Leslie: Told ya.
Molly: Anyway. Do you want a sleepover or no? I've got booze. *stocked up on the station* *has a huge hoard now*
Leslie: I'm always up for booze if you're up for sharing.
Molly: Of course I'm up for sharing. Drinking alone is lame and weepy. Come on. *turns off the tv and stands*
Leslie: *stands, too* So I don't have to worry about you getting wasted alone in your room and suffocating on your own vomit, huh. Convenient.
Molly: Oh my god that's disgusting. What.
Leslie: You don't drink alone.
Molly: I try not to, no.
Leslie: So I don't have to worry about your alcohol-induced death. Is all I'm saying.
Molly: No, you don't. That kind of death I should avoid. All the other kinds, that's still up in the air. *heads out of the rec room, assuming Leslie will follow*
Leslie: I'm so relieved. That totally narrows it down.
Molly: Cross one off a list of hundreds, yeah. Totally narrowed down.
Leslie: Helpful. *is following, for the record*
Molly: Personally I think at some point my luck is just gonna run out.
Leslie: It does seem that way.
Molly: *glares* You're not supposed to agree. You're supposed to tell me I'll live a long and prosperous life.
Leslie: But you're thirty-one you should have done that already.
Molly: Wow. I changed my mind, you can't drink with me.
Leslie: Ouch.
Molly: Rule number one of drinking with me, don't remind me how old I am.
Leslie: What, twenty-five?
Molly: Har har de har har.
Leslie: Okay I won't. Promise.
Molly: I feel like there should be more rules than that but I haven't figured them out yet.
Leslie: Tell me when you learn them.
Molly: I'm sure I'll think of more once I start drinking. *by the power of magical walking, they are at Molly's quarters and she opens the door* *inside it's kinda messy, she's just been dropping stuff everywhere and there are blankets and pillows all over the floor so she can just drop anywhere she wants*
Leslie: I love what you've done with the place.
Molly: Oh thanks. I've been brushing up on my decorating skills. *makes her way through the piles and to a cupboard that is positively overflowing with alcohol* Any preferences?
Leslie: Whiskey's always good. *so is tequila but let's not get plastered, shall we?*
Molly: You got it. *gets out an unopened bottle and two glasses and weaves her way back to the couch, setting everything on the coffee table*
Leslie: *finds a place to sit and sets herself down before hopping back up again and going to the replicator* Want anything?
Molly: No thanks. *pours herself a glass, kicks off her boots, and sits cross-legged on the couch*
Leslie: Okay. *makes herself a bowl of ice cream and comes back* Thanks for sharing your booze. *sits*
Molly: Anytime. Who else am I gonna drink with, anyway. *straight-shots half the glass, because why not*
Leslie: I dunno. You know lots of people. Maybe you like drinking with them.
Molly: I /know/ lots of people. Doesn't mean I'm comfortable enough to drink with them.
Leslie: I'm flattered, then. *takes a few sips of her drink*
Molly: Just telling you though, if you get plastered I'm not letting you out of here until morning.
Leslie: I'll be fine. Probably won't get plastered.
Molly: But if you do.
Leslie: Understood.
Molly: I also promise to try and not prod you for information. But once /I/ get drunk all promises go out the window. *tips back the rest of the glass and then refills it*
Leslie: I acknowledge the risks, and accept them.
Molly: Even though I can be really nosy?
Leslie: I know you well enough by now I hope. *decides to just pour the whiskey on her ice cream, mix it in, and eat it that way* I can deal.
Molly: I guess that's true.
Leslie: Don't judge me.
Molly: This is a judgement free zone. I have pillows all over my floor so I can nap wherever I want. That's how judgement free this zone is.
Leslie: I like that sort of zone. I may implement it, so I can collapse anywhere I want.
Molly: It's really nice if you just want to stop doing things you can just stop and drop.
Leslie: So few people realize that. *spoons up her ice cream/booze mix and starts eating it at a rapid pace*
Molly: How's Terminator doing?
Leslie: Not as fat. I put my foot down and she is eating only lean cuisine.
Molly: There's diet food for animals?
Leslie: Oh, yeah. A whole industry.
Molly: Can't you just give your pet.. less food? Or exercise them?
Leslie: /I/ could, but my mother will not. And one does not simply exercise Terminator. She does whatever she pleases.
Molly: Can't you put cats on treadmills or something? I swear I've seen a video like that.
Leslie: *sighs* My mother will not, and she is responsible for my cat's care.
Molly: Then get Terminator a new caretaker.
Leslie: *snorts* Who? The twins are in college, Elyse has a teenager to control, and I think my sister-in-law is either allergic or afraid. It gives my mom something to take care of, albeit badly.
Molly: Well, I'm sure the diet will help. She'll live a long and grouchy life.
Leslie: She will. And then I'll retire and she'll live with me and we'll be grouchy together.
Molly: How soon are you planning on retiring? *on her third glass*
Leslie: I think sixty is a nice number. *finishes her ice cream and just goes for a glass this time*
Molly: I hate to break it to you, but I don't think even the healthiest of cats live past thirty.
Leslie: Terminator is a special cat.
Leslie: Terminator is a special cat.
Molly: Okay Leslie. When you're sixty you'll retire with your cat. I'd join you, but I'll probably be dead.
Leslie: You're like, a year older than me.
Molly: Yeah but my luck is fucking awful.
Leslie: I'll try not to let you die.
Molly: Well you're a doctor now, so I'm sure that will help.
Leslie: Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.
Molly: Have you not talked to Erik at all? *switches topics fast when she's starting to get tipsy*
Leslie: No, not really. *shakes her head* He was really upset about the breakup, so I didn't really want to trigger anything by initiating conversation.
Molly: I haven't really talked to him either. *sighs* He was really supportive after mine but I tried to stop bothering him after yours since I figured he had enough on his mind.
Leslie: I'm just glad you went to talk to him when it happened.
Molly: *swirls the liquid in her glass* We've been friends for a long time, you know? It's just easy to talk to him. But I have you too, which is great.
Leslie: Girl friend and a friend that can kick ass. Must be great.
Molly: *wryly* Oh yeah my life is super awesome didn't you know?
Leslie: I do know. I wake up in the morning and try to figure out how I can be more like you.
Molly: I'll give you a tip, that's a /terrible/ plan.
Leslie: I dunno, you've got a pretty cool job. And rank.
Molly: You'll get there. You had to concentrate on being a doctor, and now you are one.
Leslie: So...in another *counts on her fingers* nine years I'll get the job I want? Great.
Molly: Hey that still leaves you twenty-one years before retirement.
Molly: Grey hair is inevitable. Grey hair will look good with your hair though, it's so dark.
Leslie: It will stick out and I will look like the table shakers spilled into my hair. *finishes her glass* I like my hair unblemished.
Molly: You could always get it dyed or something.
Leslie: It's crossed my mind.
Molly: I should dye my hair. *thoughtfully*
Leslie: What color?
Molly: Anything not red, really.
Leslie: *studies her* You might pull off brunette.
Molly: Maybe. *waves a hand* I don't know. I'll probably just leave it, as always.
Leslie: I wish I could tell you I was blonde once, but that would be a lie.
Molly: There's still time. You're still young. There's hair dye in the replicator. I think.
Leslie: There is. And bleach. I /did/ bleach the tips in college, but that's as far as I've gone.
Molly: Let's do it. *pours herself another glass and then gets up and heads towards the replicator*
Leslie: What, bleach them again? Or do something to you? *stands because this should be something she's more involved in*
Molly: Dye your whole head. *punching in numbers* Blonde Leslie.
Leslie: What? *splutters* But why?
Molly: *pauses and thinks about it* I don't know. Because it would be cool? *the bottle has a serious in its contents*
Leslie: Okay but we have to do something to your hair too.
Molly: Nope. Absolutely not. *abandons the replicator and starts braiding her hair in self defense*
Leslie: Then no blonde Leslie. That's the deal.
Molly: You're no fun. *comes back to the couch, tying off the end of the braid*
Leslie: I am /lots/ of fun, thank you. You're the one who's boring.
Molly: Just because I don't want someone's hands all over my hair doesn't make me boring. It means I want my hair left alone. *sits back down*
Leslie: *sighs* Okay fine. *pours herself another drink and sips it standing up* Do you think I'd look good blonde?
Molly: I don't know. Don't let me make decisions right now.
Leslie: Right, and you're supposed to be judging how plastered /I/ am?
Molly: I think I'll just go to sleep instead. *moves from the couch to a pile of pillows on the floor* Yeah. Good plan. Best plan I've had in a while.
Leslie: *wait no I was gonna let you dye my hair it's actually a great idea* Okay. Night?
Molly: You can dye your hair in my bathroom if you really want to. But I'm withdrawing from any responsibility.
Leslie: You'll totally miss out. *heads to the replicator*
Molly: If you're mad about it in the morning I want to be able to claim innocence.
Leslie: Boring. Sleep well. *pulls out a pack of dye from the replicator and heads to the bathroom*
Molly: *puts a pillow over her face and mumbles* Please stop calling me boring.
Leslie: You are truly a live wire and your very presence is inspiring.
Molly: Gee thanks.
Leslie: *calls from the bathroom* Any time!
Molly: Don't do anything stupid in there.
Leslie: I'm gonna pierce my navel too. Maybe a tattoo. It's gonna be fun.
Molly: I am not responsible for any of that.
Leslie: You've already said. I think you signed something. Now will you go to sleep so I can put this shit in my hair?
Molly: *puts the pillow on her face again and rolls onto her side*
Leslie: *takes that as a yes and proceeds to dye her hair* *she will regret it in the morning* *but it'll be rad*
Molly: *wakes up in the morning and can't believe she let Leslie do that*
Leslie: *spends the night in Molly's room and wakes up thinking about the same thing*
Molly: *may or may not scream when she wakes up and sees how blonde it is*
Leslie: *dear god do I have to deal with a panic attack*
Molly: *no, just shock*
Leslie: *oh okay*
V.
[Edited as well as flagged for mild sexual content but literally they just make out the only clothing that comes off is Terrence's uglysweater and heaven knows everyone is glad about that.]
II. Zef and Leslie clear the air, but neither of them are really happy yet
III. Fear: Fallan and Erik get deep
IV. Molly and Leslie drink together and make decisions they'll probably regret tomorrow
V. "Us": Terrence tells Zef he's finally ready for them to be a couple
I.
Terrence: *settled in a little camp chair he brought to the arboretum, with a book on his knee. He brought an extra chair for T'Pah for their (belated) Monday literature session*
T’Pah: *enters the arboretum and walks around to find Terrence, a PADD with some literature under her arm* *finds and joins him soon* Terrence. *looks at the second chair quizzically… apparently thinks that’s more polite than just assuming it’s hers and sitting down*
Terrence: I brought a chair for you. ^_^ *gestures and bends down to pick up a teapot from a little cloth beside his chair* Tea?
T’Pah: Thank you. *takes the PADD in her hands and sits down* Yes, please.
Terrence: *pours her out a mug of tea and holds it out to her* Apple spice, perfect for fall. *grins* *is himself wearing a sweater with a burgundy background and light brown latticework over it--it's meant to look like a pie, apparently*
T’Pah: *takes the tea with a lifted eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on the tea choice* *and apparently lacks the fantasy to recognise the ‘pie’* This time I wear pants, but do not risk to wet them in an attempt to drink.
Terrence: *blinks* You...usually wear pants.
T’Pah: That is correct. I was referring to our last meeting when I was *in fact not even wearing skin* not in the mindset of understanding the idea of being clothed.
Terrence: *blinks again, then pauses, then his mouth drops open* Oh my god! You were the skeleton? That was /you/?
T’Pah: *nods* Yes, I was the skeleton. I am hesitant, however, to assent without further ado that the skeleton was me.
Terrence: *tilts his head* You think it wasn't yours? Why wouldn't it be though?
T’Pah: As I understand it, the illusion influenced our behaviour and personalities to know, think and assume what we usually wouldn’t. I therefore do not think it logical to fully identify myself with my actions as a skeleton.
Terrence: *nods slowly* I guess that's smart. *little grin* Logical. I wasn't Dr. Jekyll, after all.
T’Pah: I could not tell the difference. *pause* Dr Jekyll, as far as I know, has been perceived and portrayed very differently since his appearance by the original source. Without specific reference to one of those sources, the resulting personality would be inconsequential at best. *another pause, eyes him curiously* Did you experience any form of schizophrenia or split personality during the past two weeks?
Terrence: Not really. *shrugs* Looking back, I can see that I wasn't a perfect representation of him, and elements of myself remained, but it was cohesive rather than confusing.
T’Pah: *nods slowly* I do not connect a skeleton with any personality at all. Looking back, I do think that I might have acted a lot like myself finding out about the illogical circumstances of my own existence.
Terrence: *grins* You kinda did, now that I think about it. You were all "I would like to wear clothing so as to make it more likely the scientists will talk to me."
T’Pah: *nods* It seemed the most logical thing to do, aiming at talking to the scientists.
Terrence: *still grinning* Never change, T'Pah. Except for the normal and healthy growth and development of sentient character.
T’Pah: *lifts an eyebrow slightly* I am not planning to. It was, after all, hard work to shape my personality the way it is now.
Terrence: I'm glad you did it. I'm very fond of you.
T’Pah: I appreciate that. It often appears to me that, being Vulcan, other intelligent beings label you with either being ignorant and boring, or mistake composure for ease.
Terrence: Most people don't understand someone different than them. It takes some time, some work. *shrugs* Some people aren't willing to give that, or don't realize they ought.
T’Pah: I agree. I therefore appreciate your willingness to “give that”.
Terrence: *smiles* You're more than worth it. *so affectionate today*
T’Pah: *lifts an eyebrow, fascinated by the affection*
Terrence: *chuckles, because well, what response did he expect from her anyway?*
T’Pah: …Did we want to discuss literature today?
Terrence: Yeah, I do. *turns the book over in his hands to reveal the cover* I brought The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde...it seemed appropriate. But, ah? *glances at her questioningly*
T’Pah: *glances at the cover and is about to nod when he asks an unspecific question* Yes? *will he go on and ask an actual question, or was the question whether or not she finds the book appropriate?*
Terrence: Can we talk about something else unrelated to the book first? Well, mostly unrelated, only related by happenstance. Would you mind? You have the time?
T’Pah: *nods slowly* I do have the time and do not mind. In fact, I am rather curious. *turns to him*
Terrence: *nodnod* Okay. Right. So I got divorced six months ago... *pause* Not even quite that long. But you were there for all that.
T’Pah: *nods in acknowledgement, waiting for him to go on*
Terrence: And...you know Zef and I are close, and we spend a lot of time together, and we take care of each other. *reaches up to run a hand over his hair, the swipes his thumb past his undercut because it feels cool* A few months ago, we realized we were falling in love with each other. But it was too soon for me, I still hurt too much after the divorce. So he's waited, and I've been sorting myself.
T’Pah: *this is about emotions* *she is Vulcan* *would a human know how to respond to that? Or in which way it is related to her?* Fascinating.
Terrence: *nods in agreement, expecting such an answer from her--that's why he's talking with her* So now I think I'm there. Now when I think about dating Zef, I don't feel hurt from Molly or sad or want to spite her like I did for a while. Now I just...feel guilty.
T’Pah: *knits her brows* Guilty about what?
Terrence: I'm happy and I could be even happier with Zef, but...it doesn't seem like Molly's happy. *shakes his head* It almost seems wrong to make a decision like this when she's still not recovered.
T’Pah: *takes a few seconds to contemplate that in silence* I do not see a satisfying correlation between you refraining from being happy and her happiness.
Terrence: No, neither do I, not when I look at it objectively. We renounced our responsiblities towards each other when we broke up, that's what a divorce is.
T’Pah: *nods* As a Vulcan I may not have much insight or experience in human love relations. However, I do not believe that “sharing emotions” means the responsibility of feeling exactly the same for the exactly same amount of time. *does it?*
Terrence: *nods a bit* No. It doesn't, I guess. So...I think I should go for it. A relationship with Zef. I don't need to feel guilty anymore, Molly's life is out of my hands, it's what she wanted.
T’Pah: Perhaps. You may want to brace yourself for accusations, nevertheless. I, though, believe that the human philosophy would demand of a friend to suggest to “stand by your true feelings”. I do not think that it will add to Commander McAdams’ happiness that you make yourself unhappy. In fact, should she find out about you refraining from making yourself happy on her behalf, she might develop an urge to pretend being happy, as a result of feeling pressured to separate her own fate from yours.
Terrence: *blinks* You're--I'm, I never thought of that. You're right, she'd do exactly something like that, and then we'd both be miserable. Again.
T’Pah: *nods* Therefore I think confronting her with you moving on might give both of you a better opportunity to heal and develop a new understanding for and relationship with one another.
Terrence: *makes a small face* She seemed kinda...uncomfortable to learn that Zef and I liked each other, when I told her. I...I dunno if she wants to be told when I'm ready for a new relationship.
T’Pah: *neither do I* *small shrug* You could ask her?
Terrence: *thinks for a few moments, staring down at his own mug of tea* I...don't want her to hear through a third party or the rumor mill once Zef and I start dating. So...maybe it's best that I do tell her myself.
T’Pah: I assume she would hear about it sooner or later. Due to the nature of living in a narrow habitat.
Terrence: *small smile* She would. *takes a deep breath* Okay. So...I at least know I don't need to feel guilty. I can move on. It's okay if I do, because me and Molly's lives are separate now, it's what we both agreed to.
T’Pah: Yes.
Terrence: *nods slowly* Thanks T'Pah. I just...needed to talk it through with you to help me see it...not with my feelings in the way.
T’Pah: I live to serve.
Terrence: *laughs* And to learn.
T’Pah: *nods* Learning, however, seems to be a requirement to be of better service.
Terrence: Mm, maybe that's true. *smiles* Thanks for learning about me, T'Pah.
T’Pah: You are welcome. *picks up her PADD, that she had put down in her lab, looking at him questioningly*
Terrence: *grins* Time to learn about this Strange Case of a certain Dr. Jekyll and one Mr. Hyde?
T’Pah: *nods* By Robert Louis Stevenson. *reads from the cover* *there, she learned a thing*
Terrence: *grin gets even broader* *cracks open his book to a spot he'd marked to talk about*
[So they discussed the book and made comparisons between it and the versions Zef and Terrence turned into, and drank tea.]
II.
Leslie: *has claimed a couch on the O-Deck, stretched out on it, and intended to do constructive things, but instead managed to fall asleep with her head lolling to the side against the backrest*
Zef: *exhales when he reaches the turbolift without any notable interruptions from others, leans against the wall during the long journey upwards and sighs with relief, that wasn't too bad; enters the O-Deck soon after, carrying a PADD; wearing some comfortable civvies* … *seems empty... walks over to the couches and only now spots Leslie* …! *stops hesitatingly*
Leslie: *isn't able to hear exclamation points and remains le asleep*
Zef: *blinks and figures that she must be asleep... but he's glad to see her although she's asleep (or maybe because she's asleep, he can't tell, but in any case he's glad to see her, he missed her)* *stands watching her for a short while, undecided if to stay or go... until he forgets that he's holding a PADD* ..!! *startles when he notices it slipping off his fingers and tries to catch it... and manages eventually, but not without making some noises of muffled curses and effort – the sort of thing that happens when you /don't/ want to make any noise...*
Leslie: *Zef's fumbling alerts her to the presence of someone else, so she slowly blinks awake, starting to smile when she sees it's Zefram, then oh. It's Zefram. No smiling.* *Crap* Hey. *sits up a bit, voice still a bit sleepy, and rubs her face*
Zef: *she smiled! She smiled! Then she probably woke up fully and... but she smiled!* Hey. Erm. I was, I almost dropped this. *meaning the PADD* Sorry. *o__o; for waking you up and everything else, well probably not /everything/ else, but can't we make this right somehow...?*
Leslie: *pulls her legs closer to her, so they're bent up, and wrinkles her forehead* How long have you been standing there?
Zef: *thinks about it, but doesn't know* Not... very long. *that sounds about right* Long enough to find out if you're awake or not.
Leslie: So you weren't watching me like a creep or anything like that.
Zef: *quick headshake* No. No, I wasn't. I wouldn't. I didn't want to wake you up, but if you were awake I'd have said 'hi', so... I tried to figure that out.
Leslie: How to wake me up without waking me up. Sounds interesting.
Zef: I didn't want to wake you up... I just almost dropped my PADD. *o_o;*
Leslie: You said.
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah... *looks at said PADD* So... do you want me to go? *eyes her carefully*
Leslie: I'm not sure. *has been stalling that decision* *pauses and tilts her head* I think you can stay for now. Wanna sit?
Zef: *relieved, she didn't say no* Yeah, sure. *brief ghost of a smile, heads for a couch, when he sits down the smile is gone again, looks thoughtful*
Leslie: *there was room on her couch* *but maybe he doesn't want to sit with her* *angles herself so she can look at him without stretching* So. How have you been?
Zef: *he does but he's insecure and wants to give her some space* *shifts to the end of the couch that's closest to her couch* Oh. Well, the past two weeks were kinda, I felt pretty good. The people I beat up didn't. And turning back sucked badly.
Leslie: *nods* Are you okay now?
Zef: Officially, yes. Unofficially... *pause, because how to say this best* I'm sorting things out, but it will take a while. Being Hyde was kinda really intense, different from other Zef-versions I've been and, well. But I left my quarters, so I'd say I'm okay enough.
Leslie: Progress has been made.
Zef: *nods* Yeah, I guess. What about you? How have you been?
Leslie: *shrugs* Pretty okay. That version of Leslie wasn't...too much of a stretch of the imagination. *makes a face* It'll just be weird between me and a few other crewmembers for awhile...so um. Well. I missed you. *good job Leslie best segue ever*
Zef: *o_o* I missed you, too. *nodnod* It's good to see you, really. And talk.
Leslie: Yeah. Except I don't want to talk. Well. I mean, I'd rather not talk about /that/ *The Thing .__.* if that's okay with you. Like ever. If we could somehow magically avoid it, I'd like that. *Iwannabefriendsbuthowcanweifthere'sthat* *soitdoesn'texist*
Zef: *yes let's just ignore it, if we both ignore it then it never happened right? Can't things work like that...?* Oh... yeah, me too. I'd like that, too. But if we don't talk about it, I mean... I'd rather not talk about it, but I'm no magician...
Leslie: Well, yes, /but/. I don't know about you but talking about it just makes me upset and not want to talk to you, and funny thing, but I really like you, so I wanna keep you around. *runs a hand through her hair* Do you see?
Zef: *nods slowly* Yeaah... I guess I do. I... don't want to upset you. But if we don't talk, then, well. It's not one of those things where you just wait for a while and eventually the problem solves itself, right? *please say I'm wrong, we just have to wait for a bit and we'll be good, I wanna be wrong o_o;*
Leslie: *but see maybe the problem will go away and you'll get smart and realize you're wrong* If we have to, I guess we have to, but I really really don't want to. There are other things to talk about.
Zef: Well... yeah, there are other things to talk about. But I upset you. So somewhere I went wrong. *other than having The Thing in the first place, I guess it was also about the things I've said or how I said them* And I'd like to make that right, if I can. But I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to. I don't want to. I could make it worse, I'm not good at discussions. But then I can't make it right.
Leslie: Where you went wrong is someplace where I have no business in, and it's not something you're going to change, so how would you make it right?
Zef: Well... I'm not sure if I can. But when we talked about the whole thing I might have made it worse with what I said. *helpless shrug*
Leslie: Who knows. It's not a good situation in the first place.
Zef: I guess... *looks out of the window, is stuck*
Leslie: I'm sorry. *this shouldn't be so difficult*
Zef: *sighs quietly, looks at her* Yeah, me too. *no, it shouldn't*
Leslie: Can I come over there?
Zef: *nodnod* Sure, yeah. *ghost of a smile* Of course.
Leslie: *quick smile, oh and then it's gone* I wasn't sure. Since you sat there. *gets up and moves over to sit next to him*
Zef: Oh... well, yeah. I was just insecure. But I want to sit with you. *turns towards her*
Leslie: *that makes her feel better* Thanks.
Zef: I really missed you. *o_o* Oh. And I'm really glad you're okay, I mean, okay after the latest mind twist. *meaning, he's glad she wasn't harmed badly or worse* Not eaten.
Leslie: I missed you too...wait. Why would I be eaten?
Zef: *slight shrug* Eaten. Bewitched. Stabbed. You know... the common issues.
Leslie: Oh! *crooked smile* Yeah, none of that. I'm glad you're okay, too.
Zef: *smiles carefully* I spent two nights in the brig, though.
Leslie: Did you? *raises an eyebrow* That misbehaved, huh?
Zef: Well, I had fun. But I attacked Glinn Roca and that didn't go well. Turns out, she's a better fighter.
Leslie: You don't say.
Zef: A shock, I know. *except not*
Leslie: Were you hurt?
Zef: *headshake* The fight didn't even take a minute...
Leslie: *snorts, amused*
Zef: *slight careful smile* I guess I've had more fights in the last two weeks than in my entire life. *or not, but he's had a lot of fights and what even is accuracy*
Leslie: And you're still alive, too. *shakes her head* Maybe soon you'll be picking fights with everybody. A real menace.
Zef: I don't think I will. I remembered that I mind pain and if you end up in a fight, it's likely that you get hurt. It's funny how a point of view can change so quickly...
Leslie: Yes, that is strange.
Zef: Yeah, really. *o__o; I still like you, though* So... so my wrath won't hit anyone.
Leslie: How fortunate. I don't think I'd be able to beat you if it came to a fight.
Zef: No one would be able to stop me, if I tried.
Leslie: Because you're too tough for anyone to take. *nod, nod*
Zef: Of course. *coughs* I let Glinn Roca win, you know. I wanted to see the brig. I hadn't before.
Leslie: Very strategic of you. Much better than just asking for a tour.
Zef: *nods* Yeah, tours are lame. But I got to stay for two nights. And kept people busy. Because I was having so much fun with the forcefield.
Leslie: I'm sure you did.
Zef: Yeah, it was... quite thrilling.
Leslie: Did you have fun?
Zef: Well, no. *brief headshake* I mean, who'd like being locked in? But I didn't feel well at all. Not alive. It confused and then annoyed my Hyde-mind. So... the forcefield was the next best thing to blame, because the Security officer was hesitant to come in when I asked.
Leslie: Oh, of course.
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah. *but now it's Zef's mind again, just Zef's o_o;* *nods slowly* Right...
Leslie: But you're not him anymore.
Zef: *sighs quietly, nods again* Yeah, right. I'm not him anymore. I'm Zefram. *nodnodnod* I know, it's just, sometimes it's still weird. *sometimes I'm still crazy*
Leslie: Yeah, I know. It's weird for me, too.
Zef: Like... do you mix things up? Sometimes.
Leslie: Ehhhhh *awkward* Not so much this time around. But it's still weird. *because of reasons*
Zef: Oh... yeah, I guess there are many reasons for why it's still weird. Just many.
Leslie: Yup.
Zef: Yeahh... I hope that's gonna stop soon.
Leslie: It probably will. It always does.
Zef: I guess you're right.
Leslie: Of course I'm right. *draws herself up* I'm an experienced officer.
Zef: I wouldn't doubt it.
Leslie: You better not. I didn't do all this work for nothing.
Zef: No, you didn't. If I have doubts in anyone, it's myself.
Leslie: Now that's just sad.
Zef: But nothing new. *clueless shrug*
Leslie: It's still sad.
Zef: It's not so bad this time, though. For my level of confusion, I mean. I'm outside my quarters, so that's something. *shifts posture slightly*
Leslie: Out of your quarters and not in Sickbay.
Zef: *nods* That, too. I can even have conversations with people. Almost like a sane reasonable person.
Leslie: Amazing.
Zef: Yeah. See? Not so bad. *aside form everything that's f... bad, you know*
Leslie: I do see. *and there's so much bad but it's better to just keep quiet*
Zef: *would talk about it but a) she doesn't want to and b) chances are he'd make it worse and they'd end up not wanting to see each other ever again, so this is better than that...* Yeah... Well, I know you do. You know me.
Leslie: Yeah, I guess you do. And I do. *sits back with a disgruntled look on her face* *I know you, or I thought I did*
Zef: *nodnod* Yeah. *and then he was out of words*
Leslie: *is quiet for about a minute* You were right. I am angry at you. *out of the blue comment is out of the blue* *and totally not referencing a conversation they had weeks ago nooooo*
Zef: *startles, swallows o_______o; Did they not agree on not talking about it? Heisn'treadyforthiswhynowhy!* *nods silently, he remembers that conversation, even that it happened in the current reality version, it's quite clear for some reason...*
Leslie: *breathes* I know you think you're right, and I'm wrong, and maybe that's so *but psh unlikely* but you really pissed me off when you said you know Terrence. Because I knew him too. I spent time getting to know him, I talked with him, he was my best friend. Molly knew him longer than I did, they dated, they were engaged, they got married, they fought, and your reasoning for why she and I couldn't stay with him while you could, was that "you know him", which totally invalidates all the effort we put into our respective relationships with him, which is /really/ /fucking/ /pretentious/ of you. We knew him too, and just because you think you know him and you can get along with him doesn't mean that we didn't. So first of all, how dare you. *breathes again*
Zef: *inhales slowly and basically holds is breath while he listens, except he doesn't but it feels like it*
Leslie: And I know I said I didn't want to talk about it and we agreed, but it's been really bothering me, and I'm sorry.
Zef: *stiff headshake* No... no, is okay. *is honest, just somewhat startled and tensed*
Leslie: Okay. *nods slowly and lets out a breath, waiting to see if he has something to say about her rant*
Zef: Okay. Erm. Do you want to go on? If not, I will. *try to reply*
Leslie: No, that's enough for now.
Zef: *breathes deeply, nodding (and crap, she said “for now”), looks outside window for a moment, then closes his eyes for another moment and eventually looks at her, but takes a deep breath before he replies* Okay. So... I did not mean to invalidate your effort or Molly's. But I guess I felt like /my/ effort was invalidated. I felt like you're thinking that I have no idea what I'm getting into. But I do. I put effort in this and I am not blind. So I said 'I know him', because I do. Maybe I should say 'I know him differently'.
Leslie: That's a little better. *not much*
Zef: What would be even better?
Leslie: *rubs her forehead* Maybe not anything about how you know him at all, but rather just how you think you can make it work. *pause* Actually, nothing you can say is going to make me happy because I hate the ba-...boy, but that's fairly close.
Zef: *takes a deep breath* How I... think I can make it work? It? What it?
Leslie: Whatever it is you have with him.
Zef: Well, what we have /is/ working. *I don't have to make it work* So far. I mean. *shrugs, more insecurely, calmer* Everything can go wrong, for whatever reason... I can try to explain why I think it's working, though.
Leslie: Thanks, but I'd rather you didn't. Unless you think you need to. *as an afterthought*
Zef: Isn't that what you wanted me to explain...? *confused*
Leslie: Did I?
Zef: I thought you did... when I asked you what reply would have been better than mine. But yeah, we can make it work out. It is working out. And I don't need to tell you why, if you'd rather not hear it. I thought asked.
Leslie: *shakes her head* I'd rather not. I'll just disagree and neither of us needs that.
Zef: *nods* Okay. Yeah. Anyway, I didn't want to offend you.
Leslie: Thank you. I didn't mean to leave that for so long.
Zef: Never mind.
Leslie: *stays quiet*
Zef: *stares out of the window, eyes slightly narrow, thinking*
Leslie: I um. That's all I have to say for now. *are we still okay* *or maybe okay* *or just anything other than through* *stares out the window too*
Zef: *keeps staring out of the window for another few seconds, then looks at her and nods* Okay. I don't have anything to add. Or say. Thanks for telling me, though.
Leslie: Yeah. *sinks down in her seat because she is a child*
Zef: *hesitates, but finally grabs his PADD and gets up* Do you think “I'll see you around” works this time? *I hope so o__o; but now I have to go, like really...*
Leslie: *shakes her head* I think I like "see you later" better? *looks up at him uncertainly*
Zef: *thinks briefly* Yeah. *nods* I'd like that. See you later, Leslie. And... and sorry. *but I should go before I snap at you or yell and it wouldn't be fair, I'd say things I'd deeply regret...*
Leslie: Yeah, same. About both. Bye Zefram. *gives him a very worked-at smile, meaning it's not very good at all*
Zef: *for a second he tries to smile back, but it'd be artificial and he doesn't want to lie like this, so he simply nodnods* Bye Leslie. *heads for the turbolift and leaves the O-Deck*
Leslie: *slides down even lower in her seat and wishes she hadn't woken up*
III.
Erik: *staring pensively into space on the O-deck. His hands are behind his back, one hand white-knucled around the other's wrist.*
Fallan: *He walks by, involved with a PADD, but he stops when he notices Erik. Dear god, this man is so tense you could probably pluck him like a harp string. Maybe it's because of the recent costume thing...? He'd like to leave him alone, but genuine concern keeps him there.* Young man, are you well...?
Erik: *turns, and faces Fallan* Oh. Pardon. *the moment he turns away from the viewport, some of the tension leaves his body* I'm weller than I have been in the past, anyhow.
Fallan: *How peculiar. He makes a mental note of it...* You are sure? You appeared to be ready to strike something.
Erik: *Jerks his head back at the window* I've, ah, developed somewhat of a phobia of... space. I'm trying to fight it. I've been told Starfleet operates in space.
Fallan: *He stares at the space outside the window. Yeah, he's about 99.99% sure that Starfleet operates in space. He is a scientist, he knows these things. He keeps his snark to himself...* Well, that's an interesting phobia to develop. Do you mind if I ask how it came about? If it makes you feel uncomfortable, you are not obligated to answer. *He walks over to stand by Erik's side.*
Erik: *grins at him* Most every bad thing that's ever happened to me has happened in space. *sighs* With those damn, uncaring stars staring down, like a million eyes. A million worlds. Trillions of beings... teeming. Hating. It's like looking at your skin under a microscope and realizing your very body is a zoo. *flaps a hand* I'm making no sense. The fear is complex.
Fallan: No, you are making sense. *He nods. Poor guy, it sounds like he's really struggling too...Though what in the world is he doing on a /space/ ship?* May I have your name?
Erik: Erik: I'm Erik. Erik Schroding. *offers a hand* Communications. I've been on this ship for too damn long.
Fallan: *He shakes his hand. Fallan's got a strong grip.* I am Fallan-Ra-Gensolli. I'm in Sciences, as you can see. I'm still new here. You are very brave for facing your phobia head on, you know.
Erik: I'm an idiot. *his grip is neither crushing nor loose.* Sciences, huh? *he can't help but notice the ensign tabs, but decides not to say anything* Good. We can always use more science knowledge. Maybe next time we get transformed into fish or something, you'll fix it in half a week, instead of a full week.
Fallan: *He chuckles and cracks a small smile. He's trying to change the topic of conversation, but something about the self depreciating comment sounds so painfully familiar.* Well, I'll do what I can to save the fish-crew, despite my love for fish dishes. But--what makes you think you're an idiot, if you'll allow me to ask.
Erik: I'm still here, aren't I? *shrugs* Everyone on this ship is an idiot. Everyone who's bothered to actually read our mission logs, anyways.
Fallan: Well, I'll take that as a compliment. *Despite the fact it's not one at all. Deep breath, hold, release...* It's true this ship appears to have a track record worthy of an Earth sitcom. It sounds to me like you'd like to leave, am I correct?
Erik: Mm. A good question. I've been asking it myself, lately. There is nothing I would love... or fear... more than leaving.
Fallan: You would fear leaving? Why is this?
Erik: Well, my friends would not leave with me. And I've saved all their lives... well. Multiple times. Ergo, if I leave, they die. Hm?
Fallan: I understand. You have a purpose here, then, and a very good one at that. It seems to me like you're faced with a very hard decision, then...
Erik: Quite. Tear out my heart for the sake of my heart...
Fallan: I understand. *He nods. This whole time, he's been watching out the window, but now he turns to glance at Erik. He feels real sympathy for the guy. He lets some silence pass as he thinks about what to say.* I'm sure you'd rather not hear more advice and opinions from someone else, so I won't give any unless you ask. *He sighs,* That's a very heavy weight to be carrying around.
Erik: Oh, by all means, give advice. I'm always willing to listen to advice.
Fallan: You are sure? I can be a bit of a windbag.
Erik: Ah, I like windbags. By all means, ensign, blow me away.
Fallan: Well. As I've said, you're brave for standing here. You stare your fear down, that's more than most will do. Second...there is nothing wrong with being afraid. It's easy to fall into the habit of beating yourself up for it, mentally, but it's a perfectly natural reaction. I'm sure you've been told that before by someone at least once, but it is important enough to be said again. Thirdly--the trick to anxiety and fear is that they convince you that it is impossible or difficult to overcome. It seems like to stay in space would be to tear your heart out. Fear is not permanent, it does not rule you. If you trust in your strength to overcome your problems, you will.
Erik: Oh, no, it's literally going to tear my heart out. I can't survive every time. And even when I do, a little bit more of my sanity is chipped away every time, never to be recovered. *he sighs* It's not a question of if, it's a question of when. *he turns and looks out into space, then shudders and jerks his gaze away* Every time I lose a piece of myself, the void creeps in a bit more. *he touches his chest* I can feel it inside here. That emptiness. The cold, glittering stars.
Fallan: *Okay now he's just talking about things that Fallan doesn't understand all the way. He almost thinks to ask Erik if he's been drinking. He takes a moment to think this over. Damn, why didn't he take psychology?* It sounds as if you're feeling less than whole. I'm sure your therapist has mentioned things that might help you. Have you tried any of them?
Erik: My dear ensign, I have tried everything. *claps him on the back* I'm afraid I must leave for my shift. See you around.
Fallan: *Why is he calling him ensign and not his name? And why is he touching him? No, it's okay, calm down. He nods and folds his hands in front of him to watch the stars.* Enjoy your shift, then. I apologize for talking your ears off, as the phrase goes.
Erik: You did nothing wrong! *vanishes through the door*
IV.
Molly: *has taken to hanging out in one of the rec rooms when she's off duty and doesn't feel like being in her quarters, and is there now attempting to play a racing game and resolving never to fly a shuttle*
Leslie: *walking past the rec room after leaving the O-Deck; not quite ready to go to her room, but not sure where to go, so she's wandering around, and glances in the rec room as she walks past, stopping when she sees Molly inside and stands in the doorway, debating on whether or not to talk to said redhead*
Molly: *hears the door open and pauses her game to glance backwards* Hey Leslie! *on screen, her vehicle has just crashed into a truly glorious fireball*
Leslie: Hey. Did I make you do that?
Molly: *looks back at the screen and sighs* No. I'm just a really bad driver, apparently.
Leslie: *looks back at the screen, too* Remind me to never let you take pilot.
Molly: I'm just figuring that out, too. Though I'm sure an actual helm is different from a controller, you know? *tosses said controller to the side* What's up?
Leslie: We can only hope. *steps inside to let the door close* Oh, not too much. Just a bit restless so I'm not sure what to do with myself tonight.
Molly: Want to race me and watch me accidentally blow things up? *pats the seat next to her on the couch*
Leslie: Sure. *steps over and sits down on the couch, grabbing a controller* I'll probably crash into you.
Molly: That's fine. *picks up her own controller again and goes back to the main menu to add another player* *waits until Leslie is looking at the screen, then gives her a side glance to see if Leslie is showing any signs of Angry or Sad or Depressed or the other various prominent Leslie emotions*
Leslie: *mostly just looks concentrated on the game* You're definitely gonna crash if you do that a lot.
Molly: Do what a lot? *adds the other player and starts a new race*
Leslie: Look at me.
Molly: Well I had to figure out if there's something wrong, didn't I? Or you could just tell me. *looks back at the screen as the race starts*
Leslie: Would that mean you instantly press me for information and need to make sure I'm okay? *starts off the race with a glorious beginning by weaving back and forth and an inability to maintain altitude*
Molly: *has gotten the hang of the beginning by now at least and takes off ahead of Leslie* Ummm.... maybe? No? Only if you want? *one of those is surely the right answer*
Leslie: *wry smirk* That's a lot of options.
Molly: Three isn't /so/ many. Shit! *throws her whole body to the side (away from Leslie) to avoid an obstacle*
Leslie: *laughs* It's enough. And right now, I'd rather you didn't.
Molly: Okay whatever. *a little miffed that whenever something happens to Leslie she refuses to open up or share* *wants to help but is never given information on how*
Leslie: I don't know exactly what's up, and I don't know how to articulate it, so it's better to just leave it alone until I do.
Molly: Well it's not like you tell me about it once you've figured it out either. *avoids the obstacle she crashed on last time* Yesssss.
Leslie: I do if it's important.
Molly: Alright. *button mashes around another obstacle and then flies straight into the next one* Goddammit.
Leslie: *chortles* You go too fast...says me who is three kilometers behind you.
Molly: Brakes are for wussies. *waits for her vehicle to reload and takes off again*
Leslie: Are you calling me a wussy?
Molly: Are you losing?
Leslie: I haven't crashed.
Molly: Are you losing? The answer is yes.
Leslie: Yes. I am losing.
Molly: Are you using your brakes?
Leslie: No, I'm just not zooming ahead with abandon.
Molly: But life's more fun that way.
Leslie: That's how you make mistakes Molly. *almost crashes into the obstacle that Molly crashed into earlier* Fuuuuucccccccckkkkk.
Molly: Yeah we all know I make plenty of those. *mutters*
Leslie: Do you?
Molly: Take a look at my life, Leslie, and you tell me. *bashes her vehicle against something but manages not to blow it up this time*
Leslie: Hmm, yes, Starfleet. Tragic mistake. Also becoming friends with me. Really, what were you thinking?
Molly: *rolls her eyes* Yeah, the two biggest mistakes of my life, right there.
Leslie: Toldja.
Molly: How did we even become friends anyway I don't even remember.
Leslie: I think you learned some deep tragic backstory of mine, also there was nobody else interesting in our department.
Molly: Did I bug you until you told me? That sounds like me.
Leslie: You did.
Molly: I'd say I'm sorry but I'm really not.
Leslie: I know. *pauses as she concentrates on not hitting things* Personally, I think it's because you got so tired of refereeing fights between me and the department that you just finally befriended me.
Molly: You and the department meaning you and people /in/ the department?
Leslie: No, I mean the office itself. Me and the consoles duked it out once or twice.
Molly: Luckily I wasn't there to see that, I'm very fond of my consoles.,
Leslie: I always made sure you were gone first.
Molly: *stops paying close enough attention and drives into a wall* Gah. Anyway, whatever it was, I'm glad we're friends. Even though you're really freaking closed off most of the time.
Leslie: I'm glad, too. And I do tell you the important stuff. Just like you tell me.
Molly: I tell you /all/ the stuff I'm basically incapable of keeping my troubles to myself around you. It's like the fountain opens up and all my issues spill forth in a torrent of- MOTHERFUCKING SHIT *blows up*
Leslie: Well if you wanna put it like that...
Molly: At least tell me if it's Erik this time. *needs to anticipate him moping*
Leslie: I haven't seen or talked to Erik.
Molly: *must be Zef then* Okay. *finally crosses the finish line* Ahh yes I win. And totally not because I played this course sixteen times before you came in.
Leslie: I'm sure it was your natural talent and finesse. *sets down her controller and leans back*
Molly: Yeah, clearly. *tosses her own controller down too and watches the victory screen* I'm pretty good at soccer, that totally translates to this right?
Leslie: Absolutely. Balls, flying things, they're practically identical.
Molly: Soccer balls fly through the air when you kick them correctly. So yeah, totally identical.
Leslie: Told ya.
Molly: Anyway. Do you want a sleepover or no? I've got booze. *stocked up on the station* *has a huge hoard now*
Leslie: I'm always up for booze if you're up for sharing.
Molly: Of course I'm up for sharing. Drinking alone is lame and weepy. Come on. *turns off the tv and stands*
Leslie: *stands, too* So I don't have to worry about you getting wasted alone in your room and suffocating on your own vomit, huh. Convenient.
Molly: Oh my god that's disgusting. What.
Leslie: You don't drink alone.
Molly: I try not to, no.
Leslie: So I don't have to worry about your alcohol-induced death. Is all I'm saying.
Molly: No, you don't. That kind of death I should avoid. All the other kinds, that's still up in the air. *heads out of the rec room, assuming Leslie will follow*
Leslie: I'm so relieved. That totally narrows it down.
Molly: Cross one off a list of hundreds, yeah. Totally narrowed down.
Leslie: Helpful. *is following, for the record*
Molly: Personally I think at some point my luck is just gonna run out.
Leslie: It does seem that way.
Molly: *glares* You're not supposed to agree. You're supposed to tell me I'll live a long and prosperous life.
Leslie: But you're thirty-one you should have done that already.
Molly: Wow. I changed my mind, you can't drink with me.
Leslie: Ouch.
Molly: Rule number one of drinking with me, don't remind me how old I am.
Leslie: What, twenty-five?
Molly: Har har de har har.
Leslie: Okay I won't. Promise.
Molly: I feel like there should be more rules than that but I haven't figured them out yet.
Leslie: Tell me when you learn them.
Molly: I'm sure I'll think of more once I start drinking. *by the power of magical walking, they are at Molly's quarters and she opens the door* *inside it's kinda messy, she's just been dropping stuff everywhere and there are blankets and pillows all over the floor so she can just drop anywhere she wants*
Leslie: I love what you've done with the place.
Molly: Oh thanks. I've been brushing up on my decorating skills. *makes her way through the piles and to a cupboard that is positively overflowing with alcohol* Any preferences?
Leslie: Whiskey's always good. *so is tequila but let's not get plastered, shall we?*
Molly: You got it. *gets out an unopened bottle and two glasses and weaves her way back to the couch, setting everything on the coffee table*
Leslie: *finds a place to sit and sets herself down before hopping back up again and going to the replicator* Want anything?
Molly: No thanks. *pours herself a glass, kicks off her boots, and sits cross-legged on the couch*
Leslie: Okay. *makes herself a bowl of ice cream and comes back* Thanks for sharing your booze. *sits*
Molly: Anytime. Who else am I gonna drink with, anyway. *straight-shots half the glass, because why not*
Leslie: I dunno. You know lots of people. Maybe you like drinking with them.
Molly: I /know/ lots of people. Doesn't mean I'm comfortable enough to drink with them.
Leslie: I'm flattered, then. *takes a few sips of her drink*
Molly: Just telling you though, if you get plastered I'm not letting you out of here until morning.
Leslie: I'll be fine. Probably won't get plastered.
Molly: But if you do.
Leslie: Understood.
Molly: I also promise to try and not prod you for information. But once /I/ get drunk all promises go out the window. *tips back the rest of the glass and then refills it*
Leslie: I acknowledge the risks, and accept them.
Molly: Even though I can be really nosy?
Leslie: I know you well enough by now I hope. *decides to just pour the whiskey on her ice cream, mix it in, and eat it that way* I can deal.
Molly: I guess that's true.
Leslie: Don't judge me.
Molly: This is a judgement free zone. I have pillows all over my floor so I can nap wherever I want. That's how judgement free this zone is.
Leslie: I like that sort of zone. I may implement it, so I can collapse anywhere I want.
Molly: It's really nice if you just want to stop doing things you can just stop and drop.
Leslie: So few people realize that. *spoons up her ice cream/booze mix and starts eating it at a rapid pace*
Molly: How's Terminator doing?
Leslie: Not as fat. I put my foot down and she is eating only lean cuisine.
Molly: There's diet food for animals?
Leslie: Oh, yeah. A whole industry.
Molly: Can't you just give your pet.. less food? Or exercise them?
Leslie: /I/ could, but my mother will not. And one does not simply exercise Terminator. She does whatever she pleases.
Molly: Can't you put cats on treadmills or something? I swear I've seen a video like that.
Leslie: *sighs* My mother will not, and she is responsible for my cat's care.
Molly: Then get Terminator a new caretaker.
Leslie: *snorts* Who? The twins are in college, Elyse has a teenager to control, and I think my sister-in-law is either allergic or afraid. It gives my mom something to take care of, albeit badly.
Molly: Well, I'm sure the diet will help. She'll live a long and grouchy life.
Leslie: She will. And then I'll retire and she'll live with me and we'll be grouchy together.
Molly: How soon are you planning on retiring? *on her third glass*
Leslie: I think sixty is a nice number. *finishes her ice cream and just goes for a glass this time*
Molly: I hate to break it to you, but I don't think even the healthiest of cats live past thirty.
Leslie: Terminator is a special cat.
Leslie: Terminator is a special cat.
Molly: Okay Leslie. When you're sixty you'll retire with your cat. I'd join you, but I'll probably be dead.
Leslie: You're like, a year older than me.
Molly: Yeah but my luck is fucking awful.
Leslie: I'll try not to let you die.
Molly: Well you're a doctor now, so I'm sure that will help.
Leslie: Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.
Molly: Have you not talked to Erik at all? *switches topics fast when she's starting to get tipsy*
Leslie: No, not really. *shakes her head* He was really upset about the breakup, so I didn't really want to trigger anything by initiating conversation.
Molly: I haven't really talked to him either. *sighs* He was really supportive after mine but I tried to stop bothering him after yours since I figured he had enough on his mind.
Leslie: I'm just glad you went to talk to him when it happened.
Molly: *swirls the liquid in her glass* We've been friends for a long time, you know? It's just easy to talk to him. But I have you too, which is great.
Leslie: Girl friend and a friend that can kick ass. Must be great.
Molly: *wryly* Oh yeah my life is super awesome didn't you know?
Leslie: I do know. I wake up in the morning and try to figure out how I can be more like you.
Molly: I'll give you a tip, that's a /terrible/ plan.
Leslie: I dunno, you've got a pretty cool job. And rank.
Molly: You'll get there. You had to concentrate on being a doctor, and now you are one.
Leslie: So...in another *counts on her fingers* nine years I'll get the job I want? Great.
Molly: Hey that still leaves you twenty-one years before retirement.
Molly: Grey hair is inevitable. Grey hair will look good with your hair though, it's so dark.
Leslie: It will stick out and I will look like the table shakers spilled into my hair. *finishes her glass* I like my hair unblemished.
Molly: You could always get it dyed or something.
Leslie: It's crossed my mind.
Molly: I should dye my hair. *thoughtfully*
Leslie: What color?
Molly: Anything not red, really.
Leslie: *studies her* You might pull off brunette.
Molly: Maybe. *waves a hand* I don't know. I'll probably just leave it, as always.
Leslie: I wish I could tell you I was blonde once, but that would be a lie.
Molly: There's still time. You're still young. There's hair dye in the replicator. I think.
Leslie: There is. And bleach. I /did/ bleach the tips in college, but that's as far as I've gone.
Molly: Let's do it. *pours herself another glass and then gets up and heads towards the replicator*
Leslie: What, bleach them again? Or do something to you? *stands because this should be something she's more involved in*
Molly: Dye your whole head. *punching in numbers* Blonde Leslie.
Leslie: What? *splutters* But why?
Molly: *pauses and thinks about it* I don't know. Because it would be cool? *the bottle has a serious in its contents*
Leslie: Okay but we have to do something to your hair too.
Molly: Nope. Absolutely not. *abandons the replicator and starts braiding her hair in self defense*
Leslie: Then no blonde Leslie. That's the deal.
Molly: You're no fun. *comes back to the couch, tying off the end of the braid*
Leslie: I am /lots/ of fun, thank you. You're the one who's boring.
Molly: Just because I don't want someone's hands all over my hair doesn't make me boring. It means I want my hair left alone. *sits back down*
Leslie: *sighs* Okay fine. *pours herself another drink and sips it standing up* Do you think I'd look good blonde?
Molly: I don't know. Don't let me make decisions right now.
Leslie: Right, and you're supposed to be judging how plastered /I/ am?
Molly: I think I'll just go to sleep instead. *moves from the couch to a pile of pillows on the floor* Yeah. Good plan. Best plan I've had in a while.
Leslie: *wait no I was gonna let you dye my hair it's actually a great idea* Okay. Night?
Molly: You can dye your hair in my bathroom if you really want to. But I'm withdrawing from any responsibility.
Leslie: You'll totally miss out. *heads to the replicator*
Molly: If you're mad about it in the morning I want to be able to claim innocence.
Leslie: Boring. Sleep well. *pulls out a pack of dye from the replicator and heads to the bathroom*
Molly: *puts a pillow over her face and mumbles* Please stop calling me boring.
Leslie: You are truly a live wire and your very presence is inspiring.
Molly: Gee thanks.
Leslie: *calls from the bathroom* Any time!
Molly: Don't do anything stupid in there.
Leslie: I'm gonna pierce my navel too. Maybe a tattoo. It's gonna be fun.
Molly: I am not responsible for any of that.
Leslie: You've already said. I think you signed something. Now will you go to sleep so I can put this shit in my hair?
Molly: *puts the pillow on her face again and rolls onto her side*
Leslie: *takes that as a yes and proceeds to dye her hair* *she will regret it in the morning* *but it'll be rad*
Molly: *wakes up in the morning and can't believe she let Leslie do that*
Leslie: *spends the night in Molly's room and wakes up thinking about the same thing*
Molly: *may or may not scream when she wakes up and sees how blonde it is*
Leslie: *dear god do I have to deal with a panic attack*
Molly: *no, just shock*
Leslie: *oh okay*
V.
[Edited as well as flagged for mild sexual content but literally they just make out the only clothing that comes off is Terrence's uglysweater and heaven knows everyone is glad about that.]
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So much relationship drama lately, wow. It's a very good thing we have this intermission, it seems!