driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Tek and anyone!
Broadcast: Video
Action: Beachside lounging
When: Early August

→ video
[the video feed flicks on to the glare of the sun, until the (absurdly) pretty man wielding the device leans back into the shade. he seems to be starting this broadcast mid-thought, and--for anyone who knows him well enough to spot the difference--he's smiling quite easily.]

--Oh, now I remember. I'd wanted to ask if there were any fine metalsmiths in the fleet. I'd intended to ask the next locals we happened across for their services, but... well. Metalworking does not seem to be among their most refined skills.

I'm looking for someone trustworthy and proficient in jewelry-making. I have several options for payment. If interested, please reply.

→ action
[and with that matter done with, he settles back to wait in high comfort. for anyone happening by, he has found the absolute perfect spot along the shoreline. there is a stretch of clean, soft sand with an impeccable view of the ocean, tucked into the patchy, partial shade of a small stand of trees.

and he must be feeling better than usual, because he's actually wearing something that Atroma has given him--gothy-looking shorts that he has drawstringed to hang just a little off his hips--and he is sacrificing multiple layers of beach towels and blankets to the sand. he apparently doesn't care whether or not he'll ever get the sand out of them again.

Tek has made himself the most comfortable basking spot on the planet, and he has left more than enough room for a friend.

he knows that Atroma is messing with his head, but he can't find it within himself to be bothered right now. he even has a little brush and bottle of lovely dark maroon ink that he's staining his nails with. someone is glitched and enjoying every minute of it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Beverly settles in beside him, tucking her feet underneath herself, then leans over to examine his handiwork. Hmm. She holds up one of her hands next to his in comparison. Her nails are neatly trimmed, clean, and utterly boring. Starfleet doesn't exactly go in for brightly painted nails on their officers.]

Where'd you get the ink?

[he finishes the last nail and then holds out his hand for her to compare. his hands--nails, paint, and all--are flawless, of course. when your true form has nothing but massive gnarled talons, you learn to appreciate and take care of little things like that.]

I bartered for it.

[and he wags the bottle at her.] ...You want me to do yours?

[She grins and nods eagerly, thrusting her hands towards him. Yes please!]

I don't even remember the last time I did this...

[he chuckles a little as he sits up and turns closer, getting settled. he pushes the bottle into the hand that he's not about to work on, so she can make herself useful.]

Well, it has obviously been far too long, then.

Seriously... you need a few lessons in treating yourself.

[and, holding her hand still, he begins at her thumb with dainty, perfect strokes.]

[She obligingly takes the bottle in one hand and keeps the other perfectly still while he works.]

It's not about treating myself or not, it's about regulations. Starfleet has rules about this kind of thing, especially for medical personnel.

[Which, honestly, makes sense. Once she gets back to work, she will most likely remove the paint, but for now, while Allen has made her promise to stay away from the clinic, she will take advantage of the opportunity.]

And I have been in Starfleet for over twenty years so...

[Shrug.]

Edited (words are hard red :() 2015-08-07 03:20 (UTC)

[he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, regardless of the fact that she sounds like she has logic on her side.]

Don't you people have... gloves and whatnot? I thought that was the point of them. It seems like you should have invented some way around something like that by now...

[and, as he moves onto the next finger, one point of conversation sticks out in his head, and he gives a short glance up in her direction.]

...And 'Starfleet?' That wouldn't happen to be anything like the Drift Fleet, would it?

[She snorts.]

I did think someone was playing some sort of cruel joke on me when I first arrived. But no, even though I live on a starship at home, Starfleet is nothing like this. We are a voluntary organization of explorers, not a group of kidnapped people serving as entertainment for some unknown audience.

At least you have some experience with the setting, then. That's a benefit that not many of us have.

[he pauses to run a nail along the edge of one of hers, cleaning up a little extra of the ink before it can really get anywhere.]

...And now that you're no longer in your Starfleet, I suppose that means you can lighten up some, hmm?

[he glances up with a short, teasing smile.]

[For a moment, she stiffens at his words, but quickly relaxes when he smiles up at her. Teasing, of course he's teasing. Still, she has to say it:]

Just because I'm here doesn't mean I'm not still in Starfleet. It's not just a job, it's a whole way of life.

Besides, if you think I need to lighten up, you really need to meet some other Starfleet officers. Especially my captain.

[Her tone is arch, but the fondness she feels for Picard is very clear in the way her facial features soften when she talks about him. If Tek's ever going to pry, probably now is the best time, when it's almost impossible for her to feel sad.]

[teasing, always teasing.

and if she hadn't tempted him with something that does seem ripe for prying, he would have honed in on her apparent dedication to her Starfleet. she claims to have no religion, and yet she speaks like that... he'll have to pick at her later about it.

for now, he'll go after the more obvious target.]

Oh, really. There's truly someone worse?

[tell him more.]

[With faux gravity:]

The absolute worse. Not only would he approve of my ugly cat lady sweaters, no doubt he'd knit them himself.

[Her face breaks out in another grin, wide and mischievous.]

But he's not entirely beyond hope. There's some part of him, deep down, that still knows how to have fun.

[and Tek balks with all of the appropriate faux horror.]

Goodness... [he can't help the fact that her sly grin is contagious--especially in this state. he smiles to match.]

And I do hope that you've made it your life's work to help him realize this hidden potential.

Naturally. He's very stubborn you know, but I've gotten through to him. On occasion.

[More than on occasion, Bev. He lets you get away with so much and you don't even notice it.]

You are a hero among your kind.

[he motions for her to switch hands!]

And with all my help, just think of all that you'll learn to take back with you. He won't know what hit him.

[She offers him her other hand and admires his handwork on the first one. It feels strange, seeing her nails painted like that for the first time in what? Twenty, twenty-five years? But it's a good sort of strange. She smiles up at him.]

Oh now, we wouldn't want to give the poor man a heart attack.

... though maybe it would be worth it to see the look on his face if I were to show up in that dress you picked out.

[Oops, did she say that out loud? She flushes a little and looks back down at her nails, glad there is something else to focus on.]

[yes good, he'd been hoping...

he smirks up at her for a quick moment, whether she sees it or not.]

The shock will be good for him, I'm sure.

[Seeing as she is keeping her gaze on their hands, she doesn't catch Tek's smirk, but despite her embarrassment, she can't contain her own smile. Right now, the thought of reuniting with Jean-Luc doesn't fill her with her usual sadness and apprehension.]

I think so, too. [...] Good for both of us.

[and for a minute, he just smiles to himself and busies intently with her nails. it really seems like he might just leave it at that, as he quietly works through his little art project.

but as he finishes up her last finger, just as he's releasing custody of her hand--]

...Is he cute?

[Beverly's content to let him work, happy to not answer any more questions and then...

Really, though, what did she expect?

One eyebrow raised in amusement, she finally looks back up at Tek.]

I don't know that "cute" is the right word to describe Jean-Luc. Handsome, though: yes. Very.

[She grins.]

Of course, I'm biased. He is one of my closest and oldest friends after all.

Edited 2015-08-19 03:39 (UTC)

Sounds like it.

[this comment gets his most mischievous smirk yet.

and just in case she doesn't get what he's implying, he'll offer a suggestive rise of his brows for good measure.]

[Dead eyeing him right now. Of course she knows what he's implying and he's not completely off base. Still.]

Don't give me that look. We've never... [She sighs.] It's complicated.

[Though somehow she suspects Tek won't be as satisfied with that response as Wrath was.]

Edited 2015-08-19 15:51 (UTC)

Of course it is.

[and he settles back again to finish up his own nails, so they can really match.]

That much goes without saying.

[... at least Wrath is direct about these things.]

But you want to know more, I take it?

[if there is one thing that Tek is allergic to, it's talking directly. about anything. ever.]

Don't you want to talk about it?

[he's smirking again, but his eyes are on his nails.]

[Does she want a talk about it? That's a good question. She plucks at one of the blankets, which is starting to pill.]

I don't know.

[Pluck, pluck. These blankets are so terrible. Why can't Atroma give them better ones?]

I miss him. Well, not as much today, but in general.