02-21-2011, 06:17 PM
[as Torin Elano, Chief of Ops USS Braveheart]
USS Braveheart
Personal Quarters
1835 hours
"Will you hurry up please Tor?" asked Rennan Elano, his voice and thoughts both tinged with excitement. The tall, muscular security officer sat at the small table in his and Torin's quarters, drumming his fingers impatiently on the smooth transparent aluminum surface. Rennan had been ready to leave for over half an hour, but of course Torin had to take forever getting ready--checking everything fifteen times before they left. "You do know that this starts at 1900, right? Not a lot of time, love."
"Can I help it if I want to impress my superiors?" said Torin as he exited the bathroom, running a brush through his blonde ponytail. He set the brush down and picked up a small bottle of Deltan cologne, sprayed a small puff into the air then walked into the cloud of scent. "There, I think I'm ready. How do I look?" asked Torin, spinning around in a half-rotation.
"You look fantastic...but my opinion is somewhat biased," said Rennan, standing up from his seated position and taking two steps toward Torin. "One of your pips is crooked, though." Torin's eyes got extremely wide and he began to turn back around toward the bathroom where the mirror was. Rennan grabbed him by the upper arm and gently pulled him away from the door. "Relax Tor. I was kidding."
~You'll pay for that later~ Torin projected to his husband with a slightly mischevious undercurrent in his emotions.
"Oh I will, huh?" said Rennan aloud. Even though they were both Betazoids, Torin and Rennan were polar opposites in their telepathic abilities. Rennan had very limited powers, only able to read surface thoughts and emotions and not even able to communicate telepathically. Torin on the other hand had a Gift so powerful that it almost restricted him from full active duty in Starfleet; without theragenic isocyanate to take a little of the edge off his telepathic powers, Torin would not be able to shut out the thoughts and feelings of others and those thoughts would overwhelm him. "Is this another 'Don't mess with the Diva' situation?"
"I never claimed to be a Diva, love. I just take great pride in my appearance. I hear your thoughts over there, Mister. You're not funny, not funny at all."
"Well...I never wanted a career in comedy anyway. Shall we?" Rennan said, extending his elbow toward his husband. Torin threaded his hand through the crook in Ren's elbow, always grateful for the small chivalrous gestures that Ren did for him. The two walked in companionable silence until they exited the Braveheart and made their way toward the Main Gallery of Starbase Thrinacia. There were going to be literally thousands of people here tonight, so Rennan had an extra hypo filled with the mild telepathic suppressant just in case it was needed. Even though they were slightly early, there were already a lot of people there. Rennan went over to the food tables and surveyed the offerings, pleased with what he saw. There was a good variety of foodstuffs from many different worlds, including live gagh and several other Klingon delicacies. Rennan was also pleased to see one of his favorite dishes from home, Mantickian Pate. In the region of Betazed where he grew up, this particular dish was scarce because of its high preparation cost and the difficulty in finding Mantick livers. Plus, Rennan had come from a rather poor family and they had not been able to afford many delicacies; those that tell you poverty does not exist on Federation core worlds need to only visit the outskirts of the Abkan Lowlands on Betazed. Rennan looked toward Torin, gave an approving nod, and the two of them dispersed throughout the crowd to mingle with others until the ceremonies began.
[open tag]
USS Braveheart
Personal Quarters
1835 hours
"Will you hurry up please Tor?" asked Rennan Elano, his voice and thoughts both tinged with excitement. The tall, muscular security officer sat at the small table in his and Torin's quarters, drumming his fingers impatiently on the smooth transparent aluminum surface. Rennan had been ready to leave for over half an hour, but of course Torin had to take forever getting ready--checking everything fifteen times before they left. "You do know that this starts at 1900, right? Not a lot of time, love."
"Can I help it if I want to impress my superiors?" said Torin as he exited the bathroom, running a brush through his blonde ponytail. He set the brush down and picked up a small bottle of Deltan cologne, sprayed a small puff into the air then walked into the cloud of scent. "There, I think I'm ready. How do I look?" asked Torin, spinning around in a half-rotation.
"You look fantastic...but my opinion is somewhat biased," said Rennan, standing up from his seated position and taking two steps toward Torin. "One of your pips is crooked, though." Torin's eyes got extremely wide and he began to turn back around toward the bathroom where the mirror was. Rennan grabbed him by the upper arm and gently pulled him away from the door. "Relax Tor. I was kidding."
~You'll pay for that later~ Torin projected to his husband with a slightly mischevious undercurrent in his emotions.
"Oh I will, huh?" said Rennan aloud. Even though they were both Betazoids, Torin and Rennan were polar opposites in their telepathic abilities. Rennan had very limited powers, only able to read surface thoughts and emotions and not even able to communicate telepathically. Torin on the other hand had a Gift so powerful that it almost restricted him from full active duty in Starfleet; without theragenic isocyanate to take a little of the edge off his telepathic powers, Torin would not be able to shut out the thoughts and feelings of others and those thoughts would overwhelm him. "Is this another 'Don't mess with the Diva' situation?"
"I never claimed to be a Diva, love. I just take great pride in my appearance. I hear your thoughts over there, Mister. You're not funny, not funny at all."
"Well...I never wanted a career in comedy anyway. Shall we?" Rennan said, extending his elbow toward his husband. Torin threaded his hand through the crook in Ren's elbow, always grateful for the small chivalrous gestures that Ren did for him. The two walked in companionable silence until they exited the Braveheart and made their way toward the Main Gallery of Starbase Thrinacia. There were going to be literally thousands of people here tonight, so Rennan had an extra hypo filled with the mild telepathic suppressant just in case it was needed. Even though they were slightly early, there were already a lot of people there. Rennan went over to the food tables and surveyed the offerings, pleased with what he saw. There was a good variety of foodstuffs from many different worlds, including live gagh and several other Klingon delicacies. Rennan was also pleased to see one of his favorite dishes from home, Mantickian Pate. In the region of Betazed where he grew up, this particular dish was scarce because of its high preparation cost and the difficulty in finding Mantick livers. Plus, Rennan had come from a rather poor family and they had not been able to afford many delicacies; those that tell you poverty does not exist on Federation core worlds need to only visit the outskirts of the Abkan Lowlands on Betazed. Rennan looked toward Torin, gave an approving nod, and the two of them dispersed throughout the crowd to mingle with others until the ceremonies began.
[open tag]