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Second chances... [Jun. 12th, 2009|02:34 pm]
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::draws to halt a few paces away from the main entrance to Starfleet's hub, cocking head to take in building...and remember last occasion for visiting::

::tamps down glare of disgusted indignation with profound effort, tugging at uniform jacket one last time before heading in::

::winces as irony of gesture strikes::

I don't see why we couldn't do this over dinner as well. God knows, I need the comfort food.

From: ezritigandax
2009-06-12 11:07 pm (UTC)
::slumps down on elbow, absent-mindedly bouncing ball off of briefing room table surface with other hand::

::catches wind of disapproving brown eyes half-way down other side, rolling own::

I don't know where he gets this 'rescue Dax' complex from. I was doing just fine.

::bounces a little too hard, sending rubber sphere flying up at a really remarkable velocity::

::gulps, following trajectory::

::sheepishly extends hand, accepting toy back::

Thanks, Admiral.
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[User Picture]From: admiralparis
2009-06-12 11:17 pm (UTC)
::passes Trill after a long, hard stare::

I may just be happy to get these people out of the quadrant at this rate...most of them.

::fidgets somewhat under frown that's a near perfect replica of own, carefully avoiding drawing near dr_moira_paris::

::checks chronometer again::

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From: ezritigandax
2009-06-12 11:23 pm (UTC)
::expels resigned sigh, shoving ball into pants pocket and rocking back into seat::

::waves in direction of intensifying glare::

Shut up, Worf. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm still civilian. I'll be nervous any way I like.
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From: wesleyrcrusher
2009-06-12 11:27 pm (UTC)
::actually jumps when former crewmate emits a low growl::

Must be nice to be the only person in the universe who can get away with that...

::quickly looks away when annoyed Klingon eyes switch targets, twisting chair to face Trill::

I don't think we've really been introduced.
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From: ezritigandax
2009-06-12 11:30 pm (UTC)
::stops chair-stressing motion::

::twists as well, eyeing neighbor speculatively:

Yeah, well, I think you know the basics. I used to be his wife, but we don't really talk about that for several reasons, most perfectly sensible.

Oh. And I kinda killed your mother.

You still want to chat?
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From: wesleyrcrusher
2009-06-12 11:36 pm (UTC)
And she was a therapist?

::looks to Klingon::

::takes cue::

Maybe later.

::turns other way::

Wesley Crusher.
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From: lt_asil
2009-06-12 11:39 pm (UTC)
::arches brow::

I am aware of your identity, Lieutenant.
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From: wesleyrcrusher
2009-06-12 11:55 pm (UTC)
From anyone besides a Vulcan, I might be flattered.


Just being polite.
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From: lt_asil
2009-06-12 11:59 pm (UTC)
And I was merely stating fact.

::makes effort to soften expression to a more emotional and therefore more human-appropriate form, since previous calm seemed to cause offense::
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From: wesleyrcrusher
2009-06-13 12:08 am (UTC)
A smart-assed Vulcan. Why is it always a smart-assed Vulcan?

::straightens, on to a potential challenge::

And I know for a fact that Vulcans have names too.

Care to share, in the name of universal good manners?
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From: lt_asil
2009-06-13 12:11 am (UTC)
::examines him, disconcerted by flare of...amusement?...threatening to burble up::

The one you are least likely to maul in translation is Asil.

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From: ezritigandax
2009-06-13 01:10 am (UTC)
::doesn't bother trying to figure out when and why worf_rozhenko abandoned seat to come stand by own and glower, just punches a fist into his brawny arm::

::swallows an ow!, leaning over to whisper instead::

Isn't that sweet, Worf? I think they already like each other!

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From: worf_rozhenko
2009-06-13 01:14 am (UTC)

::bends slightly, sniffing::

You are inebriated.
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From: ezritigandax
2009-06-13 01:36 am (UTC)
...well, you didn't think I'd make it here sober, did you?

::waves hand again in unheeded dismissal::
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From: worf_rozhenko
2009-06-13 01:40 am (UTC)
::clamps fist over Trill's infinitely more frail one, locking it to table::

::sighs when further lecture is interrupted by door opening::

::draws to full height, offering equally reproving look to old crewmates::

You are late.
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