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side-sim: Apples to Oranges? (Tag Argimeau)

Posted July 24, 2021, 3:24 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Namid Argimeau (Scientific Intelligence Officer) (Trinity Fister)

Posted by Civilian Revna Freya McKenzie (Diplomatic Attache) in side-sim: Apples to Oranges? (Tag Argimeau)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Namid Argimeau (Scientific Intelligence Officer) in side-sim: Apples to Oranges? (Tag Argimeau)

Posted by Civilian Revna Freya McKenzie (Diplomatic Attache) in side-sim: Apples to Oranges? (Tag Argimeau)
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(SNIP)

“I can get behind that,” a touch of sincerity met their eyes. “Where are you from.. before all this Starfleet and diplomatic business?”

— Namid Argimeau, Scientific Intel

“I am from Bømlo. It’s a little island off the coast of Norway in the North Sea on Earth. If you were to visit, the last place you would expect to find me is out here amongst the stars with all this technology and advancement. We live very old fashioned there. We follow the old ways and everything we have we make for ourselves. And in small subtle ways you’ll find modern technology in places. For instance my father and uncle operate a brewery and everything is made as it was centuries ago. But my younger sister is our historian and the archives are a modern marvel in order to protect the documents and artifacts stored there. I like to think we have the best of both, our history and our present. And what about you? Where did you start out?”
McKenzie, DA

Namid’s coal-black eyes glistened just imagining the island, Bømlo, she described. They weren’t aware of many settlements entirely devoted to inherited customs and virtues. Even the Argimeau family, who cherished the traditions that tethered them to their ancestors, succumbed to the modern way of life. But more than the lifestyle was the history. Oh, what they would give to listen to or read about it. “Bømlo sounds marvellous,” Namid’s lips curved into a smile, “what was your favourite place or trait of the island?”

Revna grinned, “I think so. Oh wow so my favorite trait would have to be the people. They are feirce and protective and welcoming. And there was always someone around to teach you something new. My favorite place would have to be the fjord on the North Eastern coast of the island. It’s incredibly deep and the water is the most amazing shade of cobalt blue.”

Namid’s smile never faded as they remained wholly engrossed in Revna’s words. The fjord seemed enchanting in a regally enigmatic kind of way that commanded awe and reverence. And her people… Namid had a feeling they were delightful, but they made a special note never to piss one of them off. “And where did you fit among the fierce, protective.. is it Bømlons?”

When their question left Revna’s tongue, Namid released a soft chuckle. “I was also born on an island — Vancouver Island, in BC.” They shook their head. “But, I was raised ‘on the road’. My father ran with a theatre troupe, so we spent most of my childhood planet-hopping. Alpha Centauri, the Deneva Colony, Risa, even Vulcan — wherever there was a stage or a large enough pile of rocks, we went.”

— Namid Argimeau, Scientific Intel

“That’s sounds incredibly exciting. What was your favorite place that you visited? Or are there too many to choose from?”
McKenzie, DA

“Oh, for sure…” Namid pursed their lips as memories of twisted, thunderous rivers, peaceful forests, and jagged peaks swelled in their thoughts. But the place that stuck with them wasn’t an ordinary majesty. It was simple and overlooked but entirely invaluable. “I had a habit of wandering off as a kid. Was it boredom? The urge to defy my father’s demand I ‘stay put’?” They shrugged. “Anyway, the troupe had an annual gig at one of Portland’s innumerable celebrations. So, every year we piled into an Earth-bound ship and hitched a ride to the Rose City. But while my father wined and dined and did his actorly thing, I planned my next big escape.”

“I guess follow-up wasn’t a strong suit, because I always ended up on the same hidden trail.” Namid wrinkled their nose to mask the chagrin in their eyes. “There were ponderosas and cottonwoods that clung to the trail’s edge, and marionberries and sticky foxtails that deterred any wildlife from the nearby cliff. It wasn’t much, but there was a certain raw beauty about the way nature reclaimed it.”

Their voice tapered off as the waiter reappeared, armed with delicious goods that sent spicy, sweet and salty aromas wafting through the air. Relinquishing the tray to the edge of the table, the waiter carefully distributed the goods between the two. Then, hoisting the tray under his arm, he parted with a comment to holler if they needed anything.

— Namid Argimeau, Scientific Intel


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