Posted Oct. 2, 2021, 10:57 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade Namid Argimeau (Scientific Intelligence Officer) (Trin S)
Posted by Civilian Sair Songz (Counselor) in Songz’s Office - The Psychology of a Wandering Mind
Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Namid Argimeau (Scientific Intelligence Officer) in Songz’s Office - The Psychology of a Wandering Mind
“And…” Namid chewed their lip and hoisted their gaze to the monitor, “…done!”Tempted to fistbump the air, Namid submitted to a ragged sigh. Data extrapolation was second nature to them. Reports, too. But disinterest moulded passion into a chore, making an enjoyable process tedious. Teeth-grindingly tedious. Alas! They finished. With a few moments to spare–
Beep! They winced. Beep!
Namid screwed their eyes shut and prayed a tiny wormhole would appear to suck the alarm into Cardassian space. Such please fell on empty space. Pity. Tapping their fingers against the table top, Namid snagged the device and pulled it toward them. “What…” they touched the popup, “…oh.”
CNS Appointment at 14:15 - 20 minutes.
It was safe to say Namid Argimeau forgot about the appointment until it decided to show face. Fortunately, they had little else planned beyond a few routine tasks and another episode of Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam. Namid hesitated. Maybe they should wait for Visrian to catch up… it was already hard enough to keep quiet about episode 7.
Beep! Namid glared. Beep…
The journey from Gen Sci Lab 1 to Counsellor Songz’s office was quiet and relatively uneventful. Not that Namid minded. They meandered up to her office, pausing to check the time, and lifted their hand to palm the chime. Now, all they had to do was wait… and pray they had the right time.
— Namid Argimeau, Scientific Intel
“Come in!” Sair said cheerily, kneeling near a large area rug in muted blues, greys and greens. It spanned half of the therapy area in front of her desk and she had set a small round coffee table in front of small sofa and two arm chairs, in a blue-grey colour. Behind her was the desk with two basic chairs in front and a pale wooden shelving unit to the left by the replicator. It was near this nook that the new counsellor was unpacking a crate, pulling out physical books and setting them in a pile
Namid waltzed into Sair’s office armed with a crooked grin. Inside, they halted and swayed briefly on their heels. A sea of muted greys, blues and greens extended before them. Sofas. Armchairs. Wooden shelves. Real books. Each grappled for and seized Namid’s regard for fleeting moments before losing to another. Their rambling gaze eventually settled on a curious object standing sentinel beside them.
Next to the door was a stone carving that was half the height of the door. Carved out of white dolomite, it was a miniature replica of the giant tree that was in the lobby of he Assembly Complex in Kobliad’s capital. The tree had a wide trunk with the appearance of a thick bark and was easily deciduous with sweeping branches with teardrop shaped leaves. Carved around the trunk of the tree were arms with hands seeming to hold the tree and they wound themselves up the trunk.
Argimeau tended forward to inspect the intricacies of the dolomite carving. Its ethereal figure tempted them with visions of weeping cherry, but it was far from the languid trees they recalled from the woodlands. Latent wonder saturated their eyes, but Namid quickly dismissed the thought. They weren’t here to admire the decor.
Rocking herself to her feet, Sair presented a tidy figure in her mimicked uniform. Over black slim trousers she wore a long sleeved blue tunic of medical, and her medium length lilac hair was swept off to the side and secured in a small messy knot. Whether she was prepared for the appointment was hard to say but her light brown eyes showed exuded warmth and a hint of excitement. “Make yourself comfortable and do help yourself to the replicator. I thought I’d sneak in a tiny bit more unpacking and I seem to have lost track of what time it was.”
~Sair Songz, CNS
Namid lifted their gaze to the lilac-haired woman and offered another of their grins. “No worries,” they shrugged somewhat dismissively. “How long have you been at it?” They went to take a seat before realising they hadn’t introduced themself. It was rude… even if there was a 99% chance she already knew. “I’m sorry,” they chuckled somewhat inwardly and approached to offer a calloused hand. “Namid Argimeau.”
— Namid Argimeau, Scientific Intel
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