STF

Alt Timeline - Checking In (Cara Esme O'Farrell)

Posted May 23, 2023, 11:09 a.m. by Chief Petty Officer Jacen "Flex" Flexwood (Security Officer/Special Forces Division) (Justin Wood)

Posted by Lieutenant Cara Esmé O’Farrell (Counselor / Education Specialist) in Alt Timeline - Checking In (Cara Esme O’Farrell)

Posted by Chief Petty Officer Jacen “Flex” Flexwood (Security Officer/Special Forces Division) in Alt Timeline - Checking In (Cara Esme O’Farrell)

Posted by Lieutenant Cara Esmé O’Farrell (Counselor / Education Specialist) in Alt Timeline - Checking In (Cara Esme O’Farrell)
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Stepping off the turbolift he silently made his way past various collections of his crewmates en route to the Counselor’s office. This was his least favorite part of every new assignment. Counselor’s in general were nice enough, and legitimately only wanted the best for crewmen… but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were looking for something to be wrong with him. Hell, they were probably right but that didn’t mean he wanted to acknowledge it. He smiled to himself at that thought.

After smoothing the front of his uniform jacket, he pressed the door chime and waited to be summoned inside.

Jacen Flexwood (Sec)

A woman with curly bright red hair, green eyes, and classic pale skin marked her as having strong Irish Terran heritage stood in the open doorway. A very strong Irish accent flowed from her, “Chief Petty Officer Flexwood? I’m Lt Cara O’Farrell.” She stepped back from the door. “Please come in.” She offered her hand for a firm shake that seemed to put him at ease and make him feel welcome.

As the door opened, Flex observed the redhead in the doorway. She was a traditionally beautiful woman who appeared to be in her late twenties. The thickness of her accent caught him by surprise and his ears immediately perked up so that he could listen more intently and pick out her words. “Pleased to meet you Lt. O’Farrell.” He responded to her greeting and returned the handshake before entering the office.

Immediately to the left of the door was a desk sitting catty-corner. A variety of places to sit, including a large reinforced couch, and low tables dotted the rest of the open area. The right wall was taken up with a wall to wall, floor to ceiling storage until. Books, various pieces of art, and nick knacks covered the shelves. The office was filled with shades of green and blue, brown and orange. “Help yerself te the replicator and have a seat.” O’Farrell grabbed a glass of tea off her desk and had a seat in one of the chairs.

O’Farrell

Unconsciously his eyes swept the room in accordance with his training. Left to right, low to high, his attention lingered on the assorted items along the right wall. The counselor had quite the collection going it seemed. Flex made his way to the replicator and got himself a cup of black tea. He took a small sip of the piping hot liquid before making his way over to the large couch. Taking a seat and placing his tea on one of the tables he sat back and waited for her. “I like what you’ve done with the place Lt.” He quipped.

Flexwood

Cara watched him sit on the extremely over large couch. The average person looked like a child sitting on it. It was exceptionally comfortable though. Cara glanced around the office and a smile played on her lips, “Well I’d like ta take credit for the decor, but my predecessor left most o’ this behind. I do like it.” She sipped from her mug. “So what brings ya ta this starbase with warp drive?”

O’Farrell

He pondered what’d she’d said about her predecessor, and found it curious that she had not made the space her own. He wondered if she’d had a connection to the previous counselor or if she were perhaps a bit of a drifter who tried not to get too connected to one place. Perhaps he’d look into that mystery one day.

He smiled at the way she phrased her question, and his response was self-deprecating. “Honestly I got old, and it beat getting put down or put out to pasture.” His tone was light, though there was a certain resignation in his tone that kept it from providing the levity he intended.

Flex


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