Side Sim - Vadoma's Psych Check in (CNS)

Posted Feb. 5, 2019, 10:36 p.m. by Ensign Vadoma Romani (Engineer) (Melissa Aragon)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Royal Sinclair (Counselor) in Side Sim - Vadoma’s Psych Check in (CNS)

Posted by Ensign Vadoma Romani (Engineer) in Side Sim - Vadoma’s Psych Check in (CNS)

The dark haired gypsy wandered the halls with a grin on her face. She had found a kindred spirit in Doctor Daye. It surprised her but she was pleasantly surprised. She had come here thinking to keep her head down and her eyes forward for a while. One tended to put a fake front up to newcomers and she didn’t want to make the wrong choices her first week on board.

She tapped the chime on the Councilor’s door and awaited entry. The last thing she wanted was to intrude on a session with another crewmate. Not a great first impression.

She once more smoothed invisible wrinkles off her uniform and checked her hair. The dark tresses were trapped in their coils on the back of her head and hadn’t fallen from their place. But she checked out of nervousness. She had always been fairly open with evals of this sort in the past. But those interviews had been about things that had already happened. This was to find out if she was capable of her station before anything had been set as a base line. She wondered how someone went about measuring without a baseline? It seemed… wrong… somehow. To make assumptions and choices and decisions when you know nothing but a few scribbled impressions from biased people before you.

Ens Vadoma Romani

A male voice with a pronounced Scottish brogue said “Yes. Come in, it’s open.” and the doors slid open to reveal the Counselor’s office.

Decorated in a warm and calming manner, the office was welcoming and not at all like the rest of the offices on board. The desk had been moved to the corner of the space where the bulkhead met the outer hull’s windows, opening the office space up for a seating area large enough to hold more than the single individual that most often came to talk with the ship’s Counselor. A couch and a few chairs were set around a small table, on which sat a crystal bowl filled with multicolored glass beads that seemed to have a small amount of internal light inside them. Two chairs sat facing the desk, probably allowing for more formal conversations or for administrative needs.

Low bookcases lined the walls, each one closed with a glass fronted door with brass hinges, in which sat some real books, many notebooks, and a few bookends of various sizes and shapes. On the wall behind the desk were several pictures on either side of a display case. Each shelf was filled with a few items the young officer seated at the desk had collected so far; but on the top shelf prominently sat a single item housed in a rounded glass display: The Star Fleet Marine Corps Distinguished Service Cross.

The officer himself was something of an anomaly as far as Counselors went, as well. Seated at the desk, the human male was striking in sheer size. Broad shoulders seemed to fill out the blue uniform of the Medical and Science section in a manner that seemed to contradict the norm, and the broad chest was obviously well-muscled. Bright blue eyes looked up from a handsome face graced with a warm smile. Blonde hair cut more akin to a Security officer or Marine topped his visage, and the Lieutenant Commander pips on the collar seemed to contrast starkly to the man’s youthful appearance. “Do come in, Ensign. I’m Lieutenant Commander Sinclair. What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice thick with the brogue of his home but still clear and understandable. The smile gave him a friendly appearance, one that said he was comfortable in there and anyone else could be as well.

Sinclair, CNS

An office that wasn’t intimidating.

That was the first thought that the young Gypsy heard go thru her. The second thought was that the man behind the desk was the epitome of a two headed coin of old. His intimidating look spoke of a man more than capable of taking care of himself, and anyone around him. But his voice, and the office, were those of a man more aot home in a relaxed atmosphere.

“Ensign Vadoma Romani reporting for intake, Sir.” Her own accent, while not as harsh, was just as pronounced. It added to the slightly exotic look of the woman who’s own lineage was as old as his.

Though standing at a respectful ‘parade rest’ with her hands behind her back, the ebon haired woman’s eyes darted around the room. She recognized the antique book collection for what it was, desire having never held one herself. And the collection of bits and bobs around the room were glanced at and recorded as record of the Councilor’s life. Most especially noted was the award on display, front and center, to silently reassure others that he had been thru enough that he was truly qualified to hear whatever you had to say when you walked in here.

The purusal only took a moment before her eyes were once more firmly planted on the man behind the desk.


Sinclair smiled softly and said “At ease, Ensign. And please… take a seat.” he said and indicated the seating area away from the desk and the more strict interactions it suggested. Then the Counselor stood up… and up… and up. He was nearly seven feet in height and carried himself with a quiet confidence and grace. He picked up a PaDD and moved around the desk and towards one wall. Stopping at the replicator, he looked at the Ensign and said “Anything to drink? I was about to get a cup of tea, myself.”

Sinclair, CNS

Vadoma smiled and relaxed before moving to the seating area, “Umm… tea is fine, thank you.” Choosing a spot on the end of the couch near one of the chairs, she settled down and continued her look of the room. “It’s nice to see an office that doesn’t ‘feel’ like an office. If that makes sense.” She smiled a bit and laughed. She was relaxing, but was still on edge as anyone would be.


Notes on USS Saracen

In topic

Posted since

© 1991-2019 STF. Terms of Service

Version 1.7.1