Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Markus Woods (Chief Science Officer) in side sim - Plant Food

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Sharah Fayth (Medical) in side sim - Plant Food
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
He slipped his arm around her as she rested her forehead against him, becoming small and quiet. And as much as he wanted to go find a hypo and set up a cocktail of anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxers to ease that tension, he knew from experience, it wouldn’t do much for the headache behind her eyes, a combination of physical and energy. Instead, he slipped one hand up into her hair, and went to massaging and working at the back of her neck with rather strong, steady, but gentle hands, or rather just the one. “Lets… Let’s not do the lounge thing today,” he murmured back. “Let’s just … go to your place and take it easy for now.” Concern and compassion rolled off of h im, and he certainly didn’t want to put her out more. And while she couldn’t get away from it all in her quarters, she at least could get away from prying eyes and any nastiness of dealing with people, on top of frayed nerves. “Give you a chance to rest and recoup.”

Mark

She didn’t understand exactly what was going on - the noise too loud to follow the cause and effect, but she felt better when he put his arm around her. She wasn’t aware that was the cause though, not yet. ‘Kayolane. The doctors give me Kayolane to make me sleep when it gets bad, or alpha-wave inducers to force my brain to sleep. Neither is safe for prolonged use.‘ The feel of his hand on her hair was comforting and soothing and something more she couldn’t deal with right then, but there was a sense of immense warmth and want for its effect on her. Which was an immediate release of tension. She didn’t protest when he suggested they not go to the lounge. She didn’t object or insist, he wasn’t upset or disappointed or frustrated with her. He simply, genuinely wanted to make her feel better. And she desperately wanted to get away from prying eyes. “I’m on deck 6.”

Sharah

Feeling her relax sent a small wave of relaxation through him as well. He could feel her apprehension about people talking. The looks, the glances. That bothered him a little, but at the same time he understood. “Okay, let’s move,” he said, gently patting her back, and shifted back toward the lift. This time moving with more of a purpose. The faster he could get her there, the faster she’d be in at least a little better shape.

She walked along with him, focusing on walking despite the dizzy pounding headache. She didn’t exactly stumble, but she was grateful when Markus slipped his arm around her again to steady her. Tonight was rough, but not as bad as the first few nights on board, so she was getting better. She stopped short, catching herself against him not expecting to stop so suddenly. She recoiled a little as the doors to the lift opened. Their minds weren’t chaotic but their voices were over loud. Then Markus was suddenly between her and the other officers.

It took less than a minute to reach the lift, and it opened almost immediately, spilling a couple of other scientist. One of them was a female about five foot nine or ten with lightly tanned skin, dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun, with dark jade eyes, and maybe a hair older than Markus. “Oh hey Doctor. We’re still having some trouble with the navigational data on the ship. But I’ve narrowed it down some.”

“Alright. Put up what ya got on the system so far. I’ll take a look at it when I get a minute.”

She felt the mental focus turn on her before the words were uttered. It wasn’t malicious at all, simple curiosity about her department head and the woman with him. But the mental focus from the three created a louder stronger wave and her hand gripped into his shirt, where no one could see, to steady herself.

“Who’s this?”

“Sharah Fayth this is Lieutenant, Junior Grade Miranda Sheridan. She’s one of our astrophysics and stellar cartography experts. One of our pathfinders,” Markus supplied.

“How do you do,” Sheridan asked.

She liked that nickname, and it was accurate. Sharah had always enjoyed talking to the stellar cartographers in her department. They still saw the stars and mythical and wondrous. A lot of people had lost that wonder. “Jr Lt Fayth. Nice to meet you.” If she didn’t have the beginnings of a royal migraine starting Sharah might have found the way Markus stepped between them comical. It was just so genuine. But not being able to see the woman didn’t make her mental impression any less…or…that was weird…maybe it did. Mental perception was huge in matters of control.

Miranda perked up, “Oh you’re the new doctor who just came on board aren’t you? Visil said you were outstanding when she had to go in yesterday. How are you finding the Viking. This new model is a right sight better than the older hunk of junk we just got off of.” The woman had no mental shields, but her mind was organized, though that didn’t help much.

“She’s not feeling all that great. Gonna get her taken care of. Go, as you were,” Markus said, shooing Miranda away. His tone was mildly playful but there was a hint of annoyance under it, mostly at the delay.

“Alright,” she said, drawing the word out, then went to join two other crew waiting just around the bend.

Shuffling Sharah into the lift he sighed. “Sorry. But that’s the danger of being on this deck.”

Mark

Once the doors shut she leaned against him again, resisting the urge to tug at her hair. “It’s okay, she was nice. They all are, even if they stare a lot and are curious. It’s not their fault.” The doors opened and they were on the opposite end of the deck from her quarters. Sharah was at the very end of a corridor along the outside hull. As few ‘neighbors’ as possible. The only request she ever made, usually she was lucky to get it. She pressed her palm to the biometric reader - she liked them. The door swished open and she stepped inside. It was a studio layout. There was a door to a small refresher to the left and her bed was to the right along the outside hull of the ship. A work station was immediately to the left of the door, a couch and short table directly in front. There was a small replicator as well and a tote that was half packed or unpacked. The room was very neat and tidy, in direct contrast to her mental head space.

Sharah

Markus helped her in and then took her over to the couch, easing her down, sitting or laying, her choice. Then he moved over to the replicator, and begin pulling things out of the energy matrix. Coming back, he had a glass of water, an ice pack, and a cool compress. ‘Might not be much, but outside of medication, it helps with my migraines when I get them.’ His mental contact was gentle, feather-light. He pressed one cool hand to her forehead, and let the other scoop into the back of her neck, just for a few moments. It would help any shock from any of the colder stuff.

“Do you go through this every time you transfer ships,” he asked, his voice barely above the idiot air scrubber systems.

Markus

Sharah sat on the couch, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around her legs, as small as she could get. It didn’t help, but it was instinctual. His hands were cool and teased at easing the burning throbbing. The headache wasn’t really the noise at this point, it was the after effect of diving into storm and the tension and pain that caused. She rested her head into his hands and allowed his touch to be an anchor point in the dizziness. She avoid telepathy for the moment and moving her head. “Every time. Even sometimes if a large portion of the crew gets transferred out.” The words were soft and slow in coming, careful of her own volume. As the dizziness eased somewhat she leaned back, expecting the couch cushions but partially leaned against him.

From the vantage point of the couch, the work station could be seen. There were several real books on the shelves behind it, and two pictures. A third frame could be seen face down on the desk. There was a large visual display that was blank and then another on a swivel arm. It was a geographic map with hundreds of different color coded lines on it. If Markus was familiar with alien planets he would recognize the geographic map as a globe of Betazed. There was an assortment of PaDDs on the desk top as well. On the small bedside table was a small delta wave device, a stand alone alarm clock and taking up the majority of the space was a beautiful cherry blossom bonsai. It wasn’t as big as the bonsai Markus had, but she was budding and beautiful. Her pot sat in a water bowl and was covered in fine gravel and a velvety layer of moss.

Sharah

For the moment he remained still and quiet, with her leaned against him. Shifting a little, he set it so she could lean back against him more. Though his focus was on her, his gaze slowly traveled around her quarters, taking in the space. It was, of course, smaller than his. But for a starship it was spacious and comfortable. The inducer and the workstation stood out to him, as well as the bonsai across the way. The space, he realized, had a calming, soothing effect on him, even as he worried over her quietly. Whether it was by her design, or by nature of the makers of the Viking-class itself, he wasn’t sure. He only hoped that it helped her.

Markus

Sharah found his presence very soothing and comfortable. But after a moment of being leaned against him she was able to wonder why that was and the fact she barely knew him but yet his presence was so familiar and welcome. When silently offered she accepted the ice pack on the back of her neck. Her quarters were meant to be neat and orderly. In a life filled with chaos it was soothing to her to come here at the end of the day and everything had a place and a purpose. After several long quiet moments, where Sharah was curiously confused by how she was reacting to Markus she stirred. She stretched out of the curled up position she had been in and sat up some but not away from him. She wasn’t better but more just accepting the way she was being buffeted. Better would take longer but acceptance and familiarity with the mind around her helped keep her above water. ‘Do you want something to eat or drink? I asked you to dinner.‘ [not to have to take care of me.] She waved towards the desk and the display there. She had also offered to show him her research. ‘I’ve been teaching the movements of all the people we know to be like me.‘

Sharah

At her question about something to eat or drink he gave a half laugh. “I was going to ask you if you wanted or needed anything,” he murmured aloud. “And if you want, I can make dinner while you show and tell on your research?” Multi-tasking was something most people weren’t good at, statistically. Some species were better than others. In many ways each task equally suffered. But sometimes, something that was mostly mindless and menial when mixed with something that required more focus. Sweeping a floor and going over physics equations at the same time, for example. Of course, they could replicate something, and it would still be good, just not as good as actual cooking. And if they had fresh, non-replicated ingredients to start, even better. But he doubted like there was anything like that on hand. Even the arboretum wasn’t meant to actually feed a crew of a thousand.

Mark