Posted Jan. 20, 2023, 9:08 p.m. by Ensign Dr. P'Mala Dawes (Doctor) (Shaun Tee)
Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Vora Zorell (Scientist) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)
Posted by Ensign Dr. P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)
P’Mala Dawes crept into Holodeck 2 dressed in Victorian garb–again. This time, in a simple black wool dress with gray grosgrain ribbons and a matching gray apron that looked striking against her navy hair and green-tinged skin.
Through the portal, frozen, was The Wattle & Daub, an inn and pub in the port city of Southampton, England, 1889. In the pub, P’Mala was just a barmaid–Pamala. The owner and proprietor was an old Scots man named Henson. She’d played in the novel for a couple years and hadn’t gotten too much more out of him.
She took her place behind the bar, took a big gulp of air, and said, “Computer, begin program.”
Like an 20th century jukebox, the oil lanterns in the pub snuffed to light and P’Mala picked up a cloth and slung it over her shoulder. As if on cue, Henson burst through the door from his backroom office in a huff.
“Pamala! You best go home. It’s empty as balls out here this afternoon, lass.”
And as if on cue, three sailors burst through the door and P’Mala fetched them beer.
“You were saying?” she retorted.
“Not to change the subject,” Henson said, changing the subject, “But have you heard anything yet from that advertisement we put in the Echo? We can’t have a pub without any entertainment, since Westley left, and I’m not going to sell that old piano for a gramophone machine just yet.”
“Nothing yet.” P’Mala said. “Excuse me, I got to give these blokes a topper.”
She rushed to refill the sailors’ pints and wipe down the bar.
Why is it that when I’m off duty, I resort myself to manual labor? she grumbled to herself, but the bell over the door jangled again, signaling another guest, and the shift was in full swing, leaving her preciously little time for introspection.
-Ensign P’Mala Dawes
Her heeled doors clunked on the wooden floor as the new entrant took in the surroundings. She definitely looked out of place, with her midnight blue silk brocade and velvet day bodice and bustle skirt. The high boned collar lay delicately against the pale yellow skin of her long throat and the matching feather-adorned hat was a sharp contrast the cherry-red coloured hair it was nestled upon. Maroon eyes took in the surroundings and the woman adjusted a rather worn carpet bag that seemed discordant with her fine and on-trend clothes. Moving towards the bar, the tall woman sought out the first person who seemed to work in the establishment. “Hello, might you help me? I’m here about an advertisement for a performer?”
P’Mala did not recognize the stranger–but she was glad to see a new face at the Wattle & Daub. A crewman enjoying the holonovel as well.
“Yes, welcome!” P’Mala said, pointing to a stool. “Take a seat. I go by Pamala. Would you like a pint? Or a glass of sherry? I’m just a barmaid, but Henson will want to get his eye on you right now,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “What’s your name, miss?”
-Ensign P’Mala Dawes
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