Posted by Ensign Dr. P’Mala Dawes (Doctor) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Vora Zorell (Scientist) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Vora Zorell (Scientist) in Holodeck 2 - A Shift At The Wattle & Daub (tag: Vora, Open)
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
“It seems really interesting,” Vora said, moving her carpet bag to the bed. “It’s both very different and exceedingly similar to places I’ve known.” She gave a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to explain. What made you pick your character?”

~Vora Zorell, Sciences

P’Mala was kind of dumbstruck for a second.

She technically could inhabit anyone in the holonovel, but she settled for a barmaid in a middling traveler’s pub in Southampton, yes.

“I guess,” she said truthfully, “I can blend into her. She’s not the main character, but the bar needs her. What about you?”

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

Vora drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Oddly, there are a couple aspects that ring true in my own life, and then the rest is wildly different. It’s part imagination and part catharsis I think. I felt oddly drawn to her.”

She gestured to the room. “So, shall we continue? I do believe Miss Zalenas has a performance to prepare for.”

~Vora Zorell, Sciences

“Absolutely, and Mr. Henson does not have the stamina to keep up with the bar for too long without getting very cross,” P’Mala said, patting her hands on her apron. “Computer, restart program.”

The lights reflickered and action resumed in the context of the Wattle and Daub.

“This room will be private, for you alone. Feel free to come and go as you please,” P’Mala said. “I’ll leave you be to prepare, but I must get back down to the bar.”

She handed Vora a key to the room and bowed, slipping out the door and back down the stairs.

While the two had been gone, Henson had cajoled a couple of the sailors to push the tables and chairs and piano into a more suitable layout for shows.

There was now a narrow empty floor-level stage area in the back of the bar now with the piano and benchlit by potlights.

Surprisingly quick, P’Mala thought, wondering if the program reset was partially to blame.

The old man was sipping on a glass of ice water behind the bar.

“Pamala, how does she like the room,” he asked. “Was it to her standards?”

“Well, she didn’t run out screaming, Henson,” P’Mala said, snagging a couple pint glasses and acknowledged ingredients thirsty patrons with a nod.

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

In her room, ‘Vera’ took a deep breath and began to change into something more appropriate for the kind of performance she was about to give. It was not a grand stage but people would still expect her to be a high class lady no matter the setting. That worked to her advantage even if she chose something appropriate for evening with just a bit less flare than might be expected in London.

She strode down later to warm up, the deep red silk velvet skirt and bodice trimmed in black lace.. The bodice had a wide V-neck and the skirt was heavily draped and ‘Vera’s tall form carried the shape easily.

The noise in the bar noticeably quieted from a raucous clamoring to a relatively hushed murmur as Vora swept into the door.

One of the sailors took off his lat, poked his lad with an elbow, and whispered, “That right there’s a lady.”

P’Mala was wiping glasses and Henson stood behind the bar making a couple cocktails in highball glasses, crushing ice in a linen cloth.

She swept over to the Henson and Pamala with with a confident smile, black gloves to her elbows. “The layout is very suitable. Is it alright if I do some preparations?”

~Vora Zorell, Sciences

P’Mala tried not to gawp, but she couldn’t help herself. “Of… of course!” she said. “You know, you really have a great energy when you enter a room! I can see why performance is your work, lady.”

Vera flashed her a gracious smile. “You are very kind.”

Henson dashed some bitters into the glasses.

“Of course, you can prepare however you need and Pamala here will be happy to assist you.” The old man swatted a dishrag half-hearted at the Vulcan.

Zalena bowed her head to Henson and moved over to the piano.

Before the two could get started, one of the clients, a young-looking sailor with big jug-handle ears and a prominent Adam’s apple, approached Vora and said “On the crown, its, Miss Vera Zalenas! Excuse me. I just had to say, bloody well done,” he blurted. Then he rushed back into the dark bar, to the hoots and laughter of a group of seamen in the back.

-Ensign P’Mala Dawes

The performer flashed him a grin and a wink. Of course no one here knew the reason she was even in this town in the first. For that matter, no one even knew in London, either. Their complementary welcome of her might change. Perhaps.

Long, pale yellow fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before they began to run scales, allowing her to stretch out her hands. She hummed to warm up her voice, a rich vibrato sounding from her throat.

Vera smiled at Pamala. “Do you think the lighting is suitable here, do we need to shift the piano over a little?” She couldn’t see deep into the pub for the lights, but she didn’t need to.

~Vora Zorell, Sciences