Four's Company

Posted on Tue May 25th, 2021 @ 9:51pm by Ensign Noah Balsam & Lieutenant Kennedy Ryan Walsh & Lieutenant Irynya & Lieutenant JG Sheldon Parsons

Mission: The Place of Skulls
Location: Junior Officers' Quarters, Deck 5
Timeline: Mission Day 1 at 1100

[Crew Quarters]
[Deck 5]
[USS Sojourner]

"Well, this just won't do," Parsons prissily shook his head, nope-ing with a sigh as he looked at the already lived-in side of the room.

After reporting in to Engineering -- and getting a major er-tech-tion from seeing the new warp core -- the awkward young Ensign had hoped to be the first to stake a claim in the shared quarters he'd been assigned. Given how particular he was with just about everything, Sheldon had wanted to pick the best room and bed according to his own peculiar preferences. But while the room he initially chose did have an open bed, it wasn't the one he wanted. Clearly, someone had already been living here.

"Probably someone who came in with the ship. Damn," Sheldon sighed again, exasperation taking him. He'd have to take the other room then, which he'd already confirmed to be empty. Moving back into the central living area, the engineer's feet carried him into the bedroom closest to the bathroom. "If I can hear the toilet from in here, I'm going to be very upset," he said, directing the words into the little tiki totem in the crook of his arm. He'd brought it with him from Risa -- a gift from Irynya weeks and weeks ago -- and now set it down on the little nightstand next to his chosen bed.

"Parsons to the Quartermaster's Office. Please have my things beamed into this room and onto this," he said, removing his combadge and tossing it onto the bed, "precise location." Moments later, several duffel bags materialized on the bed, officially staking his claim to the bed in question. Fishing his combadge out from under the bags, he reaffixed it to the breast of his uniform. "Well little man," again to the statue, "this isn't optimal. Not at all. But what're we gonna do? It's the best we've got."

With a slight huff, Parsons again returned to the central living area. There was a comfortable-enough looking sectional sofa in the corner of the room. Given the quarter's dimensions and size, it was an odd placement and a difficult space to imagine being comfortable in but the engineer -- again -- decided to make the best out of a bad situation. He took several long moments testing out each seat, finally settling on the corner closest to the door.

"Yes, this will work well enough, I suppose," he said, slowly gyrating his hips to sink himself further into the cushion. Unlike most people -- who tended to relax on soft furniture -- Sheldon kept his back quite rigid. And it was in this pose that whoever activated the hissing doors from outside in the hall found him as they walked in.

"Oh, hello," Parsons said without thinking...until he saw who'd entered and gulped in response. "Oh it's you," he said, licking his lips to wet them due to sudden dryness. "Hello Irynya. Lieutenant," he nodded to Ryan-Walsh. Or was it Walsh-Ryan? Kennedy Ryan? Walsh Kennedy? Sheldon couldn't exactly remember so he just stuck to the pip-ular title instead. "Small world, hmm?"

Irynya looked from Kennedy to Sheldon and then back to Kennedy and, despite her bewilderment, giggled. "Well ok then," she said more to herself than to the two men in room. She was still trying to make sense of Kennedy as a roommate so naturally it seemed the universe was going to add in Sheldon Parsons.

"Yes, on the contrary," Kennedy looked at both Irynya and Sheldon Parsons with curiosity while mostly looking flabbergasted. He knew that the likelihood of being bunked with someone he had made acquaintances at the party was more than likely, but he wasn't expecting the man who he accidentally poured a drink all over and the woman, who was very sensuous that night within close proximity got him thinking about things as a shut-in never thought of before. He began to grow even more anxious and slightly raised his hand in a very American, howdy-doesqe like motion that he saw in twentieth Earth century situational comedies even himself didn't understand, "Hi Sharsons, I mean Sheldon Parsons."

Irynya looked between the two a moment before realization hit. "Ah, you met last night," she noted, stating the obvious somewhat drily.

"Yes we did," Parsons nodded fervently. "I had to recycle my shirt, you know. Couldn't get the smell of liquor out of it." This was said with a smirk but something in his eyes might strike as serious. Before he could say more, movement to the right caught his eye.

With the airy swish of doors, the second bedroom opened up. In drifted a strange creature considering the sterile surroundings: it was a Monarch butterfly, a species known to have been extinct since the post-atomic horror on Earth. Its beating wings were orange-like copper, flitting, with hints of white and black, resembling sets of eyes at its rounded tips. It was like a little piece of painted glass, sailing aloft on the life support circulation currents.

It came to land on Parsons' shoulder, where, akin to bleeding ink staining paper, its orange fire hue bled into a vibrant turquoise.

"What the hell?!" Parsons darted up and back in surprise, only succeeding in felling himself back onto the couch. Twirling himself over, he threw himself up again only to back into the coffee table, which he also fell back on. The butterfly, meanwhile, seemed to have preferred the air to staying on his shoulder. So Sheldon let himself slide onto the floor and then crab-walked backwards as fast as he could, letting out a bit of a yowl. "Get back, whatever you are!" he said, not immediately recognizing the bug for what it was as he slapped his combadge. "Parsons to security. We've got some kind of...of creature on Deck 4! It has eyes on its wings," he said, licking his lips as the adrenaline kicked in.

"On our way," a gruff Andorian voice said over the comm in response to Parsons.

"Oh thank goodness," Parsons breathed rapidly, collecting himself into a ball at the base of the wall. He didn't care what Iry or Ryan-whoever thought about his reaction: that thing was a dangerous insect in their quarters and it was after him! Of course, part of him did wonder why they weren't reacting in fear, too...

While Parsons distanced himself from the vibrant creature, Irynya was stepping toward it. She was mostly confident that it couldn't be real, but it looked very much like it was. Certain that the odds of a dangerous creature suddenly appearing from one of the bedrooms in their new quarters was extremely low, she continued to move slowly forward.

"Sheldon, it's fine. I'm sure it's not going to hurt you. It looks like some of the flower tending insects we have on Risa," she told him, not taking her eyes off of the creature as she spoke. Tentatively she held out her hand to see if it would settle on one of her fingers.

The butterfly, indeed, did. It swayed to a halt on her finger, its wings pulsing once lazily before its wings erupted in a spring chartreuse color, bleeding away like ink from its default.

"Don't let it touch you! It could be poisonous!" Sheldon instinctively recoiled even further, as if he could somehow back up and away through the bookcase he was now coiling against.

The doors to the main living room suddenly swished open from the hall. In strode a man and a woman in Starfleet Security gold, both holding their phasers in prime firing position. "We got a report of a dangerous creature in here," said the Andorian of the two. His partner -- a Nausicaan -- looked ready to rip whatever it was apart but seemed disappointed to see only a butterfly.

"This is what you called us for?" the Nausicaan asked in disbelief, gravel heavy in her voice.

"How did it even get on board? Don't tell me," the Andorian grumbled. "Davies and his damned bug collection? I told him to keep those things confined to the bio lab," he said, rolling his eyes.

"That's an endangered Monarch butterfly," Kennedy commented and continued in a very pragmatic tone, "Indigenous to Earth, North American continent. They're not vicious nor are they poisonous."

Another airy swish of the far quarters' doors sounded and a skinny waif-like person with dark hair and eyes stepped out. Noah had been summoned to cut short his work in the bathroom from all the commotion. He hadn't really known what he'd see, but a man cowering on the floor, while his hologram rested itself daintily on a woman's fingers. He smiled his too-big smile, "Oh. He likes you," Noah pointed at Irynya and the butterfly.

"Sir, is this your specimen?" The Andorian barked. Noah's eyes rounded and he gulped.

"S-specimen? Mood's my junior year project." His brows knit above his large aquiline nose and the stranger reached into his pocket. He brought out what looked like a flattened ring box. He popped it open. The Andorian raised a brow and glanced at the Nausicaan. "Mood. Recall." Noah said. The chartreuse monarch butterfly lifted off Irynya's finger and fluttered decisively toward the box. It landed the house and seemed to pause. Its wings turned silvery gray.

Irynya had watched the whole thing with open delight despite the presence of two security officers in their quarters. "A hologram!" she exclaimed when the butterfly settled onto its perch. "That's fabulous. How is it able to move about the..." Irynya stopped herself short of finishing her question glancing at the officers and then back at Sheldon.

"I think everything is alright here sir, ma'am," she noted slipping quickly into officer mode. "Ensign Parsons was just caught off guard. False alarm."

To punctuate the point so that the security officers he had called could leave without further preamble she looked pointedly at Sheldon, both of her eyebrows raised. "Right Sheldon?"

"How was I supposed to know it was a hologram," Parsons puffed up, raising himself from the floor with the help of the bookshelf. He dusted himself off and shook his head with disdain. "False alarm indeed. But thanks for coming so fast! I'll be sure to note your rapid response in my log. I genuinely appreciate you!" he said to the Andorian and the Nausicaan, who both rolled their eyes and took their leave. The doors swished closed again behind them.

Noah answered Irynya's question, "Oh Um." he gestured with a finger in a circle, "The Sojourner has, um, i-integrated holographic interfaces and holo-mesh environments throughout," he explained. "Um. Index." A hairless humanoid appeared in nickel-colored clothing in the corner, turning to look at the speaker. "Set atmosphere 218 on grids..." he winced an eye with a chomp of his lip in thought, "Alpha four and beta four." Several flickering meditative candles appeared, flame and all, in the space adjacent the door, supported by what looked like wooden candle floor stands. "I just tied Mood into the environment." Noah looked at the cowering Sheldon, "S-sorry if Mood scared you."

"You've done a very great job in creating a lifelike holographic model," Kennedy complimented the Midshipman.

Noah smiled at the man in white, "Oh um, th-thanks. It's a hobby." He flashed his too-wide, toothy smile.

"I appreciate the apology," Sheldon directed to Noah. "Do we have to worry about accidentally squashing the darn thing? Or is he butt-proof?" The young engineer preened as he moved back to his spot on the couch, lowering himself down with a quick spotcheck to ensure Mood hadn't somehow flitted underneath him unseen. "These two I know," Sheldon took turns pointing to Irynya and Kennedy. "You, I do not," he said to Noah. "Sheldon Parsons, junior engineer. And you are?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"Oh um, Midshipman Noah Hyman Balsam, Sir," Noah replied, "Systems Specialist. I work in the computer core." He tentatively offered out his hand to Sheldon, brushing it down his pant leg to clear the sweat of being in the computer core- and anxiety.

"Nice to meet you," Sheldon nodded, shaking the offered hand but making no move to stand. It was as if he were staking a claim and rooting himself into the spot he sat. "Again, though...is your butterfly programmed for squashing, either accidental or on purpose?" There was a look in Sheldon's eyes that almost gave the impression he'd gladly swat Mood with a PADD if given the chance. Said look gave way to a slight, awkward smile though, as if the young man was just kidding. But was he?

"And-and you, Sir," Noah slow-glanced to the two people he had not yet met, his nimble fingers clasping behind him. "Um. No. Mood's haptic points and biosensor subroutines are," he glanced at Irynya and Kennedy then back to Parsons, "Are in his feet." The cadet's lips pursed like he was about to ask why, but he didn't.

"Hi Noah, I'm Doctor Kennedy Ryan Walsh. I guess we're bunkmates," Kennedy gestured to the room that he came out of. He was relieved that Irynya was in the other room. "And this is Irynya."

The Risian smiled warmly at the younger man hoping to downplay any alarm that might have come with Sheldon's reaction to the holo-butterfly.

"Hi, hi Doctor," Noah addressed the Doctor with another handshake. He gave Irynya a wave.

"Well, this is all very nice, isn't it?" Sheldon asked, calming down some and looking about the room. "I mean, it's meant for four people and space is quite limited but I expected worse. We're not exactly on top of each other, though I suspect some might be hoping for such." He cleared his throat and did not comment on that particular thought trail any further, though his furtive eyes did momentarily dart to Kennedy.

"I hope you don't mind, Irynya, but I already picked out a bed in our room. You don't have to worry about prying eyes from me while you're in there. Unless you're in a Starfleet uniform, I can barely look at you as is," he chuckled awkwardly. The comment was meant as derision toward himself -- a callback to being unable to look at her in her Ms. Cleavage beach party form -- but it came out like he was deriding Irynya instead. "Oh, erm...that didn't come out quite right. I didn't mean that you're ugly. Just that I don't really want to see you naked. And I'll certainly take great care to avoid giving you a show, too," he said, his laugh entirely too forced.

A terribly unladylike snort escaped the Risian woman contrasting with the external image of the put together and well endowed Risian. "I'll do my best not to leave my breasts hanging out at face level," she said with a touch of sarcasm mixed into her amusement. "Seriously, though, it's not a big deal. I don't sleep naked so I think you're safe."

Turning back to Noah she changed the subject, "So, are there other holo-animals that inhabit our quarters or just Mood?" She was genuinely curious if they might get to encounter other similarly realistic creatures. "And why's he called Mood? He really is fabulous by the way."

The Cadet smiled. "Um. None in active playback inside the sys-system yet," he assured- or perhaps foreboded- at the Risian's question. "Mood's named after a, uh, piece of kitsch from old Earth. They were called, um, well, mood rings." Noah chewed his cheek, "Supposedly they, um, picked up your mood and changed colors. But he- Mood I mean- c-can detect your stress hormones, heart rate, and, um, your blood-oxygen. So he sort of works."

"Wait. He changes color when he detects those things?" She grinned excitedly at the idea before an idea took hold making her eyes go wide. "Just stress hormones or...?" Irynya let her question fall off giving the cadet a meaningful look. "I mean," she continued before he could answer, "that could be a useful thing to know about when all of your roommates are guys."

Noah's large brown eyes blinked like he didn't quite follow her meaning- at least at first. A slow smile pushed into one of his dimples, "Uhh... y-yeah he could probably tell that. If... you know..." he made a lengthening gesture at waist level. "In s-some, anyway. But um," he scratched his temple, "Not 100%. I-I don't think." He glanced at the two others in the room, "Uh, it'd work, um, both ways..." He had a creeping wonder if Mood had just been weaponized.

Parsons looked like a deer in headlights. He hadn't been concerned about rooming with Irynya beyond Incidental Boobage. Having a holographic butterfly telegraph his attractions to the men in the room, though, did not make him happy. "I am not responsible for whatever that thing tries to tell you. Unless I, personally, tell you what I'm feeling, it's not polite to assume." If the man were wearing pearls, he'd positively be clutching them. "If I get a spontaneous...attraction, it could just as well be because I'm thinking about someone else I saw earlier. It doesn't mean I want to do it with any of you," Parsons protested, despite the little statuette sitting on his bedside table in the other room.

Irynya turned around, pretending to inspect something on the other side of the room, but doing her best not burst into peals of laugher. Pulling herself together after a moment she turned back around, her eyes still twinkling mirthfully. "Sheldon, it's not like you're going to walk around carrying Mood every moment of the day."

She turned back to Noah, still curious, "Is that how it works? I mean... for Mood to detect your, well, mood, I assume there's something to be said for proximity. Otherwise, how would he tell the four of us apart?"

Mood took flight again landing onto Kennedy's shoulder. Kennedy froze momentarily and looked at the holographic Monarch butterfly perched on his shoulder. His gaze returned to look at Irynya. Momentarily the butterfly turned yellow as he was anxious with being in close quarters with Irynya then he started to think of last night. Then it started to turn a hot pink. His cheeks turned to a level of bright red.

Without saying much more, Noah picked up Mood's case. "Come on home, Mood," he instructed. The bight pink butterfly gracefully batted its wings a couple of times and then lifted off. His bright alizarin wings shifted to gray and then orange once he landed on the case. This time Noah was mindful to close it so Mood's program went back in to standby. He glanced at Kennedy and then answered Iry's question. "He has to, um, land on your skin... preferably. Its not instantaneous. But-but he's basically programmed with the same routines as a medical sensor. That's what he was, um, for." Noah blinked, "For the children's ward at Starfleet, um, Medical. Kids get scared of all those whirly devices. But a butterfly landing on them... a-anyway."

Irynya nodded as if this obviously answered all of her questions, both spoken and unspoken, although she couldn't help a touch of curiosity at the significant shift in Moods colors when Kennedy looked her way.

"Sadly, I really do need to unpack. But I do hope we'll get a chance to see Mood again in the future," she said. Turning to Kennedy, whose cheeks were slowly draining of the intense blush that had flared moments before, she added, "I guess you're welcome to still help if you'd like or..." she drew out the or as she spoke, "... I would totally understand if you also needed to unpack as well." She was still happy for the company and help, but sensed that perhaps the ACMO would like an option to escape her for a few minutes at least.

Kennedy had forgotten that he had volunteered that he would help Irnynya unpack. He shook his head, "Nope, I unpacked this morning. I'll -uh- be there, in five. Give you some, ah, uh, time, yes to get sorted?"

A slight smile lit the Risian's face, different from the amused grins she had worn since Mood entered had entered the scene. "Five it is. I'll just be..." she pointed in the direction of the bedroom where she intended to unpack and then, waving to the three men, she turned and disappeared with a whoosh of the automated doors.

“You know, I should probably unpack, too,” Parsons spoke up then, standing. “Hope it won’t ruin your chance to see her lacey dainties,” he smirked, positively preening as he moved towards his room. “Don’t think we didn’t notice Mood’s tell-all color. But hey,” he put his hands on his hips, “at least Mood will keep us honest.” This, in direct opposition to what he’d said about Mood’s capabilities only minutes before.

“Noah, you’ve got some really special there,” he gestured to the butterfly’s case, his tone sincere. “Wish they’d had him when I spent months in the hospital when I was little. You weren’t kidding about how scary it is.” He shuddered at the thought as he moved to the bedroom door. “See you later, Noah. And I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes, Doctor,” that preen-smirk returned before he slipped inside.

"Th-thanks," Noah said, eyes dropping to the small case in his fingers. He felt the press of his need to return to the Computer Core. His roommates were going to be quirky indeed. He knew what Parsons meant from his own past. Broken bones and hypothermia were scary for a child and he'd wished he'd had a butterfly instead of bright medical lights and whirring sensors above his head. He watched as Parsons too disappeared.

He came to finish why he'd come back to his quarters in the first place- to pick up some pieces of equipment. He'd meant to replicate some snacks but with his time up, Noah decided he'd just replicate something while in the core monitoring room. It'd be fine.

Noah strode into his room and advanced to his small desk. His crates had been moved in since he'd come aboard on Antares Shipyard but he hadn't unpacked. Instead, he went for his console interface. He put Mood's container to the glossy surface. The station pinged the container with a dashed turquoise ring. "Back to the Menagerie, Mood," he said to the case. With that, he transferred Mood's program. His thoughts had a touch of sadness when he took his leave, back to the control room.

A Post By:

Lieutenant JG Irynya
Assistant Chief Helmswoman

Lieutenant JG Kennedy Wash
Assistant Chief Medical Officer

Ensign Sheldon Parsons
Butterfly Killer? and Engineer

Midshipman Noah Balsam
Systems Specialist