multiversallogs | OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

Who: Everyone!
What: St Kelley's evening
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Veerdi evening.
Notes:
(1) The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
(2) All mementos will appear overnight in some part of your character's apartment.
(3) Dance!

St Kelley's is one of the more sedate occasions in Baedal, at least as holidays go. It passes more or less unnoticed by the majority of the population as many of them feel it doesn't concern them. It's not their holiday; it's for the others. Those with severed ties and broken hearts. The temple and church preach that it's a time for reflection or for glorifying the generosity of the gods. It's one of the few days on which no one looks askance at first generation Citizens mourning their missing loved ones publicly.

As night rolls around and floating lanterns are set to sea, the Apache in Mog Hill prepares to accept guests from the newer cohorts. It's something that happens every year, making it a practical tradition. The alcohol will be cheaper for first timers, and the music will be kept at a reasonable level.

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"...Didn't need air already, did you?"

The smile on his face matches the tone of his voice--gently teasing, and not at her expense. Jim rises to his feet, smoothing out the jacket of his suit. He gestures at the bench where he'd been seated.

"You're welcome to join me here, if you want."

Olivia turns around quickly, pleasantly surprised to see who it is. She smiles warmly and makes her way over. "Nah. I just thought I'd do a little people watching. Never know what kind of interesting characters you might come across." Meaning him, of course.

She gives him an obvious once-over, and nods her approval. "You look nice!" She smooths her hands down over her skirt as she takes a seat. "I like the pinstripes."

"You also look very nice," he replies, smiling as he retakes his seat. "I like that dress. And thank you--I just had this made. I usually only have to resort to a dress uniform for a special occasion, so this whole suit business is new. I'm glad it works."

...Honestly, that was part of the reason for dragging out the suit at a party, was to gauge the reaction before he tried it out for something more serious. Always thinking, this one, even when it seems he's not.

"How've you been?"

"Had it made?" Olivia laughs, not at his expense. "Shoot, and I found this thing at the thrift store. I'm slummin' it compared to you." She rests a hand on his shoulder briefly. "But it looks good on ya. I should have guessed. Tailoring always shows."

She lifts her beer to take a sip and then carefully sets it down on the bench next to her, rubbing her hands together slowly to chase away the chill from the glass. "I've been good." An all-things-considered type of good, but that's still good. "It's getting easier. You?"

"I tried the stores," Jim deadpans. "Apparently they don't carry anything for guys built like pugs who work out." He gives her an elaborate shrug, his eyes twinkling with good humor. "Had to call in a tailor after that. Embarrassing, really."

He picks up the pint of beer he'd left resting on the bench when he got up, pausing with it halfway to his mouth before shrugging. "I'm living in interesting times, at least," he allows, before taking a healthy swallow. "Work's keeping me busy."

Olivia plays like she's attempting to suppress a smile at the notion of Jim being built like a pug. "Well, you look sharp, so it all worked out in the end, I'd say."

Then, there's a glint in her own eye and she leans back and drapes one arm along the back of the bench (though not behind Jim). "You know, speaking of work, and I'm glad you brought that up... I've got myself a job lined up. One that suits me better. I start after St. Kelley's." Three guesses, Kirk.

His eyebrows go up, mid-sip, and he lowers the glass, looking over at her. "I hope it's with Hellsing, or I'm gonna feel like an enormous jerk for telling them to expect you," he says, the grin returning to his lips. "And the list of Reasons Why Jim Kirk Is an Enormous Jerk is already growing just fine without help, thanks."

His smile softens. "Congratulations, though. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you for that. I think having references from both you and Hellboy helped out a lot. I'm looking forward to it." She crosses one leg over the other and absently rolls her ankle like she's maybe not used to wearing heels for very long.

"I suppose this means we'll be seeing more of each other. Looking forward to that. And you're definitely not an enormous jerk. Not even a little one."

"I'm really glad to hear that. Hellsing's a good organization, and I think it's a good match, you being there."

He laughs, pointing at her with the hand holding his glass. "I'm glad you think that going in, because once Bones-- uh, Dr. McCoy gives you an earful, you might have a hard time believing I'm even a grown man, let alone a captain and a competent field agent."

But that last bit is said with fondness, affection. He knows fussing is in McCoy's makeup, but also that the man would have his back, without question, any time.

"Sounds like a real mother hen." Which is spoken with the same affinity that might be attached to must be nice. "I'm sure Doctor McCoy and I will get along just fine."

Olivia lifts her beer up for another drink, a touch more subdued now than a moment ago. "I sent a boat out. How about you?"

"You'd think he invented it. But... I don't know what I'd do without him. Probably be dead on some distant planet, by now."

Jim nods, looking over at her. "I did. I wanted to see what would happen. The last holiday--were you here for that? the cats and rats?--I followed custom as described, and I did receive something. I want to see if the pattern holds."

Green eyes grow slightly wider in surprise. "You did? I blew off the actual... ritual thing. I was still too angry about being here, I guess. But it actually worked?" What a twist. Olivia frowns thoughtfully. "Well, then I'm glad I bothered this time. I guess we'll see what happens, huh?

"What did you get from the cat and rat?"

"Yeah, it actually worked."

There's a tiny moment of awkwardness because it's not the most pleasant or objective subject to bring up... but he did open the door, and he feels like he knows her well enough by now not to have to try to gloss over things or evade the question.

"I got the medal Starfleet bestowed on my father, posthumously. He got Starfleet's highest honor for saving all of us."

Olivia's curiosity fades into apology, and sympathy. "I'm sorry." She smiles faintly, and in a way she hopes is reassuring. "It must be-" Nice to have? She winces (mostly) inwardly. "It's something, at least."

There's a quiet sigh that accompanies a shake of her head. "We seem to be good at this, don't we? Calling attention to the less than happy things in each others lives. I'm sorry, Jim."

There are moments when Jim's burgeoning maturity, fed by his Starfleet training and field promotion, win out over his youth and his devil-may-care exterior. This is one of them; he pauses, considering his words rather than rushing into meaningless reassurances.

"Don't be sorry. I don't think it's that we keep calling attention to the less than happy things. I think it's that we've both had our fair share, and possibly then some. It's hard not to, I imagine."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Liv puffs out her cheeks with a heavy exhale and a roll of her eyes, intentionally light-hearted in the face of their tendency toward heavier topics. "You're really sweet, you know that?" She leans in and presses a kiss to Jim's cheek. "Thanks."

Then as she draws back, she raises her hand up to cover her mouth and stifle a laugh. "Oh shit." That hand moves away so she can rub at his cheek with her thumb instead. "Trace evidence!" Lipstick.

"Thanks, my mom'd be proud to hear you think--"

He stops short at the press of her lips to his cheek, blinking, surprised. The color rises in his face just a degree or two as he glances at her, half a smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

And then she starts trying to rub her lipstick off, and he starts laughing, the slight pinking of his face giving way to a full-on blush as his gaze drops.

"I'm sure it's okay," he assures her, and the temptation to lean into that touch is strong. He likes her, but his feelings on so many things and his situation respective to so many others just makes everything to do with him complicated.

Sometimes he misses the days when he wasn't a responsible person.

Sometimes.

He reaches up, touching her arm lightly, giving her a warm smile.

Complicated is sort of a way of life for Olivia, even before she arrived in Baedal. "I'm sure she's already plenty proud. But I'll add one more feather to your cap gladly." She lets her hand fall again, content that she hasn't left him with any vaguely lip-shaped smudges on his face. "There. No one will be the wiser."

She catches and holds his gaze then, a sort of tension making her chest feel tight as she draws in a deep breath.

He smiles, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. It's a bit of affection, a bit of gratitude. And then he lets go, reaching for his drink again.

"Thank you. You need a refill? I'll go."

That prompts her to raise her glass to polish off its contents and pass it Jim's way. "Yeah. Thanks. I appreciate it." Both for the offer, and for the chance to get a moment to breathe and clear her head. "I'll be waiting right here," she promises cheerfully.

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OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

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