Spill The Deets
Posted on Dec 21, 2017 @ 3:51pm by Iphigenia Bonviva
Edited on on Dec 21, 2017 @ 3:52pm
Mission: Fear Itself
"Spill the Deets"
=/\=
Location: USS PHOENIX
Scene: Vulgar Tribble
“I get everything else.”
Tomas Vukovic sat there rubbing his jaw, somewhat bewildered at the surreal conversation. Still sometimes the bewildering journey of a thousand steps began with a single unknowing step; or something like that. Looking at the chef and bartender he said, “Really? The music box--”
“Wack-a-doodle technology,” Iphie replied dismissively with a careless wave of her hand.
The Borg/Human pilot nodded at that; he supposed that was one way of putting it. “A dark terror that took over the ship and took people under without their knowledge or consent?”
The cerulean woman walked over to an old machine and pulled down a lever and steaming liquid came out with a hiss into a small white cup. “There’s some bad voodoo out there,” she said. “And karma will make you their bitch. I don’t recommend it.” Walking back with a foamy cup she smiled, “Keep going, this is fun!”
Vukovic shook his head at that as he took the cup of cappuccino. The steaming cup of caffeine did nothing for him, but he appreciated the cup. The small intimacies, the gestures of normalcy and of friendship. “Ask what you want to know,” he prompted quietly as he sipped the liquid.
Iphie leaned in on the bartop, her gray eyes scanning the Vulgar Tribble. “How did you know?” When the Borg/Human said nothing, the crazy haired chef gave a glare, “Really? You’re going to make me say it?”
“How did I give such a eulogy with little preparation? Well the secret is that I’ve been preparing for years,” Tomas admitted as he put his cappuccino cup down. “One has to when you are friends with a public figure.”
“That’s the answer you give to Cap’n Homie, not to me.” Iphie nudged the saucer that the cappuccino cup was resting on. “What I give I can take away,” she warned.
“You’re not fair,” he sighed.
“Me and the Ferengi,” Iphie agreed. “Spill the deets.”
Tomas gently pulled the cappuccino saucer and cup back towards him. “Most cultures like to believe they are unique, and truly they do have some some special nuances for--”
“DUDE,” Iphie yelled pounding her fist on the bartop, “what part of “spill the deets” did you not understand?”
The pilot smiled gently as he sipped the liquid again, truly sorry that it did nothing for him. “I believe the expression you are looking for, instead of “spill the deets” is “call in one’s chips”.” When Iphie said nothing, the pilot said, “That’s what she’s doing. I would have done it anyway, but she’s relying upon me as one of her daughters godfather, to assist. When I inquired why my services would be needed--”
“She told you,” Iphie nodded.
Vukovic nodded. “I am to be an executor of her will. She has some rather...interesting provisions. I expected no less to be honest.” Shrugging nonchalantly he said, “It’s not my place to judge but to carry out.” Musing he said, “It seems even until the end.” Watching the chef struggle to understand what was going on he said, “If I may step outside my bounds--”
“Oh you’re well beyond stepping, you’re doing the cha-cha now, Cy,” Iphie replied, throwing up her hands.
Vukovic smiled a private smile at that. “Funny, I always was more fond of the waltz.” Shaking off the memory he said, “If you are struggling now with all this and I am struggling as you saw, well then it’s safe to say that others there were struggling.”
“Vonny? I didn’t think they knew each other, but could be wrong. But I mean he’s got that dark broody thing but she ate up that phase in her 20s,” Iphie mused as she dug around her bar looking for something to nosh on.
Tomas bit his lip and tried not to laugh. “And I’m sure you have the deets for that.” He listened as Iphie rattled off various crew while waving around some churros, the Borg/Human waited until she paused before saying, “You know who I’m talking about.”
The pilot watched as chef/bartender straightened up, said nothing but glare, causing the pilot to muse, “Now who is “eating up” the dark broody thing?” As Iphie huffed Tomas gave a kind smile, “Death is not fair, it's not kind, and even if there are warnings it's still too soon. Everyone who is capable of love feels grief.”
=/\=
NRPG: Setting up something for Iphie - just a little character development
Shawn: Iphie would go to Chaucer's service. Or at least set up food for afterwards - whatever you want
Kenneth: Hope I did Vukovic justice.
=/\=
Sarah Albertini-Bond
~writing for~
Iphie Bonviva
Chef/Bartender - Vulgar Tribble
