USF Personal Log
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JL - A Wolfen Reception - pt. 2 - The After Party

USS Hermes Lounge

by First Lieutenant Leonard Swift, et al.
[Stardate ]


Joint Log - Most of the Crew
Stardate 201605.19
A Wolfen Reception

Two hours later…

The room was spinning as Jerrid looked down at the small glass shot glass filled with Wolfen Tequila. It was his sixth drink, but that was saying a lot. The tequila was strong, but it had a pleasant mellow flavor. Something that was citrusy, yet a fair bit earthy at the same time, something fairly akin to taro root, and sapphire blue in color. It was actually a little on the sweeter side, but as with any potent liqueur, the flavor was overall mild, mellow, with a subtle - yet building - warmth in one’s belly. Often it was served with a slice of tart fruit on the glass.

Her cheeks were pink and she giggled as she sucked on the orange slice she grabbed from the pile in front of her. Marielle narrowed her eyes at the Commodore as he gripped the empty shot glass in his hand. The young engineer eyed her filled shot glass and took a deep breath before tossing her head back as she took the shot. It was smooth as it washed over her tongue but immediately started to burn as it rained down her throat. Immediately, Marielle grabbed an orange slice and sucked on the pulp to remove the sting. “Oh geez, Doc. This stuff is serious business,” she laughed, fanning her face with her hand. The woman tilted back and her hands gripping the edge of the bar counter as she leaned against the Chief, who was standing close behind her.

“Holy mother of…” the Chief exclaimed, his head tilting down to stare at the woman who leaned against his chest without a second thought. He studied Marielle with wide eyes. He never knew the small Asian could drink so much alcohol.

Grinning, Leonard lifted his own glass, the fruit slice being squeezed into his mouth, downing the shot, and taking a deep breath. “Ahhhhhhhyup! That’s what the fruit is for. Complements the flavor.” He said to Marielle, panting a little from where he sat at the table. Like everyone else, the alcohol was making him warm.

“You’re not going to beat me,” Jerrid said. “Have you met Kayshl?” He picked up his glass and gave it a long look. His face was already starting to feel numb. But he was not going to let the junior officer from Engineering beat him in this contest. Taking a deep breath, he raised his glass to his lips, tipped his head back, and poured the drink directly down his throat. It burned… Dear lord, it burned! His throat on fire. But he got it down… barely. He was visibly wobbling on his seat because of the alcohol, but he was determined to beat the young Lieutenant.

“You can’t even beat Kayshl, Jerrid,” Swift interjected, with a knowing and dark smirk.

She could only giggle as the two men bantered over her. “I’m younger than both of you old geezers. Respectfully speaking, of course,” she slurred her words. “There’s no way you could drink me under the table.” Marielle rubbed her thumb and point finger together in attempt to ground herself from the numbing sensation that had created a buzzing sensation through her body. She stared at the shot glass, eying it as if it was some evil monster that was about to devour her. “Augh,” she complained softly. “I don’t know about this.”

“You can do it, Ellie!” screamed Sen cheerfully, throwing her arm over the Chief’s shoulder and leaning her body against his. “Right, Chief?” She giggled, leaning her face close to his. Her face was flushed with the champagne she had consumed.

The Chief was visibly uncomfortable with the Orion’s affections. In fact, the chief was the most uncomfortable person in the room. He kept his eyes focused on Marielle, for addressing the situation with Sen was just too much for his fragile soul to bear.

Leonard lifted his next shot glass. Seventh in front of him. Oh yes. He hardly ever drank, and even if this was a drink from his own world, it was still very strong. “Dae’gra…I’m not as young as I used to be…” He said, leaning forward a little on the table’s edge. “So, what’s the goal of this game now? What’s the number? I’m at…” He finger touched all the glasses one at a time. “...One two three fff… uhm… dammit. One, two three… four.. Fiv-- seven. I’ve had seven so far.” He looked at the small woman, who was keeping up...mostly. “Hrmm.. Mar.. Ello… Bah, your name. It is… too long. Ellie. I’m gonna call you Ellie. Ellie. You should drink another. You are behind. Don’t let the dog beat you, eh?” Those teeth were bared again in that slightly lopsided and drunken grin.

Marielle narrowed her eyes at the Wolfen before they moved to observe the two men who flanked her. The Commodore and the Doctor wobbled a little in their bar stools, but they were proving themselves to be worthy opponents, much to her dismay. She cursed herself for getting into such a quagmire. She was teetering on the very edge of sensibly sloshed and knew that very next shot would have her leaping into the depths of mind-numbingly plastered. “Be careful, Wolf,” she hissed, instantly taking the shot before she could doubt herself again. The liquid burnt as expected, and she shook her head as her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to shake off the mental haze that was growing thicker. “Augh. Woof me to the next galaxy. This stuff is strong.”

“Atta girl! Hey! Guys! She’s catching up! Hey! Sam! Another round, aye? We’re all set!” Swift retorted

Tanok, meanwhile, watched quietly from the corner as the contest unfolded. A small crowd had formed around the three as they tossed back one shot after the next. It was clear the Commodore had a better hold of his alcohol than the other two. And tradition apparently dictated that the groom was not to be outdone on his day of marriage.

So that made his next decision very logical. At least from his perspective.

As the next round of shots were poured, Tanok opened his mind and reached out to the table. Finding the energy around the Commodore and his chair, he locked in and set his plan into motion.

Quite literally, in fact.

Slowly, but surely, he lifted the Commodore and his chair into the air and turned him upside down.

Marielle’s eyes grew wide as she watched the Commodore flip completely. Her mouth dropped as her head tilted back, stopping only as it came in contact with the Chief’s chest. She released a short breath before releasing a bell ringing laugh, light and airy as she relished in his predicament. “You’re upside down!” she squealed in absolute delight as she stated the obvious, nearly falling out of her own chair as she laughed.

Leonard looked up from the small collection of shot glasses that had gathered, about to say something to Jerrid, finger in the air, but not as energetic suddenly. He stared, canting his head sideways a little. “...I’ve heard drinking makes you light headed, but holy hell!”

Krisanthe Samileo reached over and took hold of Tanok’s arm, gripping it hard. “What do you think of the contest?”

He opened his eyes, as Samileo grabbed his arm. Without breaking his lock, he answered calmly and smoothly. “I believe it is a more fair competition at this point. With a little intervention on my part.”

“Well, stop. It’s not your place to decide what’s fair.” The humanoid frowned and shook her head.

“I believe this will provide interesting and entertaining results for all who are participating,” Tanok replied. “If it proves to be unwise, I will put him down. Gently, of course.”

Meanwhile, Jerid was learning how to really hang out. “Holy mother of…” Jerrid shouted, not expecting his chair to rise off the ground. “I’m flying!” Jerrid began singing, unexpectedly. “Look at me, way up high. Look at me, here am I! I’m flying!”

“A true scientist observes without meddling.” Kris released Tanok’s arm and stood, having just sat with him to talk about Korin’Thalas. She decided to keep company with someone else.

Elsewhere, Arian Amunrra sat with her back to the rest of the lounge, instead focusing on Milana. The two were enjoying more quiet company. “And how are the pups?”

“They are kicking,” Mila said. “Wolfen have several children at once, as I’m sure you know. It’s not an easy time. Leonard and I have found I am going to bear four pups.”

Leonard, meanwhile, finally pointed at the commodore.”Okay. Well, you’re gonna hang around it seems, so drink. It’s your turn. I’m...I ah.. I’m curious. How-how you’re gonna drink like that.”

“Lishten,” Jerrid said. ‘It’s not easy to drink when you’re shushpended six feet in the air. Who’s gonna hand me my shot?!”

“You’re the commodore, you figure it out!” said the Wolfen.

“CHIEF!” the Commodore shouted. “Will you do me the honors?”

“Yes sir!” the Chief said, eager to get the Orion off his shoulder. The Chief took the Commodore’s shot and handed it up to his commanding officer, who was still suspended up in the air on his chair. The Commodore took the shot and raised his glass in the air - invertedly - and shouted “FOR CARDASSIA!” and took the shot down quickly. All of a sudden, his chair tipped over and the Commodore fell to the floor. Hitting the floor hard, he was still breathing. But he did not get up again.

Marielle almost fell off her chair as the Chief moved from behind her. “Hey!” she complained, swaying as she tried to grab hold of the filled shot glass on the bar in front of her. Her laughter stopped suddenly as she stared at the glass, seeing more than one moving from side to side. “Uh… Why is the bar moving? Why is it moving?” she asked aloud, desperately trying to reach out for the glass in front of her.    

Sen giggled. “The bar isn’t moving, Ellie! You are!”

“My shot glass won’t stop moving!” Marielle wailed desperately, her head tilted to the side as she stared at the Vulcan who was so stoically staring at their group. “Hey! You! You should- you should join us!” she shouted gleefully as she pointed at Tanok. The young woman shifted in her barstool, swaying side to side as she giggled, “Right, Doc? He should join us? Right? Right? Right?!”

“Do Vulcans drink?” the Chief asked, looking to Tanok with a look of confusion.

Slowly and carefully, Tanok turned the Commodore upright again and placed him upon the ground, mildly impressed. After releasing his lock, he turned back to the group. “I believe I am comfortable watching from here. But thank you for the invitation. We have been known to drink one beverage on occasion. Perhaps I will join you later.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at the Chief when he returned to his spot behind her. Marielle snorted. “I can see up your nose!”

The Chief immediately put his hand up to his nose, for he feared that nose hairs may have been sticking out making him look ugly. Sen seemed not to notice. Or care.

Marielle turned her head to focus on the Wolfen beside her, narrowing her eyes at Swift. “Hey Doc?” she asked, slurring as she swayed, “I bet you can’t purr.”

Swift finally snapped out of his daze. The alcohol was wearing on him, and he took a moment of blinking at Marielle to process what was said. “Wha…? Oh. Jerrid. I think… I think he’s done. He’s still breathing…” He said, working on one mental process at a time. His eyes then followed the finger that the small woman pointed at the Vulcan. “Tanok? Hey! Tanok! Y’ain’t had a drink all night! On my wedding night! You’re the only one! I’m about to start num...ah, number eight! Y’gotta catch up!” he called out and finally got to the last bit. “Purring. No. I don’t… I don’t think so. I’ve never tried. I… Ehh…” A noise began in his throat. A sort of… grumbling… growly… a sound that was more like someone trying - badly - to clear their throat. It sounded very unappealing. “...Maybe Amunrra can?” He grinned then. “Ellie. I bet you can’t do this.” His tongue slipped out, curled up, covered his nose, and went up over the bridge of his muzzle.

She stared at the tongue and wrinkled her nose. “Oh ew. I don’t want to eat my snot!” she exclaimed with absolute dread.    

“I didn’t say go UP your nose…” Leonard mused, turning as another round of drinks were delivered. “Yes! Hey! Another round!”

Not wanting to upset the groom, following marriage tradition, Tanok walked over and sat at the bar. He turned around to check and make sure his wife was alright, seeing her engaged in other small talk across the room. “So be it then. I wish for you to have a pleasant evening Doctor. So I shall share a drink with you.” He waited patiently for the bartender to return and quietly ordered two Vulcan Brandys.

“THE FRAKKING RASPBERRIES!” suddenly screamed Redshirt, ripping his dress uniform from his chest. He grabbed his hair, pulling it from its roots.    

Marielle’s head snapped around. “I- I think- Redshirt has had too much,” she giggled brightly, pointing at the young man as he jumped onto a table and exposed his pale white chest to the wedding guests. She stood, swaying as she steadied herself by grasping the edge the bar, and carefully hoisted herself up to sit on the counter. Her leg threw itself over the other, her dress riding up over her knees as her legs kicked to and fro. She leaned back and grabbed a lemon, focusing her sights on the young ensign just a few meters away. Her hand gripped the lemon tightly as she released it in Redshirt’s direction. It barely missed the young ensign, cutting through the wild hair that stuck out from his head.

He swayed but stopped as the lemon whizzed by his head. “Hey! She’s trying to kill me! Did you see that?! She’s trying to bloody kill me!”

She sighed. “If I was trying to kill you, I would have used my arrow,” Marielle muttered, grabbing another lemon and prepared to throw it.

Sen stared at Marielle. “Ellie, you need to take your shot! ...Of tequila!” the Orion giggled, wrapping her arms around the Chief’s tightly and pulling herself closer to him. She purred as she stared at him.

The Chief could not have felt more uncomfortable. He was trying hard to release his grip from the Orion, but no matter how hard he tried, he just could not release her grasp.

“Oh yeah!” Marielle reached over, quickly took the shot without thinking, and just as quickly released the lemon that she gripped tightly in her hand. It missed Redshirt, sailing past him and hitting Peterson square on the nose. The young engineer’s eyes grew wide before she released a wild peal of laughter as her self-proclaimed nemesis gripped his nose and fumed at her.

Leonard, eyeballing the small woman, lifted his own shotglass, and matched her. He chose not to throw a lemon though. By now, however, things were starting to spin a little. “Mmf.. Y’know… Not.. not gonna lie. I’m pretty fffffffffrakkin hammered.”

She giggled, leaning forward enough that she was endangered of falling off the bar counter. Marielle snickered, her ability to keep her balance long gone. “Pfft,” she raspberried as she teased, “you lightweight!” Marielle hiccuped and covered her mouth as the sound escaped her lips. “Oh! I should be one to talk!”

“Heh...lighweight...You almost lost..ha, almost lost the table a minute ago! Sam! ‘Nother round!”

Tanok casually sipped his brandy, watching this scene unfold. “I had nearly forgotten the effects actual alcohol has on the developed mind…”

She eyed the Vulcan. “Awesome, right?” she grinned at him, struggling to grab a shot glass by her side. When her fingers were finally able to grip the smooth glass, she offered it to him. “You have to catch up to us, uh, what’s your name again?”

Tanok took the glass gingerly and carefully from her grasp and set it down on the table. “My name is First Lieutenant Tanok of the USS Hermes. And I believe you have had too much to drink.”

She chuckled. “Well, clearly!” she cheered. “But, that’s the point.” Marielle winked in his general direction.

“It is a game of… some kind of test. Not what we did in the univershe I chame from… but My Mila did tell me this was a thing among males… So did a few other of my people here, actually,” clarified Leonard.

“Tanok would never drink with us,” the Chief said. “It’s not logical for a Vulcan to try new experiences. It’s just too much for their limited mentality.”

Marielle grinned in his direction, dangerously swaying forward as her body moved side to side. Her eyes tried to focus on the shot glasses by her hand. They seemed to multiply before her very eyes - one becoming two and suddenly four. “Oy! No fair giving me more drinks than the Doc!” She threw her arms in the air and wrapped them around the Wolfen’s neck. “Doc! Your wedding is the best! I think it was even better than my own!”

Sen laughed loudly, releasing the Chief from her grasp and hopped onto the bar counter to join Marielle. She threw her bare arm over the young engineer’s shoulder and grabbed Marielle’s shot, the liquid sloshing as she waved it about. “You’re so drunk, Ellie! You were never married!”

“Was to!” Marielle protested, taking the shot from Sen and downing the remaining contents. “For eight months, almost nine.” She sighed, leaning against the Orion before she continued her story. “It was a whirlwind event, complete with an Admiral Kirk impersonator in New Vegas on Neptune.” The words slurred as her speech pattern slowed. “Best bar of latinum I ever spent. He even sang ‘Rocket Man’ for us.”    

Seeing the Commodore on the floor and Marielle nearly there, Kiki just shook her head, that talk with the petaybees (PTBs-Powers That Be) would have to wait about Soandso. She pulled out one of her flasks, making sure that it was the non alcoholic version and went over to Tanok, ”Sir, would you like to try some of the mead I was working on, on our way here?” She’d understand if he didn’t. ”Chief, it might well be that those drinks you prefer are too raw and unsophisticated for the more cultured Vulcan palate. I have known them to try new experiences in the past.”

Seeing Ellie and her Orion friend in the condition they were, she decided to help them with the contest by waking them up via the tried and true “ice cube down the back” treatment to the two of them.

Marielle and Sen screamed as ice trailed down their bare backs and both women fell off the bar counter as they tried to escape the frigid cold that assaulted their senses. Sen ran straight into the Chief’s arms. “Chief! Save me! I’m so cold! Warm me up, please!” she pleaded, wrapping her arms around the man, effectively trapping his arms to his side.

Marielle only collapsed into a heap on the floor, her legs splayed to the sides under her, kneeling. Her head bobbed up and down slowly as she swayed from side to side. The world spun as she tried to focus her sights on the people who towered over her. “Whoa.” Her breath was heavy with the scent of Wolfen tequila and orange. “The grav plates must be broken. The ship is spinning.”

Kiki giggled as she managed to get Ellie back on a chair and then tried to get Sen in one next to her. It was a definite struggle.

The Orion protested, her grip tightening around the transporter officer. “No! Nooooooo!” she wailed. “Don’t let her take me away from you, Chief!”

Kiki had heard about the Love sick Orion women with their irrepressible pheromones and hormones and she pitied the harried Transporter Chief for the predicament he was in and tried to help him out by tickling Sen’s sides till she let the chief go. She nodded to the chief to try to make himself scarce while the Orion woman was somewhat preoccupied.

Marielle giggled as she made herself spin on the bar stool. “Whee!” she exclaimed, her eyes crossing as she tried to keep up with the world around her. Momentum and her drunken state had her falling on the floor, again, before she could fathom holding onto the stool. “Oooomph!” The young engineer giggled as she flopped back against the bar, her knees pulled together with her legs splayed to the sides. Her fingers gripped the hem of the dress and began to sway the fabric lightly from side to side. “I feel pretty, oh so pretty!” she sang. While her voice was beautiful, her ability to carry a tune was less than desirable when she was in such a state.    

Hearing Marielle sing was grating on Kiki’s ears and she started howling, trying to drown out the singing at least for a few moments. “Ellie you have a beautiful voice but you need singing lessons.”

Her lip pushed out into a deep pout. “It’s not my fault!” she wailed. “It’s the alcohol! Ha...Al-Kee-Hall…”” Marielle staggered to her hands and knees, crawling towards Leonard’s legs and gripping his pants to help herself up to a stand, causing him to grab at his pants to make sure they stayed on. She tilted this way and that as she tried to address the Wolfen, staring him straight in the eyes. “You win this ro- ro- round, you canine,” Marielle paused as she hiccuped, her eyes glazing over as it tried to settle on Kiki.

“Nnnnghsure. I win. Thank the Goddess, too. Bah, you-you all have… uhm...A thing.” The Wolfen was knackered so hard by this point, that the thought train derailed entirely, and he was left to stand with the tiny woman holding his pants and looking up at his face.

Marielle’s eyes moved between the Wolfen and the Zinri and a confused expression overtook her face. “Hey Adam! When did we get to the zoo?! Can we go see the panda foxes first? I love the panda foxes!” She stumbled away from the bar and falling on the Chief and Sen. “Adam? You’re not Adam.”

Looking over at the Doc, Kiki grinned.” What number are you on now, Little Brother? I think I heard eight… set them up for me, I’ll try the challenge, too.” She liked the fruit addition to the idea of the alcoholic drinks and began downing all eight shots back to back with no noticeable effects. The one thing that the Shore Patrol hated her about was she could be legally drunk by shot count but she never get drunk. Alcohol had absolutely no effect on her, Tomatoes, their juice and other byproducts were another story altogether.    

The Doc simply stared at Kiki, his eyes fairly hazy anymore. “But… it’’s not a challenge for you, Kiki. Alcohol don’t bother you. That-At’s... cheating,” he said, remembering some of the information from the exam he’d given the Zinri. “I-I’m… I’m not gonna… try to out drink you.”

“Well I could go with some bloody marys to even the score if you want…” She winked at her Little Brother before helping Marielle over to a solid chair with arms so she would be less likely to fall out of it.    

Leonard shrugged. “Nnnnoooo… I think… I think we’re done with the game, but if uhh, if you wanna drink with us, you’re welcome to!” He’d plop back on the chair at the table, sitting a little heavily, and take a moment to think. For the good it would do. “Bloody Mary? What’s that supposed to even do. Those things taste horrid.”

“ From what I know it’s vodka and tomato juice with celery salt and a few other things, probably the equivalent power to your tequila.”

Blurred eyes looked at the table in front of him, the glasses were spinning a little, and exhaustion was starting to set in. Glancing up, the weary Wolfen considered for a moment before looking back down. So tired. Maybe just rest the eyes for a moment…

And with that, the Wolfen passed out in his chair.

This was by far, the best wedding reception ever.
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