halvblud

[halvblud]

     He couldn't say that he expected the question, but he definitely didn't imagine ever hearing it from Spock, of all beings. "That's the award-winning answer every male's looking for," he replied after a small cough-clearing of his throat.      The Elvarn ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head once as he realized that his answer wasn't particularly helpful.       "What I mean is that I really don't know how to answer that, so I'm just going to be sarcastic about it."

The Merits of Honesty | Open

In truth, Spock did not know much about Lieutenant Haskar. Just that he was a highly competent member of the bridge crew, and that based on what he knew from his files he perused when creating the bridge schedule, he was half-human, as Spock was.

Between the two of them there was 100% human in there somewhere, so he posed the question:

"Why is it that humans—particularly those of a female variety—profess an affinity for honesty, but when that honesty is presented to them, they often become irritated by it?"

[halvblud]

       Vershen nodded a little with the faint pride that came in the form of followed advice, his feet shifting beneath him as he tried to imagine what scenario had placed the commander under such an action in the first place.         His attention had diverted with the recreation, but snapped back when the smooth voice entered his ears and his mind registered that there was still a conversation at hand. Chin dipped slightly as he answered with a curt "Yes Sir" that rode off the tongue with practiced ease. It wasn't likely that whatever he was going to be asked was truly as personal as the Vulcan prescribed it to be, which made the agreement much easier to make.

The Merits of Honesty | Open

Spock blinked for a moment, registering his words, before reaching up and rubbing his face a little. Sure enough, the burning seemed to subside a little. Hopefully the improvement was showing on his face as well.

"Ah. Yes. It seems to be producing the desired effect," Spock said awkwardly. There was a lingering pause between them—the Lieutenant sipping his tea and Spock standing there trying to get over his sheer and very human mortification. Finally, he decided to get his question out in the open. He hypothesized that if he went to Jim or Doctor McCoy with this issue, he would be mocked for days on end. Perhaps it was best to go about this with someone who could assess the situation with a bit more objectivity.

"…Lieutenant," he said finally, "Might I ask you a relatively personal question?"

[halvblud]

       The risen brow settled back into its proper place as lips pulled into a thin line, the barrier between males of any species concerning embarrassment clearly crossed and highly unsettling. He blankly motioned to the light mark on the Vulcan's cheek, but let his hand fall to his side again.         "If you rub it a bit, the mark will go away a bit faster," he suggested, glancing down to the cup at his side before taking a sip of the wannabe tea within. "Experience proves it."

The Merits of Honesty | Open

Ah. Apparently there had been a witness to the whole ordeal. Much to his chagrin, Spock realized he had not heard the Lieutenant approaching since his senses had obviously been overcome by other matters.

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “Lieutenant Haskar. Greetings.” He attempted a casual nod of his head. Surak, had Ensign Fitzpatrick a fresh backhand…frankly, he was still, as they say, ‘feeling the burn.’ Or maybe that was due to his ears going slightly green with embarrassment.

[halvblud]

      His hand was curled around a particularly unacceptable cup of swill, his legs carrying his body to the lift that would take him to where Vick would certainly be waiting for him, at the precise moment that the echo of palm-to-cheek contact was made. Believing the situation to be no more than a spiced ensign being put back in his rowdied place by a non-taking crewmate, he continued on with hardly any interest in it.        The moment he realized that it was none other than the ship's emotion-suppressed resident Vulcan, his mind was nowhere else.

      "Commander..." the Elvarn questioned with a thick rise of his brow.

The Merits of Honesty | Open

Spock was, admittedly, confused.

He stood in the hallway of Deck 4, gingerly placing a hand on the cheek which had just been slapped—hard—by one Ensign Fitzpatrick.

He did not understand. Ensign Fitzpatrick had sauntered up to him after the duration of her shift in Engineering. Spock had greeted her cordially (for a Vulcan, at least), as they were acquaintances. And the Ensign had asked (quite forwardly, Spock thought) if her new shade of lipstick was preferable to the one she typically wore. Spock replied simply and honestly—Jim had always said “honesty is the best policy”, and after all, Vulcans do not lie—the frankly alarming shade of red made her appear as one of the blowfish-descended creatures often found on Risa.

That was when she’d slapped him.

Humans truly puzzled him.

[halvblud]

     "Why would you be my shot? I don't even know you."

❇ Two ❇

     ”Oh, I’m sorry.  I thought I was your shot.  Silly me.”

[halvblud]

۵ ℰnsign ۵

{ How is my                                                                               favorite e n s i g n ? }                                    ⊱ Turbolift Science

      As he stepped into the lift, he smirked, seeing that familiar squatter of sorts. "I trust it's a good one? Anything I may like?" he asked, motioning to her book.

[halvblud]

❇ Two ❇

      "That was my shot you just walked through."

[halvblud]

ℙardon ℳe‽

{ You look kinda                                                                                                      l o s t . . . }                         ⊱ Personal Assistant To The Government

     He knew that London was not the easiest of places to navigate - hell, one might say it was more difficult than stepping onto a starship for the first time - but this woman looked absolutely clueless as to where she might be. Approaching her with minor caution, he tapped her shoulder and offered a warm, but facaded, smile. "You alright?"

[halvblud]

Headcanon oo1

Disease of the Mind;      Vershen views himself as the disappointment to the Haskar bloodline for his physical "impurity", though he can hardly take blame for his parentage. His mother, Kinta, can not be blamed for falling in love with a human, nor can she be accused of any treachery for creating life with her husband four years into their marriage. However, when the other children wonder why a boy has the pointed ears and a tail of an Elvarn, but bright blue eyes instead of gold, a boy's mind wanders. Even if the other children are merely curious.      Once Vershen came of age to begin making his own decisions, he had the appendage extending from his tailbone removed. This was only after his mother interrupted his own attempt with a very crude pocket knife that ended before he could get to the bone itself. All that is left of the appendage is a nub of flesh and bone that he hides beneath his clothes. Think of a Corgi's tail.      The pointed tips of his ears remain, but are not noticeable as they naturally slimmed as he aged.