[Massive Beach Party Thread!] -- [Everyone]

[kirktastic]

Communication to All

Your oh so lovely Captain has reserved an entire bar for our use for our final night on Risa! You can get the position of it from the attached file. Nice little place, tucked up on the beach and right up against the waterline, full bar with everything you can imagine! I'll be seeing you all around sunset!


[OOC: This thread can run as long as we need it too, far past the 'end' of Risa Saturday night. Feel free to post anywhere, there's no order, who gives a damn about how the thread looks, just HAVE FUN!]

Comments

Re: Bones/Harold

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

Noticing Scotty's absence, Harold had left Pavel with a quick whispered goodbye. Not spotting him anywhere in the place, he'd slipped outside instead.

"Dunno, man. I could've used the help," Harold answered. "Listen, not that I'm not happy to see you, but-- I'm looking for a dark-haired guy, about yay high, cuts on his face? Last saw him dancing with a blonde lady, but I thought I saw-- Anyway. Seen him?"

Re: Bones/Harold

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, he was here a bit ago," McCoy nodded, speaking slowly, as if to counter Harold's quick speech. "Fixed up his face, last I saw he was with Christine, getting something to eat."

Taking another sip, he looked closer at Harold's face. "So, what happened to the two of you?"

Re: Bones/Harold

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"He's okay, yeah? Alive and happy?"


He paused, trying to collect all the memories of the past week. "Fishing," he said absentmindedly, shaking his head. "And then something about some dock hands. For him, anyway. Me? There was this bar fight... and I'm a moron, so I went back to the same area a couple of days later. Got my ass handed to me. Pavel handed it back, though. Mostly."

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Yes, yes, and I dunno," Bones laughed, slouched comfortably in his chair, then began shaking his head. "Not that it's required, but for most people shore leave's supposed to be restful."

He sat up, stretching a little. "Let me see your face," he replied in that slow tone, nodding at the chair next to him. "Sit."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

Well, he was hardly going to disobey, was he? He sat and leaned his head to the side, allowing McCoy access.

"Restful is relative," he muttered with a small grin. "What are you gonna do?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Fix that cut. Hold on," he said, standing and pulling his little gadgets out of his pocket.

"Damn, why didn't you guys go the clinic here?" he growled at Harold as he lifted his chin and began sealing the small cuts on his face. "This might scar, you know. Serve you right."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"...kinda proud of them," Harold admitted quietly. He didn't want a scar, but he had wanted to heal on his own.

Oh well.

"Lots of shit changed in a week. Kinda liked that it showed on my face. Thought people might stop calling me Sulu."

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Then they get infected, and you get a Risian fever, have to have your blood cleaned, stuck in sickbay for a week," he grumbled as he finished the last of them. "Lots of things you can do to look different, Harold. Your hair's sort of different already."

But McCoy sensed there was something more to that statement. "Last time we talked, you two were pretty tight. That some of the shit that's changed this week?"

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"I'm skinnier than he is," Harold pointed out. It seemed obvious to him. "He's broader, stronger. At the shoulders, and chest. Even a little around the face. He's-- well, he's different. May have started the same, but he's in Starfleet, so it's just natural he'd be-- better, yeah?"

So much to explain, no words for some of it. "I guess it has changed. Blown apart, come back together again. And Pavel-- well. Heh. It's... crazy."

Harold wasn't sure he should ask, but he thought talking about himself so much was pretty rude. "What about your week, man?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Better?" Bones rolled his eyes, didn't like that word, not used like that. "He's not better, just different. I'm sure you have... useful skills," he drawled, smirking a little to show him he was trying to be funny.

Pavel. Bones took another long sip, finishing his drink as the waitress brought him another, and was rewarded with a smile. Last one, he told himself, not really meaning it. "Want a drink?" he asked before realizing Harold had asked him a question.

"My week?" Another smile, this one smaller but more genuine. "Been real good, thanks."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

More drinking. Awesome. Good night.

"Absolutely, yeah. As for useful skills-- I'm good with numbers. Money. Paperwork. That's about it. Scotty taught me a couple of things with an engine, but only enough to get by for a day. I'm decent with a bandage, but only because I lived with a trainee doctor for a while, and I'm accident-prone." He paused, and muttered as an afterthought: "When Hikaru's head is open, I can see some of how to work the helm. Probably only enough to be dangerous, anyway."

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Jack of all trades, master of none," Leonard said in a sing-song voice. "My mom used to say that." Fuck, he was getting nostalgic tonight. "Sounds like you are what she used to call a Renaissance man. You know what that means?" he asked, his eyes looking at the water ahead.

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"Ah, no." He wondered where this was headed. The doctor looked a little preoccupied, but Harold wasn't sure pushing him was a good idea. "Can't say I do."

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Means you have a variety of interests. Luckier than most, you can head in any direction you want." He hadn't had that choice. McCoys are doctors, he'd heard from the time he was very small. "You just need to pick what you want to do."

He turned back to Harold. "Any idea what it is you might want to do?"

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

Hikaru and Pavel.

It was his first thought. He shook it off. That should be part of his life, not all of it.

It was a long time before he answered. He tried on various ideas; he couldn't see himself in medical paperwork, really, though he'd been efficient enough before-- yeah. He could try his hand at engines with Scotty, if he'd have him, but he didn't think the Enterprise would be anything close to a day by the docks with small craft.

Everything he thought of involved leaving, probably for schooling or training. For a long time.

He could stand around and water Hikaru's plants. If they didn't water themselves.

"You've stumped me, dude. Where do you need people good with numbers? Oh, that reminds me-- do you think, when you can, I could get my earpiece?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Navigation, I think. Transporter room has got a lot of math-based applications." McCoy looked at the stars again. "I had always thought that stellar cartography would be fun, but that's a lot of numbers. Practically astrophysics, and," he shook his head, "I've have never been any good at that. Point is, there's lots of stuff to do, but fuck, Harold, you're not gonna be ready right away." He took a long sip and a deep breath. "Find a department, apprentice yourself out, and learn. Best learning, right on the job."

Bones laughed... "Hell, look at George," he pointed at Harold with his drink. "Poor bastard's been out of the look for twenty-five years, and he's decided to stay with us, find out all he's missed, and make a new life for himself. You could do that too."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"That transporter thing freaks me the fuck out, I'm not even shitting you," he said quickly. "Not sure exactly what stellar cartography entails, but maybe I'd get to see some interesting shit. Learning, I can do--"

Wait. Come again?

"--25 years?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, you know, George? Jim's dad?" Bones looked at Harold. Maybe he didn't know. "You met George Kirk?" he asked, wanting to make sure they were talking about the same person.

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"I've... met George, yeah. Didn't-- catch the other part of that name."

Jim being... the Captain. Wow. It wasn't that it bothered him. It was pretty weird, but that was normal for this place. He just didn't see how.

"What the hell happened?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

Fuck... Harold was from another dimension, of course he didn't know who George Kirk was. Way to go, McCoy, he told himself...

Another long drink. "Long story short, George was killed twenty-five years ago. One day he appears on board the Enterprise, just like the rest of you all. So he's made up his mind to stay, to try and pick up where he left off, and to stay near Jim."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"He died--? Jesus Christ, no wonder he called that fucking bar a bunch of pussies." Harold would be pretty fucking ready to fight the world after that, too.


"Is he, you know. Okay?"

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

Bones shrugged. "Would you be okay? Are you okay?" He sighed. "I dunno... he's got a second chance, and he's grabbing it with both hands. Gotta respect that." And that was all he was going to tell Harold about George's mental health.

"How did you two meet? Bar fight?" he asked, only half-serious until he remembered the injuries on George's face the day they went surfing together. "Yeah, that was you, wasn't it. Had to fix up his face too," he growled.

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"Sorry," he said, not quite sure why. Well. It was his spilled water that set it off. "We met 'cuz I fucked up, bad, and wanted to get shitfaced. Sheer blind luck that he was sitting there. Sat with me through the worst fucking night of my life. He's a really, really good dude. And he kicked some serious ass. I ducked a lot."

[dctr-mccoy.livejournal.com]

"Sounds like you got lucky there. George is a great guy," he told Harold. "Good friend of mine, and if he likes you, then you probably made a friend for life too."

"My point is - decide what you want to do, and do it. Yeah, it's gonna be hard, but fuck, everything is hard. You've done the hardest part already, Harold. You're your own person."

Speaking of... "Remind me when we're back on board, and I'll get you that ear piece."

[haroldlee.livejournal.com]

"I think I have to talk to the Captain before I decide anything. Make sure I can stay, you know?" As for his own person-- "I'm trying to be, anyway. Thanks; I will."

It's not that he wanted the thing. Or needed it, really. He just wanted to be equal. He knew Hikaru would understand.

A waitress arrived with a drink, and he settled back to sip it.