Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Rand wasn’t sure what to do but she wanted to help. “Do you want to go back to sleep or we could watch a movie…” She just wanted him to feel better.

Rand

Roman settled in against her, resting his head on her, and shrugged at first but then turned to look at her, “Won’t a movie make your head worse?”

~ Roman

Rand blinked, oh…maybe. “Well it’s not right in front of me and I can close my eyes and just listen if it bothers me. That would be okay. Randy?” He looked over and nodded, “Yeah, as long as you are careful. You’ve been asleep most of the day, and rested. You could try.”

Rand

Setting aside the water bottle Randy had given him, he looked at Rand. “What about lines? We haven’t done any of your plays in months. And your head is getting better.” He knew how much she usually loved them. He also remembered she was having trouble remembering the plays and her performances. He was still sure getting her to read them would help her remember.

~ Roman

“L…l…l…lines?” No, she couldn’t do lines. No. She tried, alone, when no one knew. She couldn’t do it no matter how much she wanted to. She looked at her brother, the trepidation and sadness clear, even without hands that shook before she could hide them. “R…r…randy I…I…I can’t do that r..right? I’m not s…s..supposed to r…read or anything.”

Randy tipped his head looking at her. Like Roman he had been trying to get her to read, to practice, to remember her lines. It was such a part of her and it broke his heart that she refused to try. “You’ve slept all day and all night. You can do an hour or so. You are allowed a few hours a day.” He turned to Roman, “Just watch for signs she’s had too much. Slurring, not stuttering, dizziness even while sitting, trouble translating, saying things that don’t make sense, sudden headache. An hour or so should be fine.”

Of course Randy sided with Roman. They both wanted her to return to such a favored past time. She stared at her hands, she wanted to cry. She couldn’t remember! She tried! She did. More than anything else she wanted to remember those characters, their personas, their essence. They were cherished and priceless pieces of armor to protect the pitiful thing she was. Women who were confident, brave, intelligent, witty, persistent. Everything Miranda Farquharson was not.

She could see Roman out of the corner of her eye, watching her, the look deep in his eyes, trying not to remember what today was. Oh what a coward she was, to hide away for fear of not remembering when her beloved Roman couldn’t stop remembering, everyday, but especially today. She wanted desperately to be able to agree, to do this for him, but fear of disappointing him, of not remembering made the words stick in her throat.

Rand

Roman smiled and put and arm around her, grabbing his PaDD off the side table. He had all her favorite scripts saved to it. “I think it’ll help. Maybe not immediately, but I really, honestly do. Would it be easier to start with one you hate, like Scarlett Letter, or one you really like, like…” His gaze took on that robin hood look and he cuddled further into her, “Pride and Prejudice?“

~ Roman

Randy smirked and gave Roman a little wave then collected his things and left. Rand was more likely to relax without an extra audience. Especially since Randy had seen all her performances in person. H e knew exactly how amazing she was. To Rand his absence would mean no expectations.

Roman slipped his arm around her a d she leaned into him stiffly. He wanted her to try, he thought it would help, to try. His words echoed what she had told him a year ago. That healing from the trauma would get worse at first but then it would be better, but he had to try. So now he wanted her to try. She sighed sadly Rand made a face at The Scarlet Letter. She had despised that one so much she had turned the role down.

Then Roman was giving her that look. The one that made her blush and feel warm and giddy. His breath feathered and tickled behind her ear and she relaxed some with a tiny laugh. It occured to her, and made her look up at him suddenly, he wanted to read Pride and Prejudice with her. Not any play, though he would, but that one. It made her blush brighter and duck her head. She didn’t want to, she’d disappoint him.

She pulled her knees to her chest, curled in a small ball of anxious sadness. How could she tell him no? She could not be that cruel. Watching his face made her blush again and she found herself nodding, whispering a tiny “okay” in agreement. She would try.

Rand

Roman’s smile widened a little and he pulled up the script. Then he skipped straight on to the first scene with Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, the dance scene at the beginning of the story. If she was finally, at last going to really try doing lines, Roman was going to make it worth it. He’d studied the movie and the video of Rand’s own performance up, down, left, right, and sideways, and then asked Randy for help perfecting it. A Darcy impression. He sat up slightly and began, in his best, worthy of his grandmother posh accent, deepening his voice slightly to better match Mr Darcy’s, with the first line Darcy speaks to Elizabeth: “I thought that poetry was the food of love.” Then he shifted the PaDD so Rand could see Elizabeth’s reply. He was aware that previously, she would not even need to see it to remember it, but for now he knew she would, so he set it up where they could both see it.

~ Roman

Rand stared at the words, ink on a page was all it was (well pixels on a screen). She read the stage directions, the choreography notes, body language and facial expression. Notes scribbled on the side in her hand. These were copies of her scripts! But they all meant nothing, they triggered no memory, no inspiration, no words tumbled out of her mouth. But Oh Roman’s breeding and training perfectly out matched any imagined or pretend Darcy. The significance of dazzling reality vs pale fiction.

Her eyes scanned up to the top of the page. Dancing and conversation, she read the steps and tried to imagine the rhythm of the music to time her words as they would meet and then part and meet again. She couldn’t capture it, she couldn’t hear it…Elizabeth was teasing? Yes teasing Mr Darcy about love and poetry and common conceptions. Rand licked her lips trying the words in her head. They felt…flat. she didn’t want to do this, she couldn’t find Elizabeth’s voice. She took a breath, reading the words as a school child just learning to decipher, her voice stumbling and stuttering embarrassingly over the speech. “Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I’m convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.”

Rand

Roman seemed unbothered by her stumbling reading of the line. She would get back into it, he was certain. The notes on the page, they were all Rand’s, pertaining to the role of Elizabeth. He read the next reply how he supposed it should, based on the movie and on the actor from Rand’s performance. “So what do you recommend, to encourage affection?” He looked from the script, to Rand, fighting the urge to smile.

~ Roman