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 (19) 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

“Dancing…” Rand’s voice trailed off as she skimmed ahead in the line. She didn’t see Roman’s attempt to hide his smile or how happy this was making him. She loved dancing with Roman. Valentine’s had been like a fairy tale, but she had no hope of doing such again. Like the lines that had once been etched in her memory, lessons and choreographed steps and dances had been flash burned from her memory with the explosion. Left behind was the clumsy inadequate girl she had fought so hard to hide. “D d dancing. Even if one’s partner is b b b barely toler r r able.” For certain it had and it would continue to engender deep affection on her part, but she was harsly a tolerable dance partner for Roman anymore.

Rand

Roman looked at her as she stuttered, with affection and love. It would all come back. It had to. But even if it didn’t, he didn’t care. She was still his Miranda and he still loved her. He pulled her closer, “I’d dance with you now if I could.” Then he skipped ahead a little, to the next scene that was shared by both characters and read the line with the same enthusiasm, then looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to say hers.

~ Roman

Pulled closer Rand smiled sadly, her fave hidden some by her hair. If he was better, even if she was not, she would dance with him, though he was certain to find her less than tolerable. His compliment eased some of the ache in her chest to know he had enjoyed that moment as much as she had.

As with the previous scene she scanned the pages, the descriptions, the her notes. This was a favorite book, she should at least remember that much. She fought for some memory that wouldn’t surface. Mr Bingley and his sister were going on about accomplished young women and Darcy was applying his rather high standards to all. That did make Rand smile for just a moment as the comparison to Roman flitted about her mind. Her smile brought a tone of amusement to her words, “Goodness! You must comprehend a great deal in the idea.” Rand didn’t feel it or notice but her own tone reflected the teasing amusement of Elizabeth’s words.

Rand

“I do.” Then there was a line from Caroline Bingley which he repeated in a somewhat ridiculous tone meant to sound something resembling feminine. He would make an utter fool of himself if it would make Rand feel better. Then, “And of course she must improve her mind by extensive reading.” She sounded a little better this time, her voice taking on the amusement appropriate for the line, but not the tone she used for Elizabeth. It was closer. That was what mattered.

~ Roman

She peeked at Roman as he read the line for Caroline Bingley. He sounded so ridiculous but he was smiling. He was having fun and distracted, so she would keep trying. There were notes there referring to later passages. Elizabeth’s feelings that Miss Bingley was totally absurd and nothing but a pretty piece of statuary, and Elizabeth’s own total disregard for whether she met Darcy’s standards or not. That Miss Bingley detested Elizabeth because she could see how Darcy admired her. “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.” The lines sounded hollow to her.

Rand

“Are you so severe on your own sex?” That line Roman didn’t like. It reeked of old style sexism. Still, he pronounced it with his posh accent, similarly to how the actors in the movie and the video had done. He looked down at her, waiting for her to say hers. It was like he got a little stab of joy every time she said one, even if she still wasn’t quite back to her usual self.

~ Roman

It was a sentiment that made the ton so unlikable as the world became modern. Roman sounded…old world. That wasn’t a bad thing either. Not in Rand’s mind. There was also a sense of chivalry and responsibility that came with it. In a way the world had forgotten. It was a delicate balance of power and freedom and equality. Again she glanced at the notes - marks, comments, single words, even doodles that she was sure she knew the meaning of before. “I…I…I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.” She scanned the next lines, the scene went quiet, but Caroline was full of machinations it seemed and orders Elizabeth to walk about the room with her. Rand reads the lines, normally taking on a different tone, but she only manages to slightly mimic Roman’s silly attempt at a girly voice as Caroline comments that walking is refreshing after sitting for so long. “And it’s a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.” Then the obvious and annoying Miss Bingley begs Darcy to join them. Rand stares at the notes trying, so desperately to remember, the more she tries to force the memory the more her chest hurts with building anxiety. How horrible she must sound to Roman.

Rand

Roman hated how old-world he sounded sometimes, it reminded him far too much of the world he came from, of his family. But there were some habits he could not break, would probably never break, and that was what led to his earlier comment to Randy. He went ahead in a second obnoxious, approximation of a feminine voice, “Mr Darcy, will you join us?” Then Darcy’s line he spoke in his posh accent, “You can only have two motives, Miss Bingley, and I would interfere with either.” Then he switched back to the feminine voice, “What can he mean?”

~ Roman

Rand was quite familiar with those habits, but he didn’t use them to make himself above people. Rather he was respectful, listened, treated everyone equally. Did he hold extremely high standards? Yes he did, and some people chafed under them, but no one could say he played favorites or made it impossible to reach those standards. It was also one of the things Rand loved about him. She never had to guess at what he wanted, and Rand never minded high standards. Rand laid her head against him as she skimmed the notes again. They said Elizabeth was playful and teasing. She tried but it came out shy. “Our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.” Rand gripped his hand suddenly, trying to get her voice to sound a bit like when she asked Randy for something as she mimicked Caroline, “Please tell us!” Her head shook slightly setting her hair sway and bounce and she sighed sadly.

Rand

She was trying harder! Roman felt like he was succeeding, and he smiled again. It came out more shy than teasing, but it would get there. He imagined her teasing voice, like when she offered up the emerald night gown and hinted at what she was doing when Randy was around in that teasing tone. He went back to the posh accented deep voiced Darcy impression and said the line with a little sass and a lot of prideful attitude: “Either you are in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the graetest advantage by walking. If the first, I should get in your way. If the second, I can admire you much better from here.” With the last sentence of the line, when he said ‘I can admire you much better from here’, he emphasised the much because he was looking at Rand, with a very loving look like he was absolutely enthralled mixed with the robin hood look.

~ Roman

When he stressed the word, Rand peeked up at him again. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks and make her flush. Darcy wasn’t supposed to look at Elizabeth like that…not yet. Or…? Was he? She didn’t know and that was not in her notes. She opened her mouth, willing the words to tumble out, but they didn’t. Her eyes slipped away from him and stared at the page. It was a small exchange between Elizabeth and Caroline. It came quiet with no feeling. Even with Caroline’s idiotic discourse. “Oh, shocking! How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

“We could always tease him.”

“Oh no, Mr Darcy is not to be laughed at!”

The notes said that Elizabeth met his gaze with laughter and challenge, but Rand only stared at the page. “Are you too proud, Mr Darcy? And would you consider that a fault?”

Rand

“That I couldn’t say.” Roman recited Darcy’s next line, keeping up the enthusiasm even as Rand spoke quietly and without much emotion or variance. He squeezed her tight to him and smiled again.

~ Roman

The sudden tightness of his arms around her, almost made her exhale a sob. She swallowed it back. Roman, at least, was enjoying himself, she wouldn’t ruin that. She read the next line. “For we’re trying to find a fault in you.”

Rand

“Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offences against myself. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” Roman looked down at her and smiled. He had missed this with her and he wished she’d enjoy it like she used to. He was still making sure to act extra enthusiastic and happy, so she would want to do it. The bright side of that was with the meds still keeping him relaxed and drowsy, and all his focus on this, he felt less like there was something in the back of his mind he was obviously ignoring, trying to stay away from.

~ Roman

Rand remembered reading lines with him before. Going back, trying scenes again with different presentations and feeling, pacing about the room, acting out the stage directions. Roman smiling or occasionally giving her a quiet look that she knew meant he enjoyed watching her. Gone…that was all gone now. Nothing left but herself. That was poor compensation.

This line was supposed to carry a solemn tone. Rand managed that. It wasn’t hard with how she felt, but her countenance was supposed to be teasing as she met Darcy’s gaze. Brazen was the term scrawled in the margin. Rand couldn’t get her gaze (she wasn’t looking at him though) to defy the tone of her words. “Oh dear, I cannot tease you about that. What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.”

It was the end of that scene, at least between Elizabeth and Darcy. Despite how desperately she wanted to stop this farce, Rand didn’t object as Roman turned to the next scene, grinning happily at her. She had promised to try.

Rand

Roman stopped on a page, looked at Rand, and, “May I have the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?” He hoped this wasn’t too hard for her. He did not miss the way she tensed, the way she looked frustrated with herself when the line came out flat or not with the intended emotion. He was still convinced this would help, that actually saying them again would help her memory.

~ Roman