Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Leah Hart (Nurse Practitioner/Counseling) in Quarters: Leah Hart

Posted by Ensign Chandel (Science) in Quarters: Leah Hart

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Leah Hart (Nurse Practitioner/Counseling) in Quarters: Leah Hart
Posted by… suppressed (15) by the Post Ghost! 👻
After shift Chandel was in her quarters changing into a more comfortable caftan and head scarf for the evening when an invitation from Leah pinged through on her comms. Accepting the invitation she finished tucking in the ends of her head scarf around the foil of braids on her head and headed out of her quarters.
Fortunately Leah was on the same deck as Chandel, just on the other end of the corridor so she just had to make her way around the curve of the saucer section.
Reaching Leah’s door, Chandel rang the chime.

Ensign Chandel Sci

“¡Adelante!” Leah said, and the door unlocked for Chandel to enter.

Inside the single berth quarters, Leah was making do with not only the smaller space, but the decided lack of decor. None of her changes were permanent, but she had drastically changed the appearance of the standard space.

Her bed was tucked to one side, with a crocheted cover in dark purples, magenta and mustard circles over top. In the opposite corner was the loveseat and an armchair, both draped over their backs with soft blankets. There was a thin area rug that covered most of the living space in a dark red with traditional floral motifs in blues, oranges and pale yellows.

Floating shelves and a bookcase contained real books, wrought iron candle sticks and a few framed photos. There were a couple antique style travel poster for Córdoba, Spain near her bed and on the wall by the couch was a large tapestry for a Spanish female dancer in a flowy red dress. Next to it was a tall floor lamp with 9 mosaic globes hanging in successive heights. they cast a warm glow of colour.

Atop the low wooden coffee table was a tray with little divisions filled with various beads and a another tray with tools, wire and findings. Leah was sitting on the floor at the table. She looked up and beamed. “Hi! Come on in. I was just gathering supplies.

~Leah Hart, NP

Chandel smiled as she entered, “Hello Leah, how are you?” She looked curiously around for a moment, taking in the decor before moving over to the table opposite Leah and gracefully lowered herself to a lotus position, shifting her long caftan over her knees comfortably. “This is nice, reminds me of my grandmere’s small cabin in the bayou.”

Ensign Chandel Sci

Leah smiled. “Thanks. I don’t think I could bear having plain quarters. I need to feel at ease in my space. And I am pretty well. Was a busy day work-wise, but I am confirmed to have the whole evening and tomorrow morning off, which I intend to enjoy.”

“Can I get you anything to drink? I’m going to open some wine that I’m happy to share, but otherwise I can get a sparkling water, or even brew water for tea?” Leah offered.

~Leah Hart, NP

Bump
OOC:Sorry! Horribly busy week with the auditor:)
IC:

“Some wine would be lovely,” Chandel said with a smile as she continued to look around, nodding. “Yes, this would be a definite break from work, coming in here. I could feel work leaving itself outside the door here. Gives me some ideas for my own quarters.

Ensign Chandel Sci

Leah pushed herself to her feet. “I had to double check what modifications I could make, but I’ve been used to having an apartment that I had a lot of freedom decorating.”

She moved to the side table and within the door was a few bottles of wine she had brought with her for special occasions. This seemed like such an occasion. Grabbing the Bobal, a couple wine glasses from the upper section, and a corkscrew, she moved back to the coffee table and sat back down. Opening the bottle, she set it to the side. “Just going to let breathe for a little bit, but we can chat and work on our art stuff as we wait. I was just laying out my jewellery supplies and trying to decide what I might want to make tonight.”

~Leah Hart, NP

“Do any of the crew order any custom jewelry?” Chandel asked as she leaned forward to look at the array on the table. Pondering if she was to make a jewelry request, what would she ask for.

Ensign Chandel Sci

Leah flushed. “Actually, aside from casually mentioning it to one person, noone knows I do this. I’m still settling in. Haven’t made a lot of friends outside of the medical department.” She broke into a small smile. “But I am not opposed to making something for someone if they like the sorts of things I make.”

~Leah Hart, NP

“I would love to commission some pieces. I prefer similar styles from my bayou at home. The creole jewelry draws inspiration from the natural world and cultural symbols of the region. Alligators, Spanish moss, and crawfish are common motifs, alongside the fleur-de-lis, a symbol of French heritage. We use a lot of gold and silver and like bangles and dangles.”

Ensign Chandel Sci

Leah took in this information with a curious nod. “I will have to look up some of the designs for reference. Would you want a necklace, earrings, bracelet? Something else perhaps?” It was exciting to make something for someone else and it would also be nice to have a more important project than her usual puttering with her own jewellery.

Chandel nodded,” I would love a matching set of two or three necklaces, earrings and a couple of bracelets if it is not too much. I can chip in some replicating credits if you need materials.”

Leah grinned. “Might not be necessary but we’ll see.. I like to collect materials on my travels so I have quite the collection. It’s just tucked away mostly.” She patted the tray in front of her. “This is just a project I was planning that I’d like to work on tonight.”

Smiling, she broke into a fluent French, with an accent from South-western France that might have butted up against the Baque language of parts of her family. “Do you speak French? I know there is a language from that region you mention that includes French, but I’m not sure how similar they are?”

~Leah Hart, NP

“Oui, le français est ma langue maternelle. Dans le bayou, nous apprenons le français comme première langue avant d’apprendre l’anglais.”
Chandel’s smile was very wide as she easily slipped into her mother tongue.

Ensign Chandel Sci

“It’s nice to have common languages,” Leah said. “I have a mixed Spanish. That I was the only one of my immediate family born away off Earth.”

Reaching for the bottle, shhe wasn’t worried about it having the full time to breathe and most people wouldn’t detect the difference. To be fair, she rarely did either. She poured them each a reasonable glass and slid it across to Chandel.

“¡Salud!” she said, holding up her glass.

“Sante!” Chandel responded in French, holding up her own glass and sipped slowly. It was surprisingly good considering it was probably replicated. She loved the chocolate and coffee hints.

Leah brought the glass to her lips and sipped the deep red wine. It had a medium body and was on the drier side and had rich flavours of chocolate, coffee and cheery. It was a lovely evening sipping wine, in her opinion.

~Leah Hart, NP

“Where is your family now?” She asked curiously.

Ensign Chandel Sci

“Aldebaran Three,” she said, managing to not add the thankfully that always traipsed through her mind. Earth and the Sentinel were blessedly far away from her family, most of the time.

“Though my maternal grandmother is still alive and lives in Spain, in Seville. When I was working at Starfleet Medical, I spent quite a bit of time with her.”

~Leah Hart, NP

“Ahh, grandmothers. Do you get along with yours?”
Chandel leaned back in her chair, eyes distant, letting her mind drift far from the hum of starship corridors. She thought of her bayou grand-mère, the woman who had shaped her earliest sense of home. In her mind, the metallic walls of the ship faded, replaced by the warm, weathered wood of a cabin perched on stilts above the slow-moving waters of the Louisiana bayou.

The cabin had always felt alive. Spanish moss hung from the rafters just outside, swaying with the whisper of cicadas and frogs, while the screened porch gave a wide view of the glistening black water and the cypress knees jutting like guardians from the swamp. Inside, every corner held a touch of Cajun French heritage.

Her grand-mère’s walls were lined with woven baskets, cast-iron skillets polished black from decades of gumbo and jambalaya, and hand-stitched quilts patterned with fleur-de-lis and bayou lilies. A crucifix carved from driftwood hung above the door, flanked by tiny bottles of homemade spices and herbs sealed with wax, their scents mingling with the constant aroma of chicory coffee.

The furniture was sturdy but worn, heavy wood carved long ago, softened with embroidered cushions of bright reds and yellows. A rocking chair creaked by the hearth, draped with a crocheted shawl that smelled faintly of lavender and smoke. The old radio on the shelf still crackled out Cajun waltzes when tuned just right, filling the small home with the sound of accordions and fiddles.

Her grand-mère herself would sit at the kitchen table—always covered with a lace cloth—rolling out dough for beignets or stirring a pot while humming in French. The windows were dressed with lace curtains, letting in golden shafts of sunlight that caught the dust and made the air shimmer.

For Chandel, that cabin was more than wood and bayou air—it was sanctuary, memory, and roots. Even across the stars, she carried it with her, tucked away in thought like a charm against the vast cold of space

Ensign Chandel Sci

Leah could tell Chandel was lost in memory and she simply sipped her wine and let her be for a moment.

“My abuela and I are very close,’ Leah said with a deep smile. “The story goes that I got my love of dancing from her. She’s a flamenco dancer and when I was three I was following her about trying to copy her movements,” she said, laughing.

Leah breathed in the memory of that love, that bond. “I think she’s the member of my family that understands me best. My family is… complicated, but with her everything is simple, pure.” She drank from her wine glass and pushed it to the side, pulling the beading tray towards her.

“What about you?”

~Leah Hart, NP

“Ah yes. My grand-mere are as close as you and your abuela. She raised me in the bayou. Her little cabin sat low beneath the shade of moss-hung cypress trees, with a porch that seemed to float over the slow, green water. The air always carried the scent of wet earth, wildflowers, and woodsmoke, and the sound of cicadas was like a constant lullaby.

She taught me how to paddle the pirogue through the narrow canals, how to set crab traps at dawn, and how to read the sky when storms would roll in from the gulf. Inside the cabin, the walls were decorated with handwoven baskets, faded quilts, and crucifixes, all reminders of her Cajun French roots. She spoke as much in French as in English, especially when telling me old stories about the spirits of the swamp, or when singing the soft lullabies that carried me to sleep.

Life with her was simple, but rich—every day filled with hard work, laughter, and the deep stillness of the bayou at dusk. To me, she was strength and comfort all at once, the heartbeat of that watery world.”

Ensign Chandel Sci