“That sounds marvelously intimate,” he said, earnestly. It was. It was more than anything he could imagine. And that was saying something from a joined Trill. As an engineer he could follow the ‘connectivity’ of everything. As a being, he was a little more hesitant, however, but there was an inner excitement about it all. He could communicate with Thor but that was more a physical and electric connection with his own nervous system. “You are amazing,” he said, honestly. He wondered hat would cause them to opt to not renew their subscription. He pondered back to OP42 with Lisa and how they had chosen to, in effect, do the same. He wasn’t so happy about it himself, but she wasn’t wanting to relocate and he needed to move on to rebuild his life. To this day he has wondered if that was the right thing to do. The heart and the mind were still in a battle. “Is this bond something that can happen with non-Heleen,” he asked.
- Dagen , CE

The blue swirls at her temples pulsed a bit in their color depth. Was this a Heleen blush? “Thank you Dagen.” she sang.
“Yes apparently it is. My half sister, she’s the CNS on the USS Athena, she’s bonded now to a Caitian. A big black hairy Caitian, can you imagine that? I haven’t met him yet, but apparently his fur is very comfy and fluffy.” she sang earnestly.

• Shalahn, nurse

He caught himself smiling at her coloration change. The way that her skin and frills swirled and changed color was like staring into an interactive holo-painting. For that it was simply intriguing to see what new pattern might appear. With Shalahn it was extremely personal, and, to some degree, at least to Dagen, erotic in its own. She was like a violet sky with wispy clouds that would form and change and captivate the eyes and imagination.

Speaking of imagination, Dagen let out a small cough and blushed on his own. It likely didn’t look nearly as interesting as hers. “I think I can,” he said quietly; he was not a Caitian but he still was rather ‘bushy’ as his sister Deela had described him many years back. He was coming into his teens and felt that he looked shaggy compared to other boys his age; Deela as a child just called him ‘bushy’. He was having trouble just standing at the moment. “Would you care to dance, Shalahn?” he asked. “Something sedate so I don’t trip over my feet?” He set his glass down and gestured for her to join him.

That would give him a moment or three to think. What on Trill was he doing inquiring about ‘mixed’ mating that sent a thrill through him? Did he want to do this again? Did he want to step into something that would have this ‘annual renewal’ and essentially put his life into chaos each year? He knew he would have this ‘triad’ of conversation at some time between his heart, his head and the slug who always had his two credits to toss into things. The little guy was like a spectator sitting on the edge of his seat just waiting for the next dramatic thing to happen. Or, as Dagen had rendered the metaphor, the slug wearing a toque while sitting atop a ‘snow board’ just waiting for Dagen to give him a push.
- Dagen, Eng
OOC: haha, great mind-pic

Shalahn nodded in her wobbly way, imitating the human gesture. Then she laid her hand in his. As their skin made contact, he suddenly became strangely more aware of her. Similar to the holodeck, but there was no telepathic connection. It was more like the empathic talent of a half-betazoid. He felt her excitement and her acute interest in him, and yes, that butterfly feeling was there as well.

• Shalahn, nurse

‘She’s never going to get that right,’ Dagen thought, seeing her head wobble-nod, ‘and,’ he added, ‘in some odd way I hope she never does.’ It wasn’t that he didn’t care that she got ‘right’ but that, in her own way, that was how it was done. And he got it.

Dagen found himself surprised at the kind of connection, but wasn’t averse to it at all. The tingle was there in the contact but it was more emotional than physical, like knowing the look in anothers’ eyes and the feeling that it matched one’s own. “If there was a specific dance style to this music I’m afraid that my attempt will look nothing like it,” he said with a half grin. Lisa had tried to show him some dance steps. As much as he was, or had been, a fair mixed martial artist which required some coordination, dancing eluded him for coordination. “Her excitement was invasive and he felt himself responding to that stimulus, if that was what it was. He himself had his own nervousness, but that was more of his inner pride of looking foolish or stepping on toes. But that said, this was something he wanted to do so when they reached their destination he took a breath and relaxed.

Turning to face Shalahn, he took both her hands and caught her eyes. Thankfully the music, this time, was not upbeat but sedate. He led her in a swaying motion, shuffling back and forth to the music, their arms swaying together in the direction of their shuffle. As he relaxed, Dagen said, “When you like, we’ll do the same but you put your hands on my shoulders.” That thought sent a jolt of excitement through him; he was old enough to not say that much - especially with having three other ‘hosts’’ memories going with him - was new, but for Dagen there were some things that was just .. personal. “Do you have dancing on your world?” he asked. No matter what anyone said, her eyes were hypnotic. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Or both.
- Dagen, Eng

She fell into the swaying motion with him easily. “Yes we do, it is a bit more … acrobatic? I’m not sure what the right word is but I could show you.” she suggested. Then she moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, laying one hand on his shoulder blade and the other on the back of his neck. This was exactly how Ensigns Lewis and Talyor were dancing next to them. Of course they were a couple, but Shalahn didn’t know that, she just imitated their posture.

With their faces so close to each other, Dagen would see that the more he focused on the fine blue swirling ‘frillings’ on her pale skin, the finer those lines would appear, very unlike an artificial tattoo on human skin, where the lines inevitably bled out after a few years.

• Shalahn