Low Bar

Posted on Wed Jan 19th, 2022 @ 5:58pm by Evahnae Kohl

Mission: Mission 14: Holoworld
Location: Ship's Lounge
1491 words - 3 OF Standard Post Measure

“Oh, I have all my fingers
The knife goes chop chop chop
If I miss the spaces in-between my fingers will come off”

Words sung quietly aloud by a solitary soul in the oft bustling but at the moment somewhat inactive bar area of Ms. Rose, the lyrics accented by accompanying clacks upon the bartop that was barely audible above the few other murmuring voices in the now relaxed place of gathering. Clack clack clack went the metal straw upon the small areas of bartop between K’s fingers as she sang the tune to herself. A knife would have been more thematically appropriate, but the scornful looks she got in the past by those who worked the thankless job of tending to barflies had taught her it was best to use less damaging tools of “entertainment” lest ye be swatted like the unwelcomed bug most bargoers were.

“And if I hit my fingers
The blood will soon come out
But all the same I play this game ‘cause that’s what it’s all about”

It was like therapy, getting lost in the tune and the methodical tapping of that pattern between her digits. Better than a visit to the shrink in her opinion. Nothing mattered except hitting the mark, a perfect mix of challenge and danger that kept most any mind occupied, even if at least for the short duration of the tune. Still, it was an escape and a welcome one at that.

“Oh, chop chop chop chop chop chop
I’m picking up the speed
And if I hit my fingers then my hand will start to bleed”

Which she did, but it didn’t. Cursed blunt instruments taking all the hair-raising tension out of the whole ordeal. Now all that was left was her and her silence… well, and the straw standing upright on the back of her palm-down hand on the bar like some heretofore unknown drink from some far off land.

"It's more fun if you use a knife."

In the weeks since her arrival, Eva's bar-side manner had presented mostly as a frenetic distraction, where pouring drinks had become secondary to satiating her own curiosity about the crew's overall disposition whilst also providing an outlet for the rather profound sense of elation that imminent freedom had presented. It was also fair to say that the discovery of the Holoworld had stolen any fascination for the bar and lounge momentarily, since even her ambitious plans couldn't compete with a playground of holodecks and free booze. She hadn't so much managed the space as deconstructed it several times and still found herself dissatisfied.

But old habits died hard.

Knowing when to approach a patron, or whether you should at all, was typically a baptism of fire for younger service personnel and, admittedly, was often a source of great amusement for the veterans who set up their junior counterparts to learn the hard way more often than was fair. If Eva had been sent to judgement by this particular crew, it wouldn't have been unreasonable for the verdict to be a very limited sense of propriety with virtually no capacity to read a person's boundaries from body language alone, but she hadn't represented herself accurately because that had been the whole point of a fresh start, right? An opportunity to do things differently.

Except, she was exhausted.

You could only spend so much before you ended up in deficit. Fractured sleep patterns didn't help, and so it was from the comfort of old habits that she'd taken this long to engage with the lonesome figure and their projected air of discontent. The bar manager may have been more subdued than usual, but her wry smile was worn easily enough.

"Though I've honestly never been game to try, not with my luck."

Well now K just felt like an amateur, being so casually corrected that she had been using the wrong implement to play her little game upon the bar top, though a straw was far more fitting given the surroundings. Still, without fluids to put it in, it really was nothing more than something the average bargoer would discard at the end of a fun time. In this case though, it was going to be discarded at the beginning of a fun time.

The danger-prone lass slid the straw to the side like the end of a starter beverage and tapped the bar with her left index finger as if to cockily order a stronger serving from the bartender, though in this case the serving was less proof and more proof-in-the-pudding. She never did like to turn down a good game, especially not when she felt like she was being one-upped.

“One knife, please,” K ordered with a mischievous smirk. “And whaddaya think luck’s got to do with it anyway” she asked in a sort of mock coy voice, the back of her hand giving away more to that question than if it were asked by most any other patron.

"Luck always finds a way to interfere, I'm convinced of it." There was only a moment's hesitation, more an attempt to consider the closest supply of cutlery than a pause for caution's sake. Taking several strides towards one of the service carts, Eva rummaged for a bit and returned with a selection of three; a blunt butter knife, what appeared to be a paring knife and a metal cocktail skewer. All three were set down on the table, in swift succession, before the brunette pulled up a chair and accepted the unspoken invitation to join, such was her interpretation, at least. "And good reflexes, I guess, but I'm not sure I have those either."

“Sounds like you might well send yourself to the infirmary,” K remarked in a somewhat dismissive tone, more pointing out a matter of fact than something of any particular concern to her. In fact she had thought to herself that that would have only made things even more interesting, though having to explain to the doctor how one voluntarily skewered themselves while playing a game of chance could well have gotten them a citation of some sort.

“Y’know, you don’t have to do this. I’d hate to see those pretty hands get skewered like an olive-” she had started saying as a thought most cheeky began to cross her thoughts, her mind barely letting her finish her sentence before moving on to her cunning little plan. “Or we could make things a little more interesting, hmm,” she began, eyebrow raising as if to jump forth ahead in the suggestion. “Take a little of the danger off for you, but make it even more tense?"

The proverbial red flag to the bull tactic was alarmingly effective on Eva, in almost all instances except when it was made too blatantly obvious that she was being strung along by her own innate sense of curiosity. The conversation had started as a means of engaging the solitary patron and even up until this moment, there had been no mental commitment to her own participation. Now she was intrigued, however, and wandered a step further down the rabbit hole. "Interesting but less dangerous sounds like a suggestion from my therapist. What are we going with then?"

K stood up and moved over towards the naive yet adventurous girl, approaching from behind and leaning over her shoulder much like a close acquaintance would a long lost friend happened upon in some far flung space bar, slipping her rough, worn hand over the other’s considerably prettier one in an instant juxtaposition. “My hand on yours, like two long lost lovers finally crossing paths once more,” she began with a smirk as she started making up some fun little story on the fly.

She reached around Eva’s other side with her right hand and placed it over the cocktail skewer, sliding it down and towards Eva’s hand in a not so subtle offering. “But much as happens when lovers are lost for far too long, this one has gone along and broken your heart. What else is there to do but stab, stab, STAB? Pick it up and tap away. Will you inflict the pain that you have felt, or will keep your feelings hidden and your aim true?”

Evahnae was not a large woman. Being dwarfed by others, even an actual dwarf at one point, was not unusual. The other woman's presence, however, extended well beyond a mere physical advantage and whilst it wasn't exactly threatening, it was very...there. Eva suppressed the urge to shiver, the prickle of self-assurance against the back of her mind also an intruder.

She picked up the skewer. The first stabs were so hesitant, they barely hit the table.

"Is there a technique to this I should know about?"