lt_linguist | eleventh translation // action

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eleventh translation // action

[It's a nice day. The air is warm, the sun is out, and one Lieutenant Uhura is out with it, in full force. She's eschewed her winter uniform for one better suited to warm weather - that's right, she's back in her Starfleet-issue miniskirt, hips swaying, ponytail swinging, black boots crunching on the ground as she walks purposefully from the house.

Normally, she'd be heading towards the library, but it's far too nice a day for that. She does have a book under her arm, but she's heading for the bridge, clearly ready to get some fresh air.

In spite of the recent rash of disappearances, and violence, she's determined to enjoy the weather while it lasts. She may even be humming to herself.]

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[Guy, meanwhile, is taking in the good weather himself in a rather strange way. Namely, he's laying on the bank of the river near the bridge, leaning back on his hands with his pant legs rolled up and his feet in the river like some sort of backwater hick.

And it feels great.

...and what is this? A fine lady o'er yonder? Now he gets a great view to go with his river-basking! Ahhh the fates are occasionally kind after all.]

[It takes her a while to notice she has an audience. When she does, however, she gives him her most sarcastic smile, and possibly a rude gesture (though she'd never admit to it).]

[Don't be like that baby!

Guy sits up and waves cheerily.] Good afternoon! Fine weather we're having, aren't we?

[She's no one's "baby". :|]

Beautiful. It's only tarnished by perverts.

Now that is absolutely dreadful. [Guy removes his feet from the water and gathers his boots. He's headed your way, Uhura. :|]

[Oh, wonderful. Time to pretend to be engrossed in her book.]

[Guy has a seat not too close, but not so far that he can't have a conversation in at a reasonable volume.] May I ask what it is you're reading, Miss?

[She raises her eyebrows, but smiles a little.]

It's a book of poetry. And it's Lieutenant. Lieutenant Uhura.

Ah, my deepest apologies Lieutenant! I meant no disrespect.

No offense taken. And you are...?

Forgive my lack of manners! [Guy climbs to his feet and bows, sweeping an arm to his waist.] Guy Cecil, at your service. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[Where are all these guys coming from? And here she thought chivalry was dead.]

I don't suppose you had a white horse back home, too?

Unfortunately not, but I can look around for one if you think it'd suit me. [Guy has a seat again with a somewhat more flippant grin.]

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eleventh translation // action

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