PLOT - JDL | Com Ivanova, Capt DiAgessi, Cmdr Satie | "Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici"

Posted on Fri Jan 19th, 2018 @ 11:30pm by Commodore Rochelle Ivanova

Aine had arrived an hour early with her yeoman in tow to make sure everything was ready for everyone's arrival at 1700. Tonight was intended to be a big deal… The holidays, the awards, the announcement that Cold Station Theta was back online and ready for action… and it was to be the first official appearance of the Vindicator’s command team since their long disappearance into the void and the legal dramas that had taken place in the aftermath. By the skin of their teeth, the fates had decided to favor the ship and her firebrand of a skipper yet again. The intent was simple: celebrate success on behalf of the fleet and the way the Federation council was beginning to mend and grow in the aftermath of the war. Then there was the intent to reassure the Vindicator, and the universe, that in spite of horrific rumors, Commodore Rochelle Ivanova was indeed still in command… Still alive… Still in one piece… Simply sans a husband. That little rumor, the one that said she was newly single, was of course true. And a sucker punch.

True to nature, Dimlat had scurried off almost as soon as they’d entered the arboretum. Her own intent was easy to see; checking tables, fixing candles, spreading glitter. No matter how hard Aine may have tried, there simply wouldn’t have been a chance to follow the strange little alien woman and she found herself sighing with a soft smile and shake of her head. “I think we’ve done well.” She whispered, feeling Satie’s presence begin to loom nearby. She knew he wouldn’t be far. He’d been invaluable on coordinating things, pointing out little details and securing things that she’d never even dreamed of thinking about. Even seating arrangements, food, it was utterly fascinating, at least to her, how much he knew about the style of event they were hosting. While it had been her idea to without identities until midnight, it was him that suggested that each that entered the arboretum be announced by costume, not by name… Or hint of it. Even still… Aine was almost certain she’d seem some hints of costume prep work and fabric purchases that she hoped would at least help tame the mystery of just who was who. Curiosity was the damnedest thing.
Her own costume was fairly simple; a flowing gown of gauze and a touch of velvet, beaded to perfection and colored scarlet promised that she’d be visible – but the curls piled atop her head and twined with roses that bled into her elaborate mask promised it would be a difficult guess. She was stuck somewhere between a proper Venetian ball and the décor of ancient Spanish aristocracy. It worked. Peering at Satie, but matched her in both color and style, she knew they’d done their best indeed.
“We have. Now we just hope that our guests agree.” He replied with a gentle nod and rested his hands on a nearby table top.
At 1645, Aine and Satie stood waiting for Rochelle's arrival in the entryway. Behind them were tall double wide doors opening into the arboretum’s designated ball room, on either side were two sweeping staircases which hugged the curved garden walls leading to the second level, where there was a door opening into the second level ‘gallery’ above the ballroom. Lanterns and delicate twinkling lights lined the trees and hung within the bushes and table tops flickered with tiny little flames of their own. Even the fountains flashed with soft white and blue light and for once, Aine sighed in complete wonder of what such a place would be like without the coming crowd: Magic.
The sound of Rochelle's peep-toed heels echoed as they met the coral floors for the first time. The sound was one of hurried confidence, the bold strides announcing that the little Commodore was moving with purpose that night. Holographic clouds of ice and snow, the sparkle of glitter trailed behind her as if she were a freezing comet, and while Rochelle hated the idea of attention, she was stuck with it. Even the billowing nature of her gown, the deep sweetheart cut that was supported both by boning in the bodice itself and a corset beneath, begged for eyes to be cast her way. Each and every step set curls of up-swept silver to bounce and shimmer under the hushed candle light, making them glisten and gleam as she stepped further and further away from being a simple mortal officer. Ra’lin had done exceptionally well in her desire to transform the Captain into a figment of mythology fit for a Queen while Rochelle did nothing more than gripe and moan, demanding that she be left in peace. Ra’lin, stubborn as always, refused. The result? Iconic. She was ice personified, not a hint of the fire that she wielded so easily. The bright calling card of her titian hair hidden beneath an undulating tundra of bitter cold locks pinned into place with crystals of ice supporting a bitter, frosted crown. Why the woman had chosen such an elaborate and wild costume would plague Rochelle for the evening. Even her lashes were white, frosted – her eyes the hue of snow and devoid of both iris and pupil as she glanced between those she was meeting. "Sorry I'm late." She chuckled lightly, coming to rest in front of the station’s Command team and Yeoman, "I wasn’t allowed to leave until someone was absolutely certain I was 'perfect'."
"You look amazing, ma'am," Satie murmured from under his mask, nodding at Rochelle. Finally taking in the whole of the costume, he knew that Ra’lin was over the top when she wasn't given any boundaries, but he was still amazed. If the yeoman had put that costume on almost anyone else, the personality of it would have smothered them, but Rochelle carried it with a grace and a poise that would mesmerize anyone who didn't already know her.

"She threatened to have me sit there for another hour, something about glitter and feathers..." Rochelle shrugged and gusting billows of holographic snow rose and fell with the motion of her shoulders in a manner that would have made Disney proud. The projections were surprisingly empathetic, reading her body language in ways that Ra’lin had simply said 'don't worry about', and worry she didn't. For the first time in a long time she felt more than just sophisticated and cold. "Thank you, Commander Satie." She grinned brightly.

"You have enough glitter on you to mark the whole Romulan fleet," Aine quipped. "It actually kind of gives a trailing fire and ice effect in this light...” There was admiration in her voice as she walked a small circle around her cousin “She’s very perceptive. We didn't show him the arboretum and I doubt it was by accident...” The brunette’s head just shook, her mouth held in a bright smile filled with admiration. While some hearts were sad and broken, others were being forced to mend out of the sheer depth of love others had for them. What Ra’lin had accomplished said so very much about how she felt about the Commodore. "Let's just give you the final tour before everyone arrives." She gestured for Rochelle to follow, and headed along the garden path to the open dance floor. Jacob fell behind and just to one side of the Captain.

Standing at attention to one side of the doorway was a man in an ivory leather owl mask, matching ivory tailcoat, and slate grey pants. He nodded politely as Aine stopped next to him. "He'll announce everyone by costume as they arrive. If we'd gone fully authentic, you and I would have been standing here all night greeting each and everyone of the guests," Aine explained with an eye roll. "Commander Satie suggested it would be better for everyone if no one tried to cage the Phoenix for the night, allow you the chance to move freely about.” At this mention Jacob nodded with a slight smirk.

"The main floor's band, we went with a classic group costume," Aine explained, walking ahead quickly without giving Rochelle time to respond. People would be arriving soon, after all. Three of the members of the quartet stood out with masks that looked like pigs -- one bright pink, another black with white spots, and the last tan. The cellist wore a wolf mask, and a suit of dark brown. "We have a Romani band in the side gardens, dressed as fae." Aine continued, and lead the way towards the food and drink which sat to either side of the door into the smaller ballroom. Behind the two tables stood six men dressed in tailcoats of bright colors, and masks with feathers and beaks. Before anything else could say, the owl at the main doors cleared his throat.

"Please bid welcome to a star," he said loud and clear, and next to him stood a tiny little figure draped in a gauzy gown of glittering gold and silver, burning bright as if illuminated (though softly) from within. Stars trailed along her arms and perched within her hair – and behind her, the doorway into the arboretum held more guests.

"Show time," Aine whispered, and stepped towards the center of the main gardens, knowing Rochelle would be right there at her side… At least for a little while. Hopefully not long at all. With some luck, the woman’s mood would shift and she’d find herself swept along by music and mystery alike.

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OOC: GO NUTS!!!! Everyone will be revealed at "midnight" and we'll just go have a blast with awards at that time!
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Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Captain Aine DiAgessi
Commanding Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170

Commander Jacob Satie
Executive Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170