Holodeck - OTA

[treadswater]

Each victor is expected to have a talent, something that they now have the freedom to do - and something to talk to the journalists. Annie had picked glass-making. Nothing to do with anything in her previous life, and something it'd take time to learn. Time being something she had all too much of.

She'd wound up actually being good at it. She'd wound up loving it. She'd make things, sell them to the Capitol and to the merchants in District Four. There are better glassmakers in District One, but madness does lend itself to artistic allure, it seems.

She misses it. The running her own tiny business, yes, but mostly the making things. The execution of a craft she's earned burns from. The ability to create.

Finally, she's missed it enough to go to the holodeck and try and create a studio. Not hers, that'd confuse her too much and anyway, this is a chance to have the kind of kilns she never could. But a studio. Fully equipped, nicely lit, manuals for the kilns and furnaces. Space. Space to move. No teacher.

She's not quite up to actually trying to make a cup again, but if anyone walks in, they'll find her either arguing with the computer over technology-levels, working out how this particular equipment works, or inspecting the supplies.

Or, possibly, twirling the poles to get used to the movement again.

Ten Forward Lounge - OTA

[writes_with_digital_ink]

It's been a long shift.

Very long.

And frustrating.

As soon as she clocks off, Gaila stalks to her quarters, strips out of her uniform and pulls on a dress. A Terran sundress, not Orion, because frankly, she's over pants and she'd feel undressed if she pulled on one of her tunics without pants.

She'd meant to sulk in her room and chill, but her room is small, itchy, and so she finds herself at the lounge. The lounge has people, but it's after the main time people are here. She can handle it.

And so, Ensign Gaila betIlley commandeers a table near a window, and flops over it. She'll get to her drink in moment. For now?

Flop.

Sleepless nights

[reincarnshaman]

There are things that Trever never thought would be a problem in his life. Not ever being in Eire - or to be more exact - to be connected to Eire was one of them. But that he'd been coping with. The second thing he'd never thought would be a problem in his life was the lack of a moon. His body seemed to be insisting on something should be happening, that he should be doing or going somewhere but he didn't know where or why for the life of him.

It's lead to severe bouts of insomnia around when, on his world, it'd be the full moon as his body ticked around to some invisible thing he couldn't turn off.

As such thing a thing has ticked around he can found wandering around the corridors, barefoot and shirtless, cat following him behind, trying to work off the nervous energy, that whatever it was that kept on pulling at him. Whenever he passed by a window he'd stop and stare out of it, looking for something and then sighing and moving on not finding it.

read me a story...

[element_wizard]

In Ten Forward there is an Alec with a book in front of him and a pad of paper and pencil next to him. It looks like he's reading as he is studying the book intently, occasionally making notes on the paper. Every so often he'll toss the pencil down and rest his head on the book. Or just shove both of them away.

Once in a while he'd get up and walk around the room before plopping back down in the chair and starting over again.

To anyone who tries to see what he's reading or checking his notes will be confronted with an unknown language. It looks rather flowy and script like and though Alec's handwriting is made out of sharper angles.

The frustration is enough that he'd be willing to be highly distracted.