<<Wishing you all Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah and just a jolly good time. A toast to all you lovely bunch of crazies, may you keep simming as you have, feed my inbox and make my days. Have a drink. I know I will >>
[USS Charon, Eris Deck]
"Topolina! Ecco! Have a found a tree!"
"Eh? Santa Maria, Marcello. Is not a tree, is a forest!"
"Will fit, topolina. You no worry."
Lucia looked rather doubtful, but still moved out of the way of the gigantic Andorian conifer that was being hauled through the doors of Eris deck by her beloved husband and some by now slightly disheveled looking volunteers.
It wouldn´t be Natale without a tree, but maybe sending Marcello to the Arboretum and ask for a loan had not been the smartest thing to do. He always let his enthusiasm run away with him. And since neither Marcello nor his enthusiasm ever even considered the idea of stopping at some point …
Hands firmly planted on her hips, Lucia watched the gigantic tree being pulled, shoved and hoisted towards where the biggest open part in the ceiling beckoned, and as expected, the men were now at a loss. Branches and needles already littered the floor, several table linens had either been swept to the floor or decorated the conifer, and still the thing was very much NOT standing upright.
"Ragazzi. You finito with destruzione?"
"Si, amore." Marcello wiped some sweat from his face and gave one of the angels manning the nativity scene an apologetic look. Wow, that was one bent halo if he´d ever seen one. The little Ktarian was unimpressed and glared at the Italian with un-angelic annoyance, but Lucia had had enough. Clapping her hands, the Virgin Mary in her blue dress, aka Lucia the Exaspreated, shooed away a blue skinned Santa Claus and resurrected the headless cardboard donkey before shouting for some ropes.
"Do I even want to know what she wants those for?" a half-Betazoid with fragrant branches stuck in his dark hair blinked rapidly at the shouting Madonna but the Italian only patted him reassuringly on the shoulder "Must no worry Signore Grax. Hanging crew on Natale is bad luck, eh?"
"Very comforting."
Lucia´s plan became evident when some more assorted angels lowered hastily replicated ropes from the lounge deck and more volunteers were intimidated into tying those around the tree as per Santa Maria´s instructions. And indeed, only twenty minutes later the most wonderful turqouise-green christmas tree Marcello had ever seen stood in the middle of Eris deck in all it´s glory, though the top was still a bit bent. Maybe they should have used the transporter after all instead of dragging the poor tree through Jeffery´s tubes.
Still, it looked quite impressive after they´d untied the net and set the branches loose that had not already poked through and inflicted minor harm on both tree-handlers and innocent bystanders.
"Is bellisimo. Si?"
"If by that you mean it´ll be a pain to get all the ornaments on it, and I mean that literally, then yes. Or si, whatever." Shenn came limping through the door, followed by a Caitian who looked rather odd to Marcello until he realized it was because a patch of her head was … well, bald. Didn´t seem to dampen her mood, though.
"Signore Azzuro! You no more sickbay?"
"If you don´t tell anyone, we won´t eitherrrr." M´Riarr purred and eyed the small buffet lining the wall, designed to sustain the early guests and volunteers, but the large amount of empty spaces on the cheerful red and green tablecloth hinted at the marvels yet to come. The Caitian was really hoping for another large bird, maybe ebven a few.
"So, what´s that, then?"
"Looks like Nils insisted on a Yule log. The edible one."
"I imagine Miss Rehu would have thrown a fit if we´d burnt down Eris deck with a real one."
"Those big candleholers should do that job quite nicely. And why is there a giraffe and an elephant over the bar?"
"Do I look like a human? How am I s´posed to know."
The Betazoid tilted his head at Shenn and shrugged "Guess they wanted to make sure everyone got their favorite Holiday represented. Though it´d be a sight for sore eyes if people were doing ´Dreidel Dreidel´around Santa while Miss Lucia tries to keep the lil angels from snatching the candy canes."
"Then all we need is Nils dressed up as Odin and the party can start."
"A what?"
"Just stay away from the spiced wine and you´ll be right as rain, Ria."
"You got it."
[A few hours, lots of synthehol and some not so synthetic drinks later, Crew Lounge, Eris Deck]
"Why is you no happy, Signore Grax?"
"Do I look unhappy, Marcello?"
"Is everyone singing, and dancing and molto baci. But you just look."
Well, if Marcello was totally honest, there were a few people just enjoying the show rather than jump right into the fun, and after all they´d been through maybe it shouldn´t be a big surprise. To him, it only made sense to celebrate being alive, but some people were strange like that.
After all, it was a GOOD party.
From the Bolian Chell who delighted in everyone from kids to full grown Caitians climbing on his lap so he could hand out sweets and listen gravely to their wishes, to Lucia who ruled over her menagerie of cardboard animals – the traditional oxen and a stray reindeer, as well as a stuffed razorcat and a plush targ – and assorted angels, one of whom might have been better suited as an elf maybe, what with the ears and all, it was festive beyond belief.
Lots of the crew had taken the opportunity to don their prettiest clothes, and if the Terran Holidays didn´t have any meaning to many species, the food and drink were the best they´d seen in quite a while so it all evened out. Marcello especially liked the tradition of kissing under the green leaf things, and had in fact been running about the lounge with a handful of them, encouraging the crew to engage in this beautiful tradition until a snickering M´Riarr had told him to take a break and let people get a chance to eat.
Leaning against the gold rails of the balcony, Marcello balanaced some yule candy and two mugs of hot wine, while the mistletoe was stuck in his hair for later use. Merl could not help but chuckle at the Italian and his obvious determination to make the best of everything this party had to offer.
"Is there anything that dampens your spirits, Mr Marcello?"
"Dampen? Ah, si. Molto rain will do that, e pronto."
A blank look followed that statement, and then the Betazoid laughed again, accepting the second mug of wine with a ´thank you´gesture.
"Ridere better than sad, Signore. La vita e bella."
"Wise words, Marcello, wise…"
The Italian cocked his head when the good Betazoid seemed to choke on his drink and wondered what could have prompted the poor man to nearly fall over the railing, when he saw who had just entered the mess hall. Of course. It was always a woman, wasn´t it. First the moping, now the choking, it made perfect sense.
And she was quite a sight, even a spoiled man like Marcello had to admit that. A dress of deep burgundy red, not quite the Signora´s usual style either, it looked more Betazoid, what with the billowing skirt and the collar that actually let you see a litle bit of copper-golden skin and hinted ever so subtly at the treasures hidden under the bodice.
To the Italian´s mild disappointment, one had to guess quite a bit because the woman also wore a floor-length coat rimmed with some silver-white fur, but it was festive either way. She might have made a good sidekick for Mr Chell in his Santa Claus outfit. If Santa employed full grown elves.
"Is Signora Vulcan you were waiting for? I not thought they like parties."
"Hm? Oh. Robert tried logic on her, you know, the whole acting XO thing. Needs to stay informed on crew morale and stuff. Four Deities, they must have combed three Fogcats to get all that fur."
"Is logical, certamente. Comb?"
"You can´t go around killing Fogcats on Betazed, Mr Marcello. But when they shed their winter fur, some are grateful enough for a little help and won´t eat you. By the Holy Rings, I never thought Robert would actually get through to her."
"Is Signore Tisdale very persuasive when wants to."
"Obnoxious you mean."
"Ah, si. Ma is good if works. You go say Buon Natale, eh? I find food for Lucia. Is no good if Santa Maria makes face like that. And you need this."
Merl blinked at the mistletoe that Marcello had thrust into his hand and then shook his head "She´ll go Vulcan on me if I try that. Or worse, give me a Look."
"Is no victory if not a little risk, Signore, eh?" Marcello patted the Betazoid companionably on the back and ambled off to procure some food and drink for his beloved, lest she should start throwing a fit and then cardboard animals.
Merl leaned against the railing and looked down at the swirl of colors. Up here, most people were either engaged in having a quiet drink or things of a more romantic nature, but down in the mess hall the party was just gaining momentum. So far, no one had taken a shot at the Dreidel song but Becca was happily introducing some of the crew to ´Hava Nagila´. Not quite traditional, but they were having a splendid amount of fun, judging from the way that Tellarite was bouncing around.
M´Riarr had secured an entire turkey for herself and grinned as only a half-bald Caitian with lots of meat in her paw can, while Robert had located Miss Betty and carried her through the lounge, crowned with laurels. Cheers and whistles followed the Chief Cook who took it with good humor, and an inquisitive pointy eared child was saved from falling into the pot with spiced wine at literally the last second.
A slightly lopsided Andorian was keeping the bartender busy, and a Swedish human entertained the younger (and even some older, how nice) party guetsts with stories of gods and monsters. Santa Claus found himself with a lovely Trill lady on his lap and Merl learned that even Bolians can blush if given the chance. Who would have thought?
But his sights were set on the vision in burgundy, floating across the deck, giving friendly nods, and a shower of artificial snow just so happened to dust her black curls when a few of the kids stormed past with spray cans.
Merl looked at the mistletoe in his hand, and back at the Vulcan who quirked a mildly indulgent brow at the little rascals.
"Fortune favors the bold, they say."
Taking a deep breath, Merl walked down the stairs.
[End Log]
Just some NPCs and the odd guest star - hey, even redshirts deserve a break.
Now don´t go shootin´ Santa and have some candy.
