Underwater Spectacles

Posted on Tue Dec 28th, 2021 @ 8:37pm by Maz & Vice Admiral Nathan Cowell, MD & Rear Admiral Sal Andolini & Rear Admiral Thomas Romanowski & Rear Admiral Duncan Hurroo & Rear Admiral Richard Brannigan & Captain Jocelyn Blake & Commander Marlena Glenn

Mission: Episode 2: 18th and Constitution
Location: Off The Deep End - Horseshoe Bay
Timeline: Mission Day 22 at 0000
Tags: bar, underwater, off the deep end

As one entered the Dive, several things immediately drew attention: the floors with their deep sapphire hue, the midnight sparkling curtains that separated the bar from the swimming pool and hot tub area. The Bar itself stood out with its rich chestnut brown surface polished to the point of being nearly reflective. Unlike most bars in the area, this one was strictly a bar with no option for food save for an assortment of nuts in different styles based on the tastes of the species present.

Through the back door, a hallway stretched for 100 yards or so. Along the length of this hallway were doors. Each door opened onto a room where conversations could be had with no one overhearing if so desired. Each room also held its own style of fish-like creatures swimming in blissful harmony.

This hallway let out into the underground gardens. These contained a variety of plants, some having flowers and others only varying colors of leaves.

Cael found himself ready for a fresh start. He had gone to great lengths to ensure each area was fit for the diversity of species that called this section of San Francisco home. Much to his liking, the place was affordable and so was the cost of various species of fish brought in. The bar to him was a symbolism of peace and harmony in nature that could be had if people set aside their differences and just took in the beauty and diversity of each other. Of course, that was Cael's thoughts. Maz however was thinking of how much wasted time this was and how they could be getting hammered right now in some back street bar that looked nothing like this. The two were at odds with each other as of late. Hard to be two people at once.

"Alright, I guess it's time for our grand opening. Johnny set the mood, R'han please turn on the sign and open the doors. Let's let them in, shall we?" Cael said with a smile. He straightened out his tux, which reminded him of a uniform once more but one for that fashion elite. He did stand out as being the only one present of his staff dressed in such a way.

As the lights dimmed, the glow of the tanks danced along with the ceiling and floors. The only other glow, aside from the low lights, was coming from an old neon gas-fueled light that said OPEN. It hummed softly. Cael made his way back toward the main bar and just watched as people began to file in one at a time.

Richard Brannigan had not been one for 'hanging out' in bars in many years. Hell, he'd never really been that sort of man. Who'd had time for that? But things were crazy lately -- when weren't they really in Starfleet though? -- and this place was new, so he had decided to give it a try. It also helped that while it was billed as a bar, its description told him that it was so much more than that.

It was after hours, and so the Starfleet uniform had been left in his quarters. In its place was a silky, long-sleeved dress shirt in a deep blue that accentuated the blue of his eyes. His black pants were a soft material of alien origins, but they were held in place by a black leather belt. His black boots were polished, and his hair was neatly combed in a backswept style. Those steel blue eyes cast over the room, noting the people already present before settling on the man behind the bar. That must be the owner, he thought to himself as the man was the only one dressed as though he was going to march with the penguins.

Making his way over to the bar, he slid onto one of the stools and waited his turn to be served. While he waited, he pondered the room's design as well as its occupants.

"It's just in here," came a voice lilting in from the open doors of the bar. "New place, you're going to love it. Undersea themed with hot tubs and a full bar. What's not to like?" asked Marlena Glenn as she backed into the bar, pulling on the arm of one Jocelyn Blake. "Come onnnn," she grinned, tugging the Press Secretary into the bar proper and then looking around. "Yeah," she nodded perfunctorily, "this will do just fine, I think. Come on, let's grab a table, hmm?" Without waiting for Jocelyn to respond, Marlena half-danced her way over to slink down into a seat as she stared up at the tank beside her. "It's kind of beautiful," she said to Jocelyn before looking around again, this time for someone to take their drink order.

Jocelyn Blake's face could best be described as curiously skeptical. It wasn't that she was opposed to sitting at bars. She was absolutely happy to go and imbibe. It was that this particular bar seemed likely to attract a larger than usual Starfleet Command contingent and so close to the bombing of the Romulan Embassy she wasn't sure who to expect nor was she confident in how well she could relax. Joce had slid into the seat opposite her friend, a chuckle at Marlena's enthusiasm escaping her as she did. "It is beautiful," she agreed, watching fish seemingly dance in their simulated oceanic space. Her uniform felt incongruous in this space, as if she should have come in a cocktail dress rather than the cranberry and black she wore. "Where did you say you heard about this event again," she asked?

"The office, where else?!" Marlena stuck out her tongue, playfully side-stepping a direct answer to the question. She, too, was clad in her uniform -- the pair having come from said office -- but the woman didn't seem to let that stop her from enjoying herself. She leaned back in her seat, looking almost as if she were about to kick her feet up on the tabletop. Instead, Marlena smiled and lamented, "We should have brought bathing suits. Could totally go for a soak right now. Well, maybe after a couple of drinks, anyway..." she trailed off.

Richard was not the type to interrupt a conversation he had not been invited to participate in. And when that conversation was between two ladies, he definitely didn't interrupt. Therefore, he waited for a natural lull in their conversation to approach. "Good evening, ladies," he greeted with a smile.

"Admiral," Marlena looked up, offering a welcoming smile. "Almost didn't recognize you out of uniform," the woman teased, having become familiar with the man over the last several days. "You remember Captain Blake?" she asked, gesturing to the drinking companion at her table. Looking at Blake, Marlena wore an expression that tried to say Should we ask him to sit down?

Jocelyn offered Brannigan a warm open smile. "Admiral," she said in greeting. "What do you make of the place?" She gestured around them eyes traveling the brilliant blue of the space around them. To Marlena she shot a quick expressive glance that seemed to reply Up to you. This was your idea.

So it was up to her, eh? Marlena stuck her tongue out again, then looked back to the Admiral in question. "Would you like to have a seat, sir? You're more than welcome to join us," she offered sweetly, gesturing to an open seat next to her.

Richard chuckled softly at the silent byplay between the two women. "Thank you, Captain, Commander." He used the ranks in a sort of tease back at them for addressing him by rank when off duty, but he pulled out the offered chair and sat. "And we're off duty, so you can both call me Richard," he added before letting his eyes travel over the place again then return to the ladies he now shared a table with. "I think it's quite beautiful actually. The way the owner has designed it brings outdoor life indoors and gives it a nice ambiance," he said in answer to Blake's question. "So what brings you two ladies here tonight?"

"Richard it is," Marlena smiled, nodding with finality. "What brings us out?" she asked incredulously, eyeing the bar. "Why, I think the answer is pretty obvious. Fish and cocktails," she smirked at the Admiral, her tone playful and teasing as her eyes flit from him to a fish tank and back. Marlena would let Jocelyn answer for herself, though: perhaps her aims were different.

"I'm here because Marlena said I had to be," she grinned, eyes twinkling. "She's pretty convincing..."

Richard chuckled. Oh, he liked these two; they were witty and knew when to turn off the Officer and just be the Person. "Well, I doubt that the owner would let you eat those fish," he teased back, eyes flicking to Jocelyn as she spoke. He gave her the once-over as if looking for something, then he shrugged. His manner spoke of humor as he smirked, commenting, "Well, I don't see any marks, so she must not have had to twist your arm too hard."

"Don't be fooled," Marlena leaned in, lowering her voice, "I know how to hide the bruises. Blink twice if you're safe, Jocelyn," she smirked heavily, wiggling her eyebrows in jest at her companion.

For all that the Press Secretary was maintaining a largely successful facade of coolness, Marlena's eyebrows did her in and she dissolved into a fit of giggles. "It doesn't work if you're the one telling me to blink twice," she said inbetween the giggles. "We clearly need to get drinks going here."

The entrance to the bar swung open with a loud, concussive thunk as a rather old-looking man, replete with uniform on, stormed into the place without much in the way of ceremony or shame for his rather chaotic display. His eyes swept around until he found the object of his apparent mission.

"Hey Red, what the hell?! You bar hoping and you didn't call me?!" the elderly man ranted, bringing all eyes to him as he screamed some obscure nickname at the people sitting near the bar.

Jocelyn looked up, an amused expression on her face as Nathan Cowell made his presence known in what she had, in a matter of a few days, come to recognize as a signature move. Her eyes twinkled slightly and she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back slightly in her chair.

"I left you a message," she said levelly. "Besides that, this opening was Marlena's idea and I didn't have a ton of advance notice." Here she gestured to the redhead next to her who was eyeing the doctor with apt curiosity.

"Marlena, you remember Admiral Cowell," Jocelyn said with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "We seem to have found ourselves at the same bars the last few days."

She turned back to Nathan then. "Doc, this is Marlena Glenn--your star patient's aide-de-camp and Admiral Brannigan, the head of Research and Development."

"Oh right, the Sweet Tea girl... When did you get a sister, Red? Never mind that, can she drink? This ain't the kiddy table... if she can't hold her liquor she's gonna have to toddle off back home so the adults can enjoy the finer things in life," the old man flopped down in the empty chair next to Jocelyn as if it were his preordained spot. Once he was settled in his chair, he looked over at the third person in the group and grunted, "Never heard of him. He's either new, or he came up while I was out in the shit fighting off the Borg and whatever the hell else the Universe decided to throw at me out in the deep dark corners of the galaxy... or he's just new..."

Jocelyn chuckled, shaking her head at the doctor's acerbic tone and looking to Marlena with a do you want to tell him or should I? expression. She knew the other woman could easily hold her own and wouldn't dream of speaking on her behalf unless she indicated she should.

"Can I drink, he asks," Marlena bit the inside of her lip and then folded her arms across her chest. "I'm half Irish. Drinking is literally in my blood," the woman narrowed her eyes at Cowell. "So fret not, Admiral. You're drinking with all adults here," she smirked.

Jocelyn continued, "Admiral Brannigan is newly in the R&D role," she explained. "Fresh from teaching at the Academy if I am not mistaken. Do I have that correct Admiral?" Here the Press Secretary turned to address the tall man.

Richard appeared unruffled by the overbearing manner of the new arrival as he nodded in response to Jocelyn's question. "That's correct. I'm not surprised that the good doctor doesn't know me. My family has been moved around a good bit," he answered easily. "You do seem very familiar with my department," he said to Jocelyn by way of asking how that was.

"I was the public relations contact for R&D for a number of years," she said with a grin. "Is Jones still grousing about people not signing out conference rooms the way he likes?"

Richard laughed. "In the several days I've been here, I have gotten six complaints from him on that very subject." He smirked as he added, "I told him that he should just be grateful that they're signing them out instead of using them and telling him after the fact." A chuckle followed. "I don't think he appreciated the humor, though. He grumbled, and I think I heard him call me something unflattering, then left my office."

"That sounds about right," Jocelyn said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, he grows on you."

Finally turning back to the elderly doctor she raised her eyebrows. "No food at this establishment, Doc. Shall we see what the bartender has on offer?" She turned to encompass Marlena and Richard in the last question, thinking it may be a scenario where ordering takes place at the bar.

"Can't have everything, I suppose," the old man shrugged, "They at least got menus for what's on tap? Don't tell me we gotta play guessing games with what's back there..."

"It's a bar. Pretty standard stuff, I imagine," Marlena chuckled. "I call 'not it' for going up to place the order, though. Been bringing Admirals sweet tea, coffee, silly green bottles of designer water, and synthehol all day. Maybe an Admiral can bring me a drink for once," the woman smirked, referring to the many beverages she tended to serve as the CinC's aide-de-camp. "What do you say, Doctor?"

"Depends on what you fancy. Only got two hands, and neither one of them's capable of carrying anything that isn't drinkable to the high standards I expect from a beverage. Can you handle whiskey without a chaser or mixer?" Cowell asked, leaning forward a bit in his chair.

"Only if it's strong," Marlena smirked back, raising an arm to drape it over the backrest of her chair. "I like my whiskey like I enjoy my men: powerful and golden all over," she chuckled. Outside of the office, the woman was snarky and confident to the extreme. While both traits weren't entirely removed from her office behavior, she tended to be much more subdued at work. But Cowell was definitely making her feel that she did not have to be.

"Whiskey it is," Nathan said, abandoning his seat for the bar to make demands of beverages from the bar. Before more than a few minutes passed, the old man returned with a bottle in hand and three glasses pinched in his fingers. He set them down, one in front of Blake and Glenn, before giving each glass a generous pour of the sparkling amber liquid.

"This ought to put hair in places it ain't already at," the elderly physician said as he raised his glass and tipped it back.

When Hurroo materialized at the table with a drink already in hand, he sipped it, "this wasn't a ploy to see me perform was it, Captain Blake?" he asked, standing behind an empty seat. "I hope you forgive the early drink but who can pass the bar without making a stop?" he shrugged. He realized it probably didn't come off very professional but it wasn't as if he'd even had a drink of this nature in months and quite frankly he didn't think this was a professional setting as it was.

"I'm Duncan Hurroo," he said, in introduction to those he'd not yet met personally. Sure he knew who most of them were just out of the necessity of his job but that didn't mean it meant personally. "And if it's fine with you all, I think we should dispense with the sirs, the ma'am's, and the ranks if we've not already."

Richard looked at the new arrival, eyebrows going up. Did everyone around here just drop out of the blue on everyone else? It was certainly starting to look that way. He made a note to himself to be watchful for that in the future. "I'm Richard Brannigan," he introduced in response. "And I agree. We are all off duty, so there is no need for the formality." He had not introduced the others at the table as a courtesy, to allow them to choose the manner in which they identified themselves.

"Good to see you again," Marlena smiled up at Hurroo. The man had been a regular fixture at SFC as of late, often needing to see the CinC to update him on matters regarding the Embassy bombing. She left that particular conversation topic alone and simply patted the open chair. "You gonna stand there all day or have a seat?"

"Let him stand if he can't park his ass on an open seat. Some people like standing while they get drunk, all the booze goes to their legs first, keeps them sober a bit longer before it hits their brains. I knew a fella once that refused to sit down to drink, said if he did he'd keel over. And I'll be damned if he didn't get pulled down in a seat once and force fed some alcohol. Right over he went, quick as shit, almost died on impact with the ground. Come to find out he had some kind of nerve disorder that messed him up if he wasn't perfectly straight up when he had one in him. Strangest damn thing I've ever seen before in my life... at least up to that point. Seen worse by now though," Cowell rambled from his place at the table.

"Old habit from hanging out in bars," Hurroo said, knowing that only one or two of those present would know he was referring to his previous go as a standup comic. "Besides, I haven't decided where the best seat is yet." Hurroo finally circled around to the chair of his choice and took it.

The Press Secretary was one of the few who understood the reference and she grinned broadly as Hurroo's comment sunk in. "That was pretty rough," she said giggling at the joke. "Stand up... comic..." Her laugh deepened from a giggle to a full-throated laugh. "Apparently the type of humor I appreciate, though."

It took Richard a moment to parse together Hurroo's comment with that of the press secretary. When he did, he shook his head with a chuckle. "Oh, God... pun damage! Next time, warn a man so he can put up his shields," he teased.

"I can't help myself," Hurroo said, with a shrug. "I'll do my best."

Thomas entered the establishment and whistled as he took in the scene. His wife, Charlotte, entered beside him with her arm looped through his. She also marveled at the establishment. Since the Romanowski nest was now empty, the couple had taken up a new habit of patronizing each new bar or restaurant when it opened. Charlotte had seen advertisements for the new bar, and she had dragged her husband with her when he had gotten home.

The couple was dressed casually, and Thomas wore his weathered Stetson. They found a table and he took his hat off and placed it crown down on the table. When the waiter approached, they placed their drink orders, then turned to look at each other. "Well dear, this certainly looks very high class," Thomas said to his wife.

Charlotte nodded and looked around herself, "It has a certain charm about itself. I actually feel like I'm in an aquarium." She looked at her husband and laughed when she saw the look he had given her, "In a good way of course dear."

Cael looked at all the guests, making note of those he knew and those he had yet to meet. One of the ones he knew happened to be from a much older life, one under another body. Maz cautioned him to avoid them for now and Cael headed the advice. Instead, he took turns talking with the staff as they passed by, seeing what they might need and ensuring everything was up to par. As Johnny came up to him, he smiled, "Quite a turnout, aee Johnny?"

"Yes, Mister Maz, quite a turn out indeed. How is the music, too your liking I hope?" Johnny replied looking a tad nervous to speak to Cael.

"Yes, the tranquil music will work for now. We will save the theatrical scores for later. In the meantime, keep up the good work." Cael said patting Johnny on the back before going back to studying everyone.

His day finished Sal decided to grab a drink before heading home, it was an interesting first day, so he walked in, looked around and then spotted an open seat and headed over there.

As the last seat was taken, Cael Maz moved more into the foreground and began to make his way toward the end of the bar so that everyone could see. "Might I have everyone's attention?" He waited a few moments before smiling and nodding, "Thank you. I want to be the first to officially welcome you to Off The Deep End. As you can see, we have a wide range of aquatic life and even in attendance some of the Cetacean Ops team from Starfleet. My name is Cael Maz and I am your host of the evening. Please, enjoy the drinks as they are on us this fine evening." He nodded once then moved back toward his standing position at the other end of the bar.

Jocelyn settled back in her seat, whisky in hand, and sipped, taking in the room and the noise and the hubbub around her. The host was an intriguing one and she made a mental note to look him up later. His name was familiar, but she couldn't quite place why.

"So what are we drinking to?" she asked to those assembled.

Richard swirled his glass of rum thoughtfully. "New beginnings?" he offered thoughtfully.

"I'd definitely drink to that," Marlena smirked, leaning forward in her chair and raising her glass. "To new beginnings!" she said, clinking the glasses of each of her drinking companions. "And maybe less eventful days ahead," the woman smiled post-toast, throwing back a swig of the whisky Cowell had brought her earlier. "This really is quite smooth," Marlena remarked to the good doctor. "Guess hundreds of years of drinking will lead you to the best choices, eh?"

As the event went along, everyone that was in attendance was presented with a take-home basket of goodies that included a bottle of Trill wine of the good vintage and a note stating that it was a pleasure for them to have been in attendance and to come again.