12-18-2023, 12:13 AM
As was usually the case, rumblings and whispers of a Christmas party had reached Tyra's ears, though, truthfully, she had paid them little attention. The Artemis was, usually, filled with different Christmas gatherings at this time of year, some large and some small, but Tyra usually opted out of attending even the ones she was invited to. Oh sure, she would make an appearance at Cera's annual get together and any the senior staff might throw but she knew that the captain's presence was usually a contradiction to truly enjoying the festivities. And she remembered how critical such events were for bonding a crew together, usually through terrible decision making and alcohol.
However, Thorsdottir had made a point of mentioning this particular party no less than five times during their morning lifting sessions and Tyra had finally asked what exactly made this party any different than the usual Security alcohol-fest. The stout Nord had taken her time answering, finishing her set of deadlifts before shooting Tyra the most gleeful and mischievous grin that Tyra had seen from her in years -- since her own years as Chief of Security and overseer of the always eventful Christmas Smash. It hadn't taken more than naming the unlikely organizer to have Tyra's full attention, eyebrow arch and all, and subtly query to Cera later had confirmed it was valid intel.
It was really no surprise that Tyra couldn't resist, at least, seeing the spectacle, even if it was just so she understood why she had an inbox of complaints the next morning about the tastelessness of the Artemis' general sense of humor. Given the gallow and dark humor of security, she could only hope that Calleja had toned it down just a little for the general audience but Brid had assured her that it wasn't going to result in a huge headache for her the next day, or no more than usual.
Her first impression was positive, though she had to stifle a chuckle or two as she noted some rather on the nose pokes at Artemis' cultural quirks. Leave it to Calleja to avoid any subtleties and dive right into the heart of Artemis' reputation as alcoholic, love starved maniacs but if the shoe fit.
"I'm going to go crush some egos. I haven't been working on my deadlift for nothing," Brid commented with a grin from Tyra's right. The stout blonde made a show of flexing her lats, though her oversized ugly sweater with a Viking skull and a lopsided Santa hat didn't exactly do her any favors in the endeavor.
For her part, Tyra had picked a much more subtle outfit: brown leather leggings, boots and a green sweater that was subtly Christmas themed, except at closer glance the snowflakes that trimmed the top and bottom were actually little Vikings with swinging battleaxes. It was a hold over from when security had done a Viking Christmas years before, which was also where Brid's sweater had come from.
The redhead looked around before her eyes fell on a beacon of light and hope in the wasteland of terrible jokes. "And I'm going to see how authentic the still is, though I don't suppose the expert is here lurking anywhere to give his opinion," she commented, pointing towards where her attention had been grabbed and not even bothering to glance around for Elias in the crowd.
With that, Tyra was left to her own devices as Thorsdottir slipped away with far more grace than should have been trapped in such a muscular package. As she moved, she caught sight of Robin, Beka and Miller in a tight group, though there seemed to be a tone there that Tyra wasn't exactly sure how to interpret. Devereuax and Star were both at the bar, where usually one sought shelter when a little unsure of oneself at a party, and Tyra didn't think her approach would make that any better. However, the most curious sight was seeing Damian with a rather young lady on her arm, who definitely did not belong to Artemis, but the redhead did vaguely remember Cera telling her a story about gummy bears, too much alcohol, and some midshipmen that had taken a liking to Damian.
Is this another Frost, Damian? she thought with just the tiniest of smirks as she forced herself to continue on her way to the still instead of investigating that particular question. She was sure she'd circle back to it later, like a shark with blood in the water.
Her gaze flitted over the large masterpiece of metal with far more of a critical eye than she was proud of but she took her alcohol seriously, particularly the alcohol of her ancestors. At a glance, it looked authentic enough, even if it had far more flair than any mountain man from Appalachia would be comfortable with. And the shine the bartender poured for her certainly looked, smelled and tasted right with a clean burn going straight to her core.
She took another sip as she scanned the room, greeting a few of the security officers that were brave enough to saddle up to the bar next to her. There were a few choice jokes and chuckles as they got their drinks before departing for what looked to be an area with laser rocket launchers. All Tyra could do was shake her head and smile before her eyes fell on the woman of the hour leaning further down the bar from her.
"Do I want to know how you acquired so much shine in such a short time? And not the shitty stuff either," Tyra said by way of greeting Calleja, raising her glass in appreciation at the last sentence. "This certainly takes the cake for the most uniquely themed gathering too."
== Tag Calleja ==
However, Thorsdottir had made a point of mentioning this particular party no less than five times during their morning lifting sessions and Tyra had finally asked what exactly made this party any different than the usual Security alcohol-fest. The stout Nord had taken her time answering, finishing her set of deadlifts before shooting Tyra the most gleeful and mischievous grin that Tyra had seen from her in years -- since her own years as Chief of Security and overseer of the always eventful Christmas Smash. It hadn't taken more than naming the unlikely organizer to have Tyra's full attention, eyebrow arch and all, and subtly query to Cera later had confirmed it was valid intel.
It was really no surprise that Tyra couldn't resist, at least, seeing the spectacle, even if it was just so she understood why she had an inbox of complaints the next morning about the tastelessness of the Artemis' general sense of humor. Given the gallow and dark humor of security, she could only hope that Calleja had toned it down just a little for the general audience but Brid had assured her that it wasn't going to result in a huge headache for her the next day, or no more than usual.
Her first impression was positive, though she had to stifle a chuckle or two as she noted some rather on the nose pokes at Artemis' cultural quirks. Leave it to Calleja to avoid any subtleties and dive right into the heart of Artemis' reputation as alcoholic, love starved maniacs but if the shoe fit.
"I'm going to go crush some egos. I haven't been working on my deadlift for nothing," Brid commented with a grin from Tyra's right. The stout blonde made a show of flexing her lats, though her oversized ugly sweater with a Viking skull and a lopsided Santa hat didn't exactly do her any favors in the endeavor.
For her part, Tyra had picked a much more subtle outfit: brown leather leggings, boots and a green sweater that was subtly Christmas themed, except at closer glance the snowflakes that trimmed the top and bottom were actually little Vikings with swinging battleaxes. It was a hold over from when security had done a Viking Christmas years before, which was also where Brid's sweater had come from.
The redhead looked around before her eyes fell on a beacon of light and hope in the wasteland of terrible jokes. "And I'm going to see how authentic the still is, though I don't suppose the expert is here lurking anywhere to give his opinion," she commented, pointing towards where her attention had been grabbed and not even bothering to glance around for Elias in the crowd.
With that, Tyra was left to her own devices as Thorsdottir slipped away with far more grace than should have been trapped in such a muscular package. As she moved, she caught sight of Robin, Beka and Miller in a tight group, though there seemed to be a tone there that Tyra wasn't exactly sure how to interpret. Devereuax and Star were both at the bar, where usually one sought shelter when a little unsure of oneself at a party, and Tyra didn't think her approach would make that any better. However, the most curious sight was seeing Damian with a rather young lady on her arm, who definitely did not belong to Artemis, but the redhead did vaguely remember Cera telling her a story about gummy bears, too much alcohol, and some midshipmen that had taken a liking to Damian.
Is this another Frost, Damian? she thought with just the tiniest of smirks as she forced herself to continue on her way to the still instead of investigating that particular question. She was sure she'd circle back to it later, like a shark with blood in the water.
Her gaze flitted over the large masterpiece of metal with far more of a critical eye than she was proud of but she took her alcohol seriously, particularly the alcohol of her ancestors. At a glance, it looked authentic enough, even if it had far more flair than any mountain man from Appalachia would be comfortable with. And the shine the bartender poured for her certainly looked, smelled and tasted right with a clean burn going straight to her core.
She took another sip as she scanned the room, greeting a few of the security officers that were brave enough to saddle up to the bar next to her. There were a few choice jokes and chuckles as they got their drinks before departing for what looked to be an area with laser rocket launchers. All Tyra could do was shake her head and smile before her eyes fell on the woman of the hour leaning further down the bar from her.
"Do I want to know how you acquired so much shine in such a short time? And not the shitty stuff either," Tyra said by way of greeting Calleja, raising her glass in appreciation at the last sentence. "This certainly takes the cake for the most uniquely themed gathering too."
== Tag Calleja ==