Steren Allett (cornish_star) wrote in star_trek, @ 2009-07-24 16:44:00 |
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Current mood: | crazy |
Entry tags: | crew lounge, steren |
Soothing the Savage Beast...
Who: Steren, her fiddle and Open
Date: The early morning hours of April 10th
Where: Officer's Lounge
What: Venting frustration via musical instrument. Feel free to interrupt her!
Rating: G for now.
Status: In Progress
It was, as it as on every ship, the little things that got to her. By this point in her career, the several ships having passed her off on each other in remarkably quick succession, Steren liked to think she'd learned to deal with little things, after all, she had to, as a Starfleet officer, hadn't she and she'd been doing it this whole time. Fairly well, she thought, in spite of what at least a few ship's counselors and other associated Starfleet shrinks had told her about her "tendency toward violent action" or whatever they had termed it during each evaluation.
Personally, Steren herself had stopped listening to all of those things quite some time ago. She'd learned that making direct eye contact, and smiling contritely was about all doctors wanted from her. When the evaluations turned to orders, she had always paid attention and that probably was the saving grace for all of this, and for her place in Starfleet. Listening to those things was hard, too hard for her to take. It implied an imperfection, something she could never stand for, never tolerate and something she would never tolerate or come to handle well.
Like it or not, small imperfections still came back to Steren now, haunting her and building up while she was on the bridge, then stalking her in the night while she couldn't sleep until it was impossible to take much more of them tormenting her. Every little problem of the past few days, things that anyone else would have forgotten, or would not have noticed came to bother her, insistently cycling through her head until she could do nothing else but think of them, and only them. She knew that she'd been doing a good job, but somehow, good was not enough and good would never be enough and everything kept building up until she was about to scream, which Steren did not allow herself to do.
Eventually, there was just one thing to chase away her demons for a while. Knowing all too well that her neighbors were sleeping, as most normal people on her shift should be, and knowing too, that not too many people were likely to be milling in the lounge this time of night, Steren snagged her fiddle, headed for a (yes, thankfully!) empty officer's lounge, and within a few minutes of arriving, touched her bow to strings and began playing, gradually losing everything but the maniac energy that claimed her now, as the furious and frenetic tunes spilled wildly out of the little fiddle, all illusions of control forgotten as a series of old tunes wore on, doing their part to help her loose a little of what she never dared to loose during the day.
Somehow, for now, it was completely safe, she was alone, and nothing else even began to matter. If someone else had happened to walk in, she probably wouldn't notice them until she paused to take a breath...