The Living... and the Dead

Posted on Sun 19th Nov, 2017 @ 3:50pm by Colonel Horatio Drake & Commander Mikaela Locke & Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Commander Alora Baro & Commander Jasmine Collins-Keller & Lieutenant Anjohl Gaden MD & Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington & Lieutenant Commander Lanis Dhuro MD & Carlo Rienzi & Purulence Addams

3,730 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: A Phaser as Deadly as a Candlestick
Location: The Addams House
Timeline: This is Halloween, everybody make a scene!

Vanguard was a starbase, a duranium cylinder of brobdingnagian proportion, a bubble of habitability in one of the most toxic environments known to the United Federation of Planets. Within that bubble, a set of decks known as Tivoli Gardens attempted to replicate the conditions of Humanity's far-distant homeworld, Sol III -- the shining planet known as Earth. On the lowest of those decks, in a neighborhood full of family homes evoking a time period several centuries gone, children of various races dressed in costumes and carried bags and baskets from house to house, uttering the ritual phrase "trick or treat!"

One house, at the end of a street, was visited by very few children. They hurried past it, casting glances at it out the corners of eyes, muttering dares to each other to visit that porch with its collection of skeletons, their eyes glowing, looking out, waiting, occasionally beckoning with a bony finger. Behind the skeletons, three pumpkins had been sacrificed: their insides scraped out, their hides mutilated into caricatures of gruesome faces, a fire left burning inside them. The gourds were lined up beside the door with care, in hopes that Santa Muerte soon would be there.

"Why don't they come to the door?" complained Ischemia. "Here I've donned this wonderfully horrid witch's costume, and no one comes to see it. If I do say so myself, these jelly eyeballs are quite delicious, so scrumptiously smushy in the mouth. Do have one, sisters, dear. Doesn't look like we'll be giving them to the children," she said glumly, scooping another eyeball from the bowl. "I do hope the dinner turns out less disappointing."

"It's always fun to see who arrives first," Purulence said. She had painted her face to resemble Paul Stanley from the old Earth rock band KISS. She made a face at the jelly eyeballs and reached for a miniature--but anatomically-correct--chocolate skull dusted with cinnamon, instead. She wore a floor-length, long-sleeved burgundy velvet dress with intricate beading at the sleeves and neckline.

"To each his own ... poison, that is," Schemy said, tiptoeing her fingers over the plates on the buffet table. She paused and then moved on, fingers still air-walking. They stopped over a plate of ... "Purulence, did you make these? Are they supposed to be ghosts or ..." She leaned in closer, "... perhaps cookies of Itt?"

"Don't know; I didn't cook anything; just had the apple tamales catered," Purulence said, peering at the misshapen blobs of confection. "Could they be Crumple-horned Snorkacks?"

Chlamydia glided by, her face painted in imitation of a sugar skull. Together with her already skeletal figure, it was a truly macabre illusion. "Very few came to our house in Sleepy Hollow," she observed. "Only the brightest and bravest... and of course, the dullest and hungriest." She accepted one of the eyeballs, popping it in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Lovely as always, Schemy." She progressed toward the door, pausing just inside it. "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes! Open, locks, whoever knocks!"

---

Since their meeting in the Academy, Locke had always been able to hold a strong degree of control and persuasion over Drake. This was nothing sexual but rather an ability to see past his front and persona, to force him to admit what he was really thinking. Naturally, she had used this to her advantage in persuading him that coming to this dinner party was the best course of action for him.

"Commander, I'm not sure..." Drake was cut off mid-sentence and knew, as soon as he opened his mouth, he was going to get chastised for using rank to try and sound more serious.

Mikaela looked up at Drake with a wicked glint in her eye and her eyebrow raised. Despite being several inches shorter than him, she met his gaze with ease. "Really?" she began, "Does this look like a standard uniform?" With a brief swooping motion of her hand, she gestured to the black open-necked shirt and black jeans she was wearing. She had opted not to 'dress-up' as such - as she understood was the tradition for such occasions. She had never really gone in for that sort of thing, mostly finding the whole process laborious, but she had figured that plain black would serve the purpose. She had made an effort with her hair and make-up, however, dying her already dark hair a jet-black and scraping it back into a severe bun, and applying wild, dark eye make-up off-set by bright red lipstick.

He lowered his voice to almost a whisper and moved his head closer to hers, in an effort not to be overheard. "You didn't tell me it was a casual occasion... I nearly wore my uniform! Do you think this is still too much?" He looked down at his Marine 'casual wear'. A pair of black, combat style trousers with a Marine green undershirt and black jacket. "Perhaps if I just take off the rank insignia..." He pulled the metal pips from the right breast of the jacket.

---

LT. Baro Alora walked toward the house. She didn't know the CMO well but the one encounter had been memorable. Not bad, just she definitely got the impression the CMO was an individual in the truest sense of the word. And now this, an invite to some kind of celebration of one's passed on ancestors. Well not that she'd known that she knew some of human customs and such, so was vaguely familiar with the mid-fall one of dressing up in costumes and such but, as she wanted to make a good impression, she'd done research so she'd understand what was going on.

She stopped at the gate and took a full minute just to take it in, "Individuals no doubt...." She muttered to herself then took a step closer to the gate. The gate swung open and though Alora was used to doors opening for her, she couldn't help but get the impression it was annoyed at her delay. Shaking off the feeling she headed to the front step of the character filled house. She wore tall leather boots, black pants, and a solid medieval work shirt as well as a leather apron with a basic tool belt that indicated a medieval blacksmith. She carried a bottle of Bajoran Springwine, bottled by family on Bajor years ago. As she had been taught it was rude to come to a person's house for the first time without a gift, considered a sign of respect and politeness.

She tapped the door chime.

"I don't believe that works," said a masked woman dressed as a witch. "I think you have to use the knocker." Ischemia, never patient, had come around from the back door and joined those entering at the front.

A shadow fell across the stained glass panels of the door from the inside, and then Chlamydia opened it. "Lieutenant Baro," she said. "How lovely you look. Enter freely, and of your own will." She stood aside, opening the way, and frowned very slightly as she noticed Ischemia trailing behind Baro. She glanced at the table with the Halloween treats, confirming that only Purulence was there, still nibbling on a piece of the chocolate skull she'd selected.

Ischemia smiled brightly at her sister and entered freely, of her own will.

Baro smiled at Ischemia first then turned to the CMO with another smile. "I've brought a gift." She said indicating the old bottle of Springwine to Chlamydia as she stepped in, moving to one side of the door.

"How thoughtful!" Chlamydia enthused. She placed a small golden statue of Samantabhadra in front of the door, keeping it from swinging closed again. She accepted the bottle with a smile. "Make yourself comfortable," she invited. "There are snacks on the sideboard there and more substantial fare in the dining room."

Alora glanced curiously at the statue briefly before smiling at Chlamydia and moving further into the room.

---

"What is that get-up you're wearing?" Dhuro Lanis asked Paul Graves as the two of them approached the front gate. The Chief Counselor was garbed in white tie and tails, with a red baldric of some sort across his chest but worn under the formal black tail-coat. Lanis was dressed in typical Bajoran clothing for a semi-formal event, though the tunic he wore was of a style about forty years old and was beautifully embroidered.

"It's a Count Dracula costume," Paul said. He was about to open the gate for the doctor when it opened by itself. "Must have motion sensors. That's convenient."

"Not if you want to keep people out of your yard," Lanis said. He glanced at all of the dead leaves scattered about. "I ought to ask Chlamydia if she'd like me to come by and rake. This could make decent mulch. So who is Count Dracula, and why are you wearing his clothes?"

"He's a character from an old Earth novel. He sustained himself on human blood, which he would obtain by biting his victims on the neck--and he was only half-alive. Don't ask me to explain, as I don't understand it, either."

"He couldn't just use an IV like everyone else?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Paul asked with a fang-toothed grin.

Lanis gave him a baffled look. "I thought this was an occasion for honoring the dead."

"I believe it is," Paul said. "I presumed that was why you brought the candleholder." He glanced at the meter-high object that the surgeon carried. "It's Bajoran, isn't it?"

Lanis nodded. "Yes. I had a patient who died a while back. This is for him."

Paul paused and looked at him for a moment. "I see his death affected you deeply."

"Yes, it did." Lanis let out a breath. "Let's go inside."

Jasmine and Adam arrived hand in hand. Jasmine dressed in a black leotard that stretched nicely over her body showing no flaws in her figure save the small bump that had formed in her stomach over the last couple of months. She then wrapped herself in linen bandages here and there. She drew attention to her belly by applying a large pair of blue eyes placed to look as if they were peering out of her tummy through a break in the bandages. Adam looked very dashing in the pantaloons and suspenders of a tomb explorer from ancient Earth fiction, Indiana Jones. He even wore the iconic weathered brown fedora and carried a whip tied to his belt.

"I gotta tell you Jazz, this idea for our costumes was amazing." Adam smiled at her. "I didn't realize you were so creative."

"I am a researcher after all." She grinned. "I found the idea in the archives. I fell in love with it." As they reached the door, Adam knocked. The pair waited to be invited in.

"Oh, just look at you all," Jade laughed as she made her way through the gate, Reon, and Serena in tow. The three of them were dressed as seventeenth-century musketeers. They flowed gently through and around the others.

Serena patted Lieutenant Collins on the arm. "How cute your costume is with those eyeballs on your baby bump! And you," she turned to Adam, "the perfect mate for a mummy."

"Thank you," Jasmine instinctively put her hand to her baby bump. She'd been doing that more and more lately but nobody seemed to mind and she felt a sort of peace when she did.

Purulence came over to Jasmine and Adam to get a closer look at Jasmine's costume. "Oh, I love that! It's the most original outfit I've seen so far!"

She turned to Lanis. "And who are you dressed as?"

Lanis blinked and shrugged. "Just me."

"Well, just-you has good taste in shirts. That embroidery looks hand-stitched."

Lanis smiled enigmatically. "It is."

Reon looked to see if Carlo had arrived, but if so, he was already inside. He smiled at the doctor and counselor when he worked his way toward the front of the group. "Count Dracula? Clever, and it fits the surroundings well, don't you think? A distant relative, perhaps?" He didn't know what made him tease the doctor, but something about him brought out that side of Velasquez, and for once, they weren't in Orchids & Jazz where he needed to be professional, so he said it.

"Of him, maybe," Lanis said to Reon with an amused look.

"I don't believe so," Addams answered thoughtfully. "I've never seen Vlad Țepeș on Family trees, at any rate. Though Countess de Ecsed certainly was one of ours."

"I don't know her by reputation, but ... wait, is that the countess from ... was it Austria? Hungary? Said to have killed young women to retain her youth or some such thing?" Reon searched his memory but could come up with nothing more than that tickle. "That's all I know, and if it's the same one you mean ... I hope she won't be among the dead honored this evening? Or was she much maligned, perhaps innocent of the charges laid on her?"

Addams smiled, the sort of smile that made one imagine torture chambers and bathtubs full of blood. "The King certainly did owe her a large amount of money," she agreed. "Though the forensic evidence produced at her trial seems rather damning. At any rate, enter freely and go safely, leaving some of the joy you bring."

"Chlamydia, where should I set up the duranja?" Lanis asked. "I don't want it to be in anyone's way."

"Place it on the dining room table if you please, Lanis," came the response. "Near the crystal ball. We'll be having the séance in there, later."

"Dining room it is," Lanis said and carried the large candle holder into the other room, where he unfolded the four legs and situated the candleholder near the crystal ball, as asked. He placed a white votive candle in the small glass lamp chimney and nodded to himself before rejoining the party.

Reon stepped through the door and walked into the large room to the left, where others were gathering around the refreshment table. He ambled around the perimeter of the room, feeling slightly out of place. Stopping before a glass-enclosed bookcase, he examined photographs that seemed quite old and were fastened into some sort of equally old frames. He wished they came with information cards, such as museums sometimes still used with antiquities. He didn't want to be judgmental, but it did seem a little appalling how many skulls were represented, one way and another, inside the bookcase, as well.

"Do you think they're real? The skulls, I mean?" asked Serena, nodding at the top shelf.

"What I think is that I don't want to think about that," Reon said, turning to her. "It's a little disturbing. I just never know with the doctor. What's real? What's ... for show? I'm not even sure it would be ... I don't know, healthy? to understand."

"What you need, buster is a drink and a snack. Not enough sugar in your system." Serena led him over to the table and handed him a plate. "Find food," she ordered before turning to Lieutenant Baro, beside her.

"Lieutenant, how are you settling in on our station? It's good to see you here. Frankly, an invitation to one of the doctor's events is something to feel honored to receive," she grinned, "so enjoy it to the fullest. Not many invitations went out."

"Just fine. It's going to be, I feel, one of the more interesting assignments I've had," she said to Serena, not that she'd had a ton of assignments, the last one being a multiyear deep space exploration one. Then after a moment, she continued, "This is certainly interesting, bit like an away mission where you don't know what to expect, but why are we out here if not to explore and learn new things," she said pleasantly. It looked odd in here, but Alora was more politely curious than scared or threatened.

"Now that's a good way to look at it," Serena nodded thoughtfully. "Any event held at the Addams house is ... an adventure into the unknown, but it's always fun, and always safe."

Alora nodded, "Everywhere I look is something interesting and you're right, it doesn't feel mean-spirited." Alora generally had a decent sense of people. The CMO and family were true individuals but not a threat to others. Like many competent people, this was so, not because they couldn't be, just because they didn't wish to be. "So, all in all, I think I am definitely going to enjoy this...." she said to Serena as she bravely eyed the body parts mock-ups on the food table, deciding if she wanted to try the eyeballs, cut off fingers, or something that looked like part of a human small intestine. She picked up a nearby plate and began to make her selections.

In the interests of joining in the spirit of things, Reon decided to believe that all the snacks on the table were real food, and not all were what they appeared to be. When he reached the end of the table where Dr. Graves stood, his plate even held something that looked like an eyeball, and a few things he wasn't even sure represented anything he'd seen in this world.

"Dr. Graves," he nodded. "What do you make of this, uh, treat?" He pointed at something that looked like twigs covered in mud.

"Haven't a clue," Paul said. "I'd guess bird's nest soup, except it doesn't look like soup. I hope the muddy-looking stuff is chocolate or maybe mole sauce. Try some of the apple tamales." He pointed them out. "They're good. And there's tuna casserole and some little meat pies."

"Now apple tamales I can handle!" Reon said, reaching for one and bypassing the twigs. "Thanks for that."

---

"Miss Lantz," the Colonel smiled at the Civilian Affairs representative, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by the minute. He once again leaned into Locke, "Everyone is dressed up! I feel beyond awkward. Can't you make an excuse up? Perhaps a Borg Cube has just dropped out of transwarp?" He took another cursory look around. "I think I'd prefer to take them on rather than this."

"Come now, Colonel Drake. You've made it this far with your lovely companion," Jade nodded at the XO. "This might be the something different that will lighten your spirits. I understand there will be spirits here tonight," she grinned. "Let us forward bravely into the unknown."

"Quite right," Drake answered. "Well let's see." He presented a small chuckle to try and offset the awkwardness.

Lantz stepped over the entryway, nodding to Chlamydia. "Of my own free will," she said with a smile.

Alora turned from the food snack table to find the room had been filling up behind her, some crew she'd met, and others were still new to her. Thing was, without uniforms, it was hard to id who was who. She had looked at the senior staff photos, however, and spent a few minutes in a game of 'ID the Brass' as she ate in a nearby corner just enjoying the atmosphere.

Captain Brooklyn Wellington entered, dressed in the attire of an ancient Roman woman with a white tunic similar to a toga with a gold rope that wrapped around her upper body. Her hair was worn up, similar to that of ancient Roman women. "Hope I haven't missed anything."

"Oh, no, the party's just getting started," Jade assured her, looking back over her shoulder. "Still plenty of food and plenty of chatting and listening to be done."

"Captain, what an interesting outfit! how have you been?" Drake saw the opportunity to distract himself for a minute or two.

Outside, Carlo arrived, pulling an insulated pony keg of bloodwine on an anti-grav pallet. "Oh, thank you," he said to the gate as it opened for him, not noticing that the gate had opened by itself. He towed the keg up to the front steps and looked up at the open door. He was dressed in full Renaissance Florentine apparel, complete with dagged sleeves, under-tunic, surcoat, hose, hat, and sheathed stiletto. "That is a weird piece of stained glass," he muttered under his breath at the image of the woman being burned at the stake. He'd never been to Dr. Addams' home before and had in fact never even met her, as he was a civilian and used the FCDA medical clinic, but Carlo had to give its owner credit; she'd outdone herself with the decorating.

The concept of Halloween was totally foreign to the Bajoran doctor. Gaden had had to do a little research on the subject when he got the invitation to the party. Costumes, he'd learned, were part of the tradition. At first, he wasn't sure how he should dress up. He thought of some Bajoran heroes, even some villains, but that didn't seem right. He'd even, briefly, thought of dressing up as Cardassian. It would have been ironic, but that just turned his stomach.

Then it came to him. He would go as a pirate. He chose a pair of loose-fitting pants, went shirtless and even sported an eye-patch and, of course, his earring.

"I didn't know we were supposed to bring something," he said to the man with the keg of bloodwine.

"Oh, hi! Nice to meet you. I'm Carlo Rienzi," Carlo said. "Don't worry; I'm only bringing bloodwine because I own a bar and can get it wholesale. They wanted some for the party. You're fine."

The guy was fine, Carlo thought. Nice chest! He shifted his gaze away before it could become obnoxious and regarded the steps again.

If Anjohl noticed the man's rather brief stare, he made no mention of it. He did, however, smile at Carlo and held out his hand in human fashion. "I'm Anjohl, Anjohl Gaden, nice to meet you."

The door opened. "Ah," said a skeletal woman with long, black hair flowing loose behind her. "A moment, if you please, Mr. Rienzi; I'll find some stout fellows to help you bring that up the steps." She turned, looked inside and said, "Oh, stout fellows! The alcohol has arrived. Would anyone care to help it up the stairs?"

 

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