(open)

[hischair]

When: 19th
Rating: TBC
Characters: You!
Summary: A shindig at the beach for the best navigator in Starfleet.
Log: 

[ OOC: Feel free to assume your character has received an invite to the party via their inbox or word of mouth for Chekov's birthday! Everyone is welcome except you, Khan and presents are mandatory for the Enterprise's young navigator. Please tag under either section to keep the party somewhat ordered, and have fun! ]

Comments

open forever.

[valedictory]

[ Harry is certainly up for a party - and he's gotten to like Chekov quite a bit, so he's more than happy to be here for the occasion. He's got a bathing suit, a t-shirt... he's entirely beach-attired and quite ready to enjoy himself.

Pardon him if the first thing he heads for is the barbecue - most people just don't understand how long the joyous wonder of not having to eat leola root sticks with you. ]

[hischair]

[ Behold, Captain Kirk in blue shorts as he pokes the barbecue which he has commandeered the proverbial conn of. He offers Harry a smile when Janeway's crewman sidles over, hand on a hip as he turns the spitting sausages from a safe distance (no one wants gristle burning their abs, yuck). ]

Mr. Kim! What can I do for you today? Anything but the burgers right now, Bones burned those.

[ He didn't, but neither is he around to argue that fact. ]

[valedictory]

[ There's a little suck of air in through lightly gritted teeth. Mostly for dramatic effect. ]

Ooooh. That's a shame.

[ He considers carefully. ]

Well, I could definitely go for some chicken. Though to be honest, everything looks amazing to me. I still haven't entirely gotten over real food.

[hischair]

Are the synthesizers that grouchy on Voyager?

[ There are times when Jim doesn't know just how old-fashioned he's being, such as the fact he says synthesizers instead of replicators which are likely to be implemented in another thirty years or so dependent on his time-line. He also has the unfortunate ability to go on at length about minor details because chatting to people is just something he likes to do, almost verging on babble. ]

I once kept trying to program a food card to make Southern fried chicken for Bones and apparently it tasted like old socks. Not my finest hour, but I promise the barbecue's safe from tampering.

[ Using the tongs to put a chicken breast and two fat drumsticks on a plate, he hands them over. ]

[valedictory]

[ The old socks bit gets a laugh, with a smile that lingers as he takes the plate. ]

Thanks. I'm glad to hear the barbecue hasn't been breached. I'm definitely not in the mood for any footwear.

[ And well... it's not that he doesn't like Neelix, of course, personally speaking... ]

The issue with our replicators - that's what they call them, in our time - is that of course they have to run off of something, and the problem is that being so far out on our own, we can run low on energy pretty easily and have to be careful about how we use things. That means use is rationed. To make up for the shortfall, we find food where we can and we have a hydroponics bay on board... and a cook.