Shards of History (Part 2)

Posted on Sun Jun 30th, 2019 @ 8:05pm by Lieutenant Commander Amber Quinn & Lieutenant JG Paris Deville
Edited on on Sun Jun 30th, 2019 @ 8:14pm

1,335 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Caverns of the mind
Location: Deville's Quarters

[CONTINUED]

[OLD]
Paris leaned down and took it, giving his friend a pet, before inserting it into the keyhole and turning to Amber. "You may want to stand up. You won’t be able to see everything from that angle."

[NEW]

She stood. "I know that you can learn about history by reading about it and studying it, by living it, or by talking to someone who lived it. None of them give you the complete picture, but all give you pieces that can help you understand."

"But that all counts on if you are the type of person who wants to learn more and doesn't just accept what you see and told." Paris replied softly with a smile as he looked toward her. "Not everyone wants to learn more, like you and I, and just decide it has no consequence. You are also right on something else. While I have experienced things, living through it, it doesn't mean I am trained to catch the patterns that emerge like some who studied things with an outside eye. My experience comes with memories, and often, a bit of personal biased. Which is why I sometimes may not be the right person to judge certain things." He placed his hand on the key and turned it slowly until he heard the click of the lock releasing. "For what its worth I value your insight, and I hope you realize, what it means to me to share these memories with someone."

She was beginning to understand. This was not at all the person who burst into the briefing to announce his presence, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. "I don't think any of us can truly understand history. Everyone has a bias, from those who write and live it to those who study it. The key is to get a broad understanding before you dive into the specifics. Even then, I've found there is far too much left out." She nodded to the chest. "These are some of your memories?"

"Bits and pieces." Paris replied softly with a nod. He slowly placed his hand on the front of the lid and suddenly a smile formed on his face as he turned to look at Amber. "Let's dig in, shall we?" He let out a playful laugh before opening the lid completely.

The lid of the trunk stood upward, being stopped by two small chains on the sides, and revealing several photos and small trinkets tapped to its inside. On the inside of the trunk itself was a large mixture of things, some organized by size and shape, while others were placed by importance. She could spot a few things right away. The photos had him with different people. Some were of him in uniform and others of him in something different. Most commonly a suit and tie. Only two were of him alone and they were mainly of him in uniform standing next to some kind of plane. Both uniforms were different and revealed the era in which it was taken. The first plane was a biplane and the other was a jet fighter, but one thing stood out that caught her eyes aside from his look. It was the callsign used in his name. The Devil.

She looked at the various items visible in the trunk, then down at Paris. "How did you get that call sign?"

He smiled slightly, taking the glass to his lips before taking a sip, and lowering it back down to his lap, focusing back to Amber. "Sometimes it would result in my last name." He smirked a bit before adding. "I grew quite pleased with Devillie." He looked away a bit before adding. "Others, it would be because of something else entirely. Some would often say 'that's how he flew. Like the devil himself.' Daring and cold. Calculated and cruel. Down right deceitful." Paris was quiet before turning back to her and smiling again. "Or maybe it was because The Daredevil was too long of a word." He added a slight laugh before taking another sip.

Yes, she could believe those reasons. She was also sure there were probably more as well. "I think I'll take the first explanation," she said. "I'm sure you can be quite cruel when you want to be."

"When I want to be." Paris replied softly, gazing into her eyes, as a devilish smile formed on his face. It was soon hidden by his glass as he took a sip, holding it there, while his gaze never broke. Slowly, he lowered the glass and cleared his throat placing it on the table by the trunk. "Everyone has their own levels of cruel and darkness, My dear Commander. One must only be pushed past it in order for it to be revealed and then its a matter of if." He leaned back and nodded, the smile fading, as he concluded. "If you give in or not." Paris whispered softly.

She found herself trapped in his gaze, unwilling or unable to look away. She could not abide cruelty, but there was a seductiveness to the darkness, a need to let go, just this once, and give in to the promise in his gaze. And in this moment, she knew it would not take much for her to do just that. Her hand trembled as she took a drink.

"Did I say something to frighten you?" Paris replied softly, gesturing to her hand, something he quickly noticed. It was his way. He wasn't telepathic, but some around him could swear he was, considering all the things he could pick up by just a look. "It wasn't my intent. I do apologize."

"No. I'm not...frightened," she said, setting her glass on the table. "You have no need to apologize." What she was feeling was not fear. She was afraid that if she didn't get a grip on herself, he would see that.

"Then why the sudden uneasiness?" He asked softly, leaning back a bit, before adding. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"I'm not uneasy, and I'm not frightened," she replied quietly. And she could not tell him that if he touched her, she might just melt. She hoped it was just the stress of the past few months, but she doubted it.

Paris let out a soft chuckle and smiled. "Alright... I won't pry. Your secrets are your own. When you are ready to say, I will be here to listen, and we will proceed accordingly." He chuckle again and reached down for his wine glass and lifted it from the table. "Flying isn't my only skill. As you may have read, and possibly warned, I spent a long time as a thief and con. Which I honed for a very long time. I learned to read people by just observing. Cold reading, some call it. Micro expressions and the like. These things help when it comes to learning who has what you need and how you can get it. Which buttons to push and which buttons won't work. You learn a lot about others and, more importantly, about yourself." He took a sip of his wine and sat there quietly as he put the glass back down. "So, while you say nothing is wrong, there are small reactions that you may be unaware of that are telling me differently." He looked to her and smiled again, trying to set her at ease. "I am not offended, and I don't fault you for not saying anything, because you don't know me well enough to trust me with it. I am okay with building that with time. I am El-Aurian, remember. We are known for longevity and for being good listeners." Paris smiled again and held up his glass. "More wine?"

(To be continued...)

Lieutenant Commander Amber Quinn
Executive Officer
USS Aurora

Lieutenant JG Paris Deville
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Aurora

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