Shards of History (Part 3)

Posted on Sun Jun 30th, 2019 @ 8:10pm by Lieutenant Commander Amber Quinn & Lieutenant JG Paris Deville
Edited on on Sun Jun 30th, 2019 @ 8:17pm

1,398 words; about a 7 minute read

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

[CONTINUED]

[OLD]

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?"

[NEW]


"Yes, please," she said, wondering what, exactly he read in her.

Paris reached over and took her glass, and his own, before standing up and walking over to the table where the wine bottle still lay. He placed the glasses down and then picked up the bottle. As he began to pour he began to softly sing. It was soft, and the words weren't loud enough to hear, but the fact that it was going with a rhythm was undeniable.

She listened to what she could of the song and watched while he poured their drinks. When he brought hers to her, she asked, "What are you singing?"

"An old Earth song." Paris replied before taking a sip and placing it down by the trunk. "You no doubt heard the piano before entering, Yes?"

"Yes. I'm familiar with a number of old earth songs."

"So am I." He replied before reaching into the opened trunk. "But there is more to my answer then just questioning your knowledge of Earth music." Paris said with a smile as he pulled out a picture. He handed it to her. "Here."

The photo was of him playing a grand Piano. A microphone rested on the top, close to a small glass, while a group of people were in the background. They all seemed happy and amazed. Paris, in the photo, seemed in his own world. His eyes closed and his fingers on the keys.

"I used to use a club as a front for my business. When the owner died, I took it over, and expanded it. Drinks. Parties. DJ music over the speakers. People enjoying themselves and enjoying life at the same time. Ever so often, I would play, and even sing." Paris leaned back as he continued. "The Playground was more then just a club. It was a reminder that life is short and it should be celebrated." He looked over to her and smirked as he raised his glass. "Playing is my happy place. It's relaxing and its easily enjoyed by those around you. You can change the mood with a smile song. Sadness to happiness. Anger to joy. One minute you could be hurting from a break up, and with the right tempo... the right song-" He snapped his fingers. "If could change. Sure, the problem will be there and you will have to deal with it, but you would be better prepared to deal with it after the right song. Your mind clear. You heart hurting a little less." He smiled. "I'm not saying it takes it all way, but it helps you clear your mind and give you a better handle on how to proceed." He took one more sip before asking. "Do you know where my favorite place to go is?" He asked with a smile.

She shook her head. "No. Where is your favorite place?"

"New Orleans, Louisiana." Paris replied with a smile. "Because it celebrates life, and mourns death, the same way. With loud, cheerful, music. People dancing down the street with instruments playing a happy tune. It's a place that gets it right." He leaned toward her slightly as he continued. "Don't misunderstand me. I am not saying someone is wrong to mourn a loved one quietly and peacefully. Its a life lost, someone close, and they should be missed with no doubt in my mine. However, I always felt their life should be celebrated. They lived a life and, hopefully, touched the lives of those around them along the way. Yes, they are gone, but not forgotten. It's tragic, and sad, but they should be sent out with songs and smiles. Laughs and smiles. Funny stories and with others sharing their memories." He stopped and leaned back, chuckling softly, shaking his head a bit. "I'm sorry. It's an odd way to see death, but I find it helps preserve the memory, and stops people from sinking further into the sadness that comes with loss."

"There's nothing wrong with celebrating a life well-lived," she said, sipping her wine. "I don't think we should ever stop thinking about them, either." Unless it was someone who chose to walk way from you because their career was more important. She took another sip of her drink. She was over him, but it still rankled.

Paris raised a brow as he observed her, noticing something, before a smirk before a smirk formed on his face. He brought the glass up to his lips, to hide it, before lowering it and speaking. "I think you would have liked it." He gestured to the photo. "The Playground. Good people. Good music. Time passed almost without you noticing, which is a clear sign, someone is enjoying themselves." He laughed lightly.

She smiled. "I think I would, too. So, what song were you singing?"

"A song called: Yesterday." He replied with a smile.

"By the Beatles," she said. The words of he song began to play through her memory. "I don't long for yesterday," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I deserve better." She hadn't thought of the song in a long time, and now it have a more poignant meaning for her.

Paris raised a brow, a sly smile on his face, as he nodded his head. "You may not long for it... but something keeps pulling you back to it." He replied softly before looking away and taking a sip from his wine.

"I just need to move on. To replace the bad memories." She was still thinking about the words of the song, not aware that she was revealing far too much.

"And, yet, you still find it difficult. The bad memory doesn't need to be replaced." Paris replied softly. "It needs to be overshadowed by something better. There is nothing wrong with holding onto a bad memory as long as you don't let it define you. If it were that easy it wouldn't be so difficult. You have to remember that, the memory, doesn't define you. There is more to you then one bad memory." He looked away, clearing his throat, before looking down to his glass. "I'm not prying, so you don't need to tell me what it is, but if you don't try to move passed it. It will always be there, being a part of your decisions, even holding you back." He took a sip and smiled, looking over to her, as he said softly. "Whatever that memory is, or whoever it involves, its only a wall because you allow it to be. You are far better then that. Don't let it stop you from smiling. You happen to have a beautiful one and I would like to see it more often."

(To be continued...)

Lieutenant JG Paris Deville
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Aurora

Lieutenant Commander Amber Quinn
Executive Officer
USS Aurora

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