#sitanna

𝒻𝓁𝑜𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒷𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓁𝓎 ǝǝɥsuɐq ɐ ǝʞᴉl ɯɐǝɹɔs

                        𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍

[Your chat with Riker had gotten you thinking. Was Sitanna playing you? -and, did you care if she was? Some of the ETs were known to have humans on the menu, K’dashiens among them, and that charm was said to lure in victims. But Riker would have said if she was a killer, wouldn’t he? You have to wonder, as you wander, if she’s as dangerous as the CO made her out to be. The flutter in your chest on seeing her through the greenhouse window banishes those thoughts. You don’t have clearance to enter, but luckily she spots you over her shoulder and lets you in.]

[Sitanna]: “This isn’t an area of the ship I imagined you’d have much interest in,” she begins, easing back to watch you. It’s hard to shake the feeling of being assessed. “You seem tense.”

What are you talking about? Maybe a little bit. ⮞ I just finished a workout a little while ago, might be why.

[Sitanna]: Her arms cross and she relaxes her weight back onto her heels. There’s a long pause - you’re about to speak again when she finally asks, “How are you getting along with our CO?”

How did you know I was with Riker? I’m really not sure that’s any of your business. ⮞ He had some choice words to say about you. But I guess you already knew that.

[Sitanna]: She flashes a smile. It’s hard to tell if it’s from genuine amusement or the open mouth of a crocodile. “And? Do you believe him?”

⮞ I’m not sure yet, honestly. Should I? No, I don’t believe him. He made some pretty good points.

[Sitanna]: The priestess chuckles mildly and lowers her lashes a moment. Some part of you knows it all must be intentional - the way the warm red light catches her pale shoulder, the flutter of dark lashes on her cheeks, the way the adornment on her lip glimmers like a lure in the deep dark ocean. But does knowing stop you falling for it? “You’re a clever man, Wynter. It would be just as easy to turn you against him. Tell you how spurning his advances wounded his pride, how hot his ire became when I would not yield to him. And then what would you do? Hanging in the balance, the Sword of Damocles above, Hell below?”

I... really don’t know how to answer that. Are you saying that’s what happened? ⮞ Which one are you? The Sword, or Hell? I’d have to go with my gut, I guess. Nothing else to do, really.

[Sitanna]: “Does it matter? One is the thief of joy, the other is retribution. What matters is not what I am, but what you would choose.” It’s a lot to take in, and as you’re considering your answer she’s crossing the room. You forget for a moment what you had been talking about. How could a priestess be either? It takes your arm around her to remind you that holiness where she comes from is not holiness where you come from. Oh, but it tastes holy, her whispered breath asking, “What do you think I am, Wynter?”

I don’t know, Sitanna. I think you might be retribution for my past sins. ⮞ I think you might be the thief of joy, waiting in the shadows.

[Sitanna]: She seems pleased by your answer, but doesn’t really confirm or deny - she seems to like the discourse more than the resolution. Maybe she doesn’t know the answer either. The greenhouse is warm, but it runs cold when she pulls away from you to slip out the door. It leaves you standing there a good few minutes before you realize you don’t have the clearance to get out on your own.

[continue working out in silence, pretending this alien hasn’t been sitting there staring for the last five minutes] [grunt extra loudly so she knows you’re working hard] ⮞ Just gonna watch, then, huh? 

[Sitanna]: “What, is there a problem with me enjoying the view?”

⮞ Problem? No, it’s just a little bit distracting, that’s all. [up the weights to try to impress her] [ignore her]

[Sitanna]: “I apologize for distracting you, then. You’re Wynter, aren’t you? I’ve heard all about you. You’re lucky Riker let you on; there’s a price on your head planetside.”

[act like this isn’t troubling information, maybe flex a little in the process] ⮞ What?  Bullshit there’s a price on my head, show me the receipt.

[Sitanna]: “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t think he knows. And even if he did, you aren’t the only one on this station with blood on your hands.” Her eyes are stunning, but more than a little bit invasive. Like she can see through flesh and bone and has had an opinion on it all since before your birth.

[continue to pretend not to be concerned] ⮞ Hard to get out without blood on your hands, these days. But I’d appreciate it all the same if you kept that bit of intel to yourself. Listen, you tell anyone, I’ll wring your pretty neck, got it?

[Sitanna]: She rises, flashing a smile. Soft lips cover frightfully sharp teeth. Fetching a clean towel off the rack, she crosses the room to present it in offering, dangling the fabric from a single diabolical claw. “I’ll keep your secret, Wynter, though I would hardly call it safe. Here.”

⮞ [take the towel] Thanks. On both accounts, I guess... I saw you in the cafeteria before, didn’t I? [take the towel and make a point of drying down as sensually as possible] [fumble the towel]

[Sitanna]: “That’s right.” She’s very close, suddenly. Her scent is transportive, plunging you into the warm summer afternoons of your youth in a bed of flowers, hot sun tempered by a cool breeze. But the touch of her nails is like fire ants when she touches you. Like bee stings. They set the hairs on the back of your neck to standing. “Am I making you nervous, Wynter? Are you frightened of me?”

[scoff with as much bravado as you can muster and puff out your chest] M-maybe a little bit. ⮞ I’m not frightened of much, any more. So, no.

[Sitanna]: “Maybe you should be.” She departs, then, warm summer afternoon pulled from your flesh, leaving you with a cold sweat and a shiver.

⮞ How do I have clearance for the armoury and not for the flower room? My stupid clearance card must be broken... I wonder how tough this window is.

[Sitanna]: “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

I wasn’t going to break in! ⮞ I’m so embarrassed... I was just looking, honest! Let me in.

[Sitanna]: “Your clearance card won’t get you in there. Omirron keeps his flora under tight lock and key. Oh, none of it is dangerous. Here, you may not have clearance, but I do. Move, I’ll let you in.” She slips around, fetching her card out.

[smell her hair] So, the crown thing, are you royalty or something? ⮞ You’re K’dashien, aren’t you? I’ve always wanted to visit K’dash, I’ve heard wonderful things!

[Sitanna]: “You’re very close to me right now.”

⮞ Oh, right. Sorry. Just excited. Can you hurry up and let me in? [say nothing]

[Sitanna]: The lock clicks and she opens the door, inviting Mena inside. The greenhouse is humid and warm, the myriad flowers producing all manner of aroma. “Just mind the big bulbous one. We aren’t entirely sure what it is yet.”

Is it edible? ⮞ This is such an amazing collection. I think I recognize this one. They call it a wasp fern, don’t they? Because of the stinging barbs? [touch the stinging barbs and get stung]

[Sitanna]: She seems pleased by the display of knowledge. “That’s right. Wasp fern, native to the islands of Sulani. Omirron and the doctor have been studying the barbs as a potential local anesthetic.”

⮞ Wow, that’s fascinating! But it would be valuable, right? To be able to produce your own anesthetic? Really? Doesn’t that seem counterproductive?  Huh? 

[Sitanna]: “Extremely valuable. Not that we have many injuries, but it does happen. Occasionally a ship will dock for medical care while they refuel.” She leans against the potting bench. “Diallo. That was your name on the roster. I am Sitanna.”

That’s my name, don’t wear it out. ⮞ Mena Diallo. It’s good to meet you, Sitanna. Thank you again for letting me in here. Well, I hope I’m not one of the unlucky few to need that medical care.

[Sitanna]: “Of course, Miss Diallo. It’s been my pleasure.”