Lt. Commander Jo Marshall - The Golden Tree

[Alieth]

I believe that setting a scene is one of the critical parts of our media, and that making it appealing, engaging and yet with a delightful ability to open a door to another world and let us be enchanted by it is a true artistry. @Jo Marshall does a wonderful example of creative writing here, perfectly setting the scene, the mood and the tone it will have, while giving us a window into the wonders of Deluvia.

I can almost feel the sea breeze.

 

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((The Golden Tree, Promenade, Cochtois Lagoon, Deluvia IV))

 

A little further toward the centre of the promenade stood a huge golden tree. It was quite likely the tree had been there when the Selkie had settled on the planet in recent memory, as the gnarled branches and thick roots growing out of the loamy soil whispered of centuries rather than decades. Boughs and limbs stretched overhead in a canopy of gorgeous crisp leaves, fluttering beneath the radiant sun, and soaking up the salty sea breeze wafting in from the lagoon. 

 

Set up around it, several tables for standing and leaning on, and more importantly, resting a glass on, were arranged in a circle. Instead of sitting and marvelling at the view, or taking in the thriving tree, or listening to the rustle the leaves made on the quiet hum of the zephyr, guests could stand and take their requested beverage in the full knowledge when they were finished, it was time to move on. 

 

Only a few had made their escape in the brief space of time Jo had stood there. Leaning her elbows on the wooden tabletop, she looked out to the sea rolling just off the promenade, listened to the leaves and the chatter of nearby patrons, and the sounds of clinking glasses over the swell of the ocean breaking against the shore. Pensive was in her mood, while her expression bore someone trying not to be so lost in her own thoughts. 

 

Ordering another round of drinks, she looked up when someone familiar stepped into view not so far away and waved him over. 

 

Marshall: Cory, over here!

 

Stoyer: Response

 

A selkie server with eyes like pools of mystical shimmering water set down another two glasses of their token golden tree ale — made from the sap of the tree they stood under. Light orange and smooth in texture, they served it in a plain but tall glass. It smelled of fruit and a little like sugared cinnamon, though it was hard to describe without tasting it, and it lingered on the breath for hours afterwards. 

 

As her friend approached, Jo pushed the accompanying glass over the wooden table toward him. 

 

Marshall: It tastes nicer than it looks, trust me. Though try to take it slow. It packs a punch to the olfactory senses like no other. 

 

Stoyer: Response

 

Marshall: With great power comes the great need to take a nap. I’ve been eying up your hammock spot for most of the morning. ::Said with steely determination in blue it would one day be hers.:: How are you doing? Skarbek hit you like a freight starship as well? ::Then paused for a second as she looked at him with a wisp of a smile on her features.:: Have you got taller or am I imagining it? 

 

Stoyer: Response

 

 

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Lt. Commander Jo Marshall

First Officer

USS Gorkon, NCC-82293

G239304JM0