[Perhaps the desire to explore once more will strike her again in the future, but for now, Beverly has had more than enough adventuring and danger for a lifetime. She will leave that to others. Her focus is all on tending to the medical needs of those in the refugee camp, particularly the families. She knows all too well, after all, what it's like to be a child who has lost your homeworld. It’s something she knows will stay with them for the rest of their lives, but she wants to help ease their transition as much as possible. This particular morning, she’s making rounds among the camps within the tent city, following up with patients who visited the field hospital, when a little boy comes running up to her. She recognizes him from the other day, when he came with his very pregnant mother to the hospital. His mandibles clicking anxiously, he tugs on her lab coat. She kneels to listen to him and finds out that his mother is in pain, though it’s hard to say, based on the boy’s limited knowledge, if she’s actually in labor or not. Beverly stands back up and turns to you.]
Do you have time? I could use some help.
phase one; art time
[Even when she’s not actually on medical duty, Beverly enjoys spending time with the Frysh, getting to know them and learning about their culture. In many ways, they remind her of the Betazoids in their love of the arts and music and in their peaceful, utopian mindset - and in the sudden disaster that struck their world, though of course, coming from very different causes.
At the moment, she’s sitting with that same little boy from earlier outside his family’s tent, where they’ve set up a sort of table using whatever scrap boards they could find lying around and are now playing a game. Or at least that’s what it looks like from afar. Look closer, however, and it becomes clear they’re actually telling one another stories. Contrasting with the makeshift nature of their furniture, the device they’re using with is sleekly elegant, with some sort of iridescent metal casing. From what Beverly can tell, it’s a kind of portable holographic projector, though not quite like any she’s seen before. With it, they can draw in mid-air, leaving trails of light in their wake to form animals and vehicles and flowers and all sorts of things. Beverly points at one of the animals.]
This one looks a little bit like an animal we have at home called a fox!
[The boy clacks his mandibles together thoughtfully before trying to repeat the word. The “x” sound seems to be causing a bit of trouble for him, but it’s easy enough to decipher what he’s trying to say.]
Here, I’ll draw you one!
[As she starts to draw, she notices someone watching them and waves them over.]
Beverly Crusher | OTA
[Perhaps the desire to explore once more will strike her again in the future, but for now, Beverly has had more than enough adventuring and danger for a lifetime. She will leave that to others. Her focus is all on tending to the medical needs of those in the refugee camp, particularly the families. She knows all too well, after all, what it's like to be a child who has lost your homeworld. It’s something she knows will stay with them for the rest of their lives, but she wants to help ease their transition as much as possible. This particular morning, she’s making rounds among the camps within the tent city, following up with patients who visited the field hospital, when a little boy comes running up to her. She recognizes him from the other day, when he came with his very pregnant mother to the hospital. His mandibles clicking anxiously, he tugs on her lab coat. She kneels to listen to him and finds out that his mother is in pain, though it’s hard to say, based on the boy’s limited knowledge, if she’s actually in labor or not. Beverly stands back up and turns to you.]
Do you have time? I could use some help.
phase one; art time
[Even when she’s not actually on medical duty, Beverly enjoys spending time with the Frysh, getting to know them and learning about their culture. In many ways, they remind her of the Betazoids in their love of the arts and music and in their peaceful, utopian mindset - and in the sudden disaster that struck their world, though of course, coming from very different causes.
At the moment, she’s sitting with that same little boy from earlier outside his family’s tent, where they’ve set up a sort of table using whatever scrap boards they could find lying around and are now playing a game. Or at least that’s what it looks like from afar. Look closer, however, and it becomes clear they’re actually telling one another stories. Contrasting with the makeshift nature of their furniture, the device they’re using with is sleekly elegant, with some sort of iridescent metal casing. From what Beverly can tell, it’s a kind of portable holographic projector, though not quite like any she’s seen before. With it, they can draw in mid-air, leaving trails of light in their wake to form animals and vehicles and flowers and all sorts of things. Beverly points at one of the animals.]
This one looks a little bit like an animal we have at home called a fox!
[The boy clacks his mandibles together thoughtfully before trying to repeat the word. The “x” sound seems to be causing a bit of trouble for him, but it’s easy enough to decipher what he’s trying to say.]
Here, I’ll draw you one!
[As she starts to draw, she notices someone watching them and waves them over.]
Would you like to try too?