poly_chromatic | action (and others)

Entry tags:

star trek xi - pavel chekov

action (and others)

[Action at the House // Open to Uhura]

[Many strange things have happened to Chekov during his time in the City. Waking up as a female, however, is a novelty, and he reacts by racing to Uhura's room (thank goodness for sleepwear with give). His female body is five-foot nothing and the shoulder-length curls are sticking up every which-way.]

Uhura? What do I do?

[Not the cleverest of questions, but he's surprised, his clothes are too tight in some places and too large in others, and it only makes sense to consult the closest woman.]

[Private Video // Filtered to Lucy]

[Do you know this curly-haired girl, Lucy? Hint: she's usually your boyfriend. Chekov doesn't appear overly upset about this curse.]

Lucy, this is Pavel. I may need more advice regarding this curse than Uhura will be willing to provide.

[Action // Open]

[After acquiring appropriate attire and getting over the initial surprise of waking up with a... ah, different body, Chekov spends the weekend playing a game of let's-see-who-can-recognize-me with acquaintances (when he's not at work, of course, as a gender swap is no excuse to call in sick).

He might be seven inches shorter and curvier than normal, but that accent is all too easy to identify.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As he's lucky enough not to be cursed today-- not seventeen, or an animal, or carrying his heart, or any other ridiculous thing-- Isaak is going about his business as usual, sitting out at one of his preferred cafes and drinking coffee as he catches up with the usual chaos of the Network.

He won't look twice at passing girls, unfortunately. Sorry, Pavel, don't take it personally.]

[Fortunately, Pavel is keeping an eye out for friends. He has to be honest with himself: he likes the way he looks now that Uhura has shown him how to apply very basic makeup and Lucy helped him shop for appropriate attire. (Some may mistake the enthusiasm with which Chekov is approaching this curse indicates no small amount of sexual confusion. In actuality, he's just comfortable with himself and not inclined to do things halfway.

Pavel stops at Isaak's table and flashes him a smile. gesturing to an empty seat across from Isaak.]

Do you mind if I sit here?

[Isaak looks up, an eyebrow faintly arched because it's not like there aren't other seats available. The face isn't familiar and-- as Chekov knows-- he's not so easily charmed by a pretty girl, but the accent's enough at least to catch his attention.]

If you like,

[he answers easily, with a loose toss of his hand toward the unoccupied chair. He's not at his friendliest, but he's willing to wait out her ulterior motives.]

Thank you.

[He sits, very pleased that Isaak doesn't know who he is. So far, everyone has guessed correctly based solely on his accent. It's rather narrow-minded of them, assuming that every short, curly-haired Russian is Chekov.

Pavel wants to see how long he can fool Isaak, but it occurs to him that he doesn't know how to start a conversation without sounding too much like himself.]

What are you doing?

[Isaak has the disadvantage of being less familiar with the City's regular batch of monthly inconveniences; he's not yet used to thinking of these as likely possibilities. Probabilities.

But he's no fool, and he has to assume a Russian girl sitting with him isn't a matter of coincidence. The fact that she's unfamiliar doesn't mean anything; the City's large enough to account for that, but presumably she knows at least a bit about him. And of course, with their Network, that means very little as well.]

Nothing in particular,

[he answers, giving her an appraising look over the edge of his sunglasses. He switches to Russian for his next question, for no particular reason but curiosity.]

Have we met?

Nothing?

[In response to that question, Pavel rests his chin on interlaced fingers and tries to imitate the look that Lucy gives him when she's trying to distract him from something by being cute.]

Yes, once or twice. You don't remember me?

[Come now, Pavel, you ought to know better. That look might have a better shot of working were he his usual self, though even then it's exceedingly doubtful. He's far too good, and far too young.

Still, that's a bit of a tell. He smiles slightly.]

You're cursed.

[Which narrows things down a bit.]

Pavel Andreievich? [He sips his coffee. It's the best guess, given how young she-- he?-- is. And once the thought occurs, he thinks, he can see the resemblance.] Or should I say Andreyevna?

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