<strong>Day 1</strong><br/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name: </strong></td><td> Lieutenant Shrass Athrun</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Galley</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Sophie Doortje</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Sharing embarrassing academy stories.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Tagging:</strong> </td><td>Sophie </td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/>Shrass put himself into their work with good cheer, one antenna usually keeping towards her.   He grinned at the invitation, “I’ve been off shift since we met, and I’d like that very much.”  He chuckled at a memory.  “When we get to the galley I’ll tell you a story.”<br/><br/>In the galley, the slender blue man ordered something called ‘Vrasstis.’  “And pour the ensing a little cup too.”<br/><br/>He offered to carry her drink to the table, then sat across form her and put his drink between them.  It was creamy, with a twirl of something crimson.  “The crimson swirl is Vra, a popular recreational stimulant, like coffee.  It comes from a cane, and tastes somewhat similar to a spiced liquor.  It actually can be fermented, but the normal flavor is apparently quite similar to an earth drink called cinnamon schnapps.  The creamy drink is basically a sweetened yogurt, not unlike kefir.”<br/><br/>He stirred it a few times then took a sip.  “Mmm…  It’s still fresh.  I hope the galley has enough to last ‘til we next reach civilized ports.”  He took another sip and sat the glass back down.<br/><br/>“My second year at the academy, we had a brief vacation at mid winter.  My study group invited me to party, with trappings from a variety of traditional religious festivals like evergreen boughs, red and white striped candies, and a small model of a barn depicting the birth of a prophet.<br/><br/>“You can imagine my surprise at finding a punch bowl full of Vrasstis.  I hadn’t had any in months, and had some studying to do after the party, so I drank several cups, enjoying the local touches.<br/><br/>“Now, Andorians respond to alcohol about like most people, but our circulatory system is such that it tends to sneak up on us.   About three hours into the party, I found myself weaving around the living room, singing slurred war songs in Andorian Standard and cheering everything that happened in Japanese.  You can imagine the hard time I got the next morning for mistaking hard eggnog with cinnamon schnapps for a latte”<br/>