ten_fwd_ooc | TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

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test drives

TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

Option 001. Alien planet, marketplace: So you're new to this whole space travel thing. The ship is cool and all, but there are hundreds of alien worlds out there. You want to explore. To see what the universe REALLY looks like.

Well, here's your chance! Your first stop is this lovely indoor marketplace, which looks kind of like a mall. There are stalls one after the other as far as the eye can see, and they sell all kinds of things: food, clothes, trinkets, animals, fabrics, jewelry, perfumes, books, etc etc. Some things look human, easy to recognize; other things look very alien. There are two levels, and constant chatter as people hawk their wares and discuss prices.

Do you want to explore? Poke at the weird shops? Buy a gift for a new friend? Flirt with someone at the food court? Maybe you see a pickpocket, and must run to the aid of the victim. Maybe there's some other villainy afoot. After all, a crowded marketplace is a good place for villains to lurk, causing trouble. Whether you're a hero or just an unassuming traveler, there proves to be some adventure for you on this planet.

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Option 002. Aboard the Enterprise, Ten Forward: You have no idea what just happened. One minute you were home, and now you're on a spaceship, in the middle of a crowded room. It looks like a bar. There are people eating and drinking, some in uniform, others not. Some are clearly aliens.

You've managed to land in Ten Forward a long bar with barstools and a bartender, tables sprinkled throughout, and the far wall is nothing but windows out to space. It looks like a nice lounge, low conversation making the room hum.

Better ask some questions and find out where you are, or just tap the closest person on the shoulder and try to make friends. The bar is open.

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Irian shakes her head slightly. "It was my choice to answer," she says. She pauses a moment, then adds, more softly, "But your words are well meant, and for that I thank you."

Her shoulders straighten, almost imperceptibly, though Spock with his Vulcan intuition will likely notice. Honor — that was the right word to use. Irian was raised in one of the old Rihannsu families, the ones who still believed honor and nobility were things to strive for, not to be thrown aside in the name of expediency, power or fear. Whether or not she has kept that honor over the course of her life is, as her people would say, for the Elements to decide — but she would like to believe she has some small scrap of it left. If nothing else, she certainly has her pride.

"And as for you," she says, changing the topic deftly — clearly the events of her own time period are a thing she no longer wishes to discuss, at least not so openly, "what are conditions in the galaxy like for you?" Irian has studied twenty-third century history, naturally, and she knows a little bit about the Enterprise and her five year mission — from an admittedly biased perspective — but it's different to speak with someone who has lived through those events. She settles back a little in her chair, appearing casual, though the look may be a little deceptive; she may have begun to grow used to this place, over the past several days, but she knows better than to let her guard drop too far.

Why is there a Wraith aboard this ship? And why is nobody but Elizabeth regarding it with the level of suspicion it deserves? Are none of them familiar with the species? Are they as unknowing as Elizabeth herself was when she first stepped through the gate onto Atlantis?

They must be, or a Wraith would not be free aboard their ship.

When the Wraith smiles at her, she gets a closer look at it and its markings and it's with surprise that she realizes she recognizes it.

That marking over the eye. It's distinctive, and she's seen it before.

"You were the Wraith Colonel Sheppard helped escape from Commander Kolya."

Those words make him pause, head tilting just slightly to the side as he looks at her. She knows him. That's somewhat unsettling, but at the same time strangely comforting. Something from home in the middle of nowhere.

There is something familiar about her voice. Because she speaks of it she brings his memory back to that time when he first came face to face with Sheppard. He's heard that voice before, first pleading to Kolya to not let him feed on the Colonel, and then shouting to make him stop.

His smile widens further as he searches his memory and finally recalls a name. "Doctor Weir, I think." He sounds absolutely delighted, though that might not be a good thing. "I heard rumors about your demise. I am pleased to see that they were wrong."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. "I've always found it beautiful."

It's hard to remember, sometimes, how far she's come in so few years. That just years ago, she had no idea that interstellar travel was within humanity's reach in her lifetime, let alone that the Milky Way and Pegasus galaxies were full of life, just out there for Earth to find.

She folds her arms across her front, hands cradling her elbows, a slight side to side movement of her head making her hair shake.

"There's just something about looking out at the stars that feels like adventure."

That was a day she would rather not remember.

To see anyone go through that is ... horrific. She's seen the aftermath of enough cullings, seen enough Wraith attacks, to know that, even though she does not often travel on offworld teams. But seeing it happen to strangers is nothing to seeing it happen to one of her dearest friends.

"That's correct," she says, her expression guarded. It rarely bodes well when a Wraith sounds pleased. "And I'm pleased to tell you that rumors of my demise are entirely unfounded."

As is clearly evident from her existence here. But the fact that they should exist at all, among the Wraith of all peoples, is ... strange.

"I would not have thought a Wraith would have been pleased at the well-being of anyone from Atlantis."

Though this Wraith ...

John had been cagey with some of the details of what had passed between them, and she'd let that be when she otherwise might not have, because of what had happened to him. But ... this Wraith may be different.

Simon looks at her with what starts out as polite interest and becomes curiosity.

"I'm afraid I've ... only ever bought them." His laugh is self-deprecating, a little bemused. Of course, he's been to markets a little like this on worlds in the Outer Rim since be joined Serenity, but his purchasing decisions have always been based on taste rather than on any understanding of the work itself.

"You ... actually sound like you know a lot."

He, on the other hand, is glad to recall that day, as it put an end to the years that came before it. Those he would be only too glad to forget.

He takes a couple of slow steps towards her, appearing by all means to be perfectly at ease. The wine glass is held by its stem in his clawed hand, and he watches the dark red liquid as he slowly swirls it around in the glass. "Oh, I have only rarely wished harm upon the people of your fair city." He won't say never. That would be such an obvious lie. "I dare say that you can't say the same in return, yes?" Still with that calm little smile, sly and amused, and not necessarily friendly.

Dukat took a sip of kanar, and put down his padd, the only link he currently had to Terok Nor, and he was determined to at least get some work done while he was forced to stay here.

"You're rather far away from Bajor." He looked her up and down, noting the uniform. "Whatever are you wearing?" Did he commission a costume party for the Bajorans and forgotten about it?

"Well, he wears his school uniform a lot. He's got brown hair styled sort of like yours, and he looks super grumpy most of the time. Oh, and he's way shorter than me." For not giving the most flattering description he sure looked proud of himself.

"Julian?"

Relief doesn't quite flood the Colonel when she sees him. Sure, it's good to see him, and it's a Hell of a lot better than being alone in the wrong time and place, but... From his tone, it doesn't sound like he's got the answers she wants to hear.

Not that it's going to stop her from asking.

"Where are we?" She asks, moving closer so as to lower her voice. "What ship is this, and how did we get here?"

He's got a few, anyway. He's not exactly being very cautious, because there's more than a few people here in the same situation. He's been careful not to give any information about their timeframe, of course, but where they are and how the got here is something everyone knows.

"We're on the Enterprise. Q is interfering and bringing people here from different timeframes and realities, I'm afraid as ever only he knows why he's doing it or when he'll stop--much less send any of us back. I've been here for a few weeks now."

Stahma, in turn, is a little startled by the look of him: neither human nor Votan, and that puts her on her guard. His appearance reminds her of a predator, and she watches him acutely for a moment, eyes wary, before she lowers her gaze and ducks her head slightly, putting on a properly submissive front even here in front of this stranger. Among her people, women — even highly ranked ones — are considered subservient to men, and she has been playing into that image so long that it's instinct to her to fall back on it in a situation like this one. It's an interesting contrast, in combination with her unmistakably dignified, noble carriage.

"I see," she says. She looks up at him, with her head still slightly lowered so that her eyes meet his from beneath her lashes. There's little coyness in her gaze; rather, the look is one of curiosity, and that mostly genuine this time. There's a growing sense of alarm in the back of her mind: if she cannot return to Defiance soon, what will happen to her husband, her son? The thought spurs on her next words, though her tone of voice is still soft, pleasant, measured. "It's... good to know I am not the only one in this predicament, though I would feel more at ease if I knew when I would be able to return home."

The last is almost, but not quite, a question phrased as a statement. If he doesn't even know where they are, then it's unlikely he'll be able to tell her when they can leave, either.

Edited 2014-07-27 18:02 (UTC)

True enough, he has no answers for her. Like her he has just recently arrived and is now looking for a way to leave, though he's sure it will prove tricky as he doesn't even know how he got there.

"If you find an answer, please, do let me know. Though in the mean time..." He moves slightly to the side, offering up a space at the bar. "Might I offer a drink?" Why not? She appears to be rather pleasant, something the old Wraith rarely finds. And, if he turns out to be trapped on board this ship, contacts and allies will no doubt be useful. He might as well get an early start gathering those.

Option 2

Brooklyn couldn't help but feel intimidated when he wound up on some ship. Reminded him of some kind of ploy in which Xantos was planning. The claws of his feet talons clicked across the metal flooring as he rushed through whatever hallways he could find. His wings were tucked in close to his body, his head lowered. But he blinked as he seemed to stumble upon what looked to be a bar.

His head bobbed up and down as he took note of the setting before he caught something out of the corner of his eye. The gargoyle's tail twitched upward in a curious S shape as he approached a nearby window. A heavy weight dropped to the pit of his stomach as he looked out the window.

Was this... was this space?

Brooklyn held either side of his head as his wings drooped behind him, the small talons on them looping around his neck in a cape-like manner.

"Goliath is gonna kill me." he muttered as he reached his hands up to peer out the window more intently.

Questions about the 'past' are no easier to answer than being asked about the future, but Spock accepts this reversal of roles as his due. The Commander seems slightly more relaxed now, at any rate, though he knows that the warrior is never far beneath the mask of the emissary.

"My role on board the Enterprise is chiefly scientific, and therefore exploring the galaxy is both a challenge and a privilege," he answers blandly. "As the only Vulcan serving with four hundred and twenty nine humans, I am also faced daily with a similar personal incongruity, but I have learned to adapt."

Henry recognised Tony from his comic books. But unlike with Steve, he didn't hold back. He took a deep breath and approached the man, trying not to look like a fanboy. And failing.

"Hi. I'm Henry. You're Tony Stark." He's grinning because this man is his favourite Avenger.

For a second, Jem feels like he is eleven years old and in England for the first time in his life. All the street names and people were change, foreign and confusing.

He doesn't understand more than the most basic words that this man says.

"Thank you," he says politely. "I am afraid I've never heard of the USS Enterprise. It seems very large to be a carriage. Where is it heading?"

For her sake, Jem would look for a cure or at least something to slow the illness a little longer. It would wrong to leave her alone in these strange new worlds. When it came down to it, her safety and happiness meant more than his own. It would waste precious hours to look for a cure but he could live with this decision. Whether it was madness or not time would tell.

"I will enjoy any story you pick, especially if you would me the honour of reading aloud," Jem said with a faint blush on his pale cheeks. He was not a great reader himself, but Will and Tessa did a remarkable job of bringing stories to life.

Sure, he's seen a kid like that wandering around here. Of course, he's shorter than you, Gentaro, you're a goddamn beanpole. "That kid's a Rider too?"

Alec pokes at his own food absently. "That's an interesting question and it all depends on your definition of multiversal travel and how reality works. It's a bit of a yes and a no," Alec says. "But for them and let's say for me currently, it's a no."

He doesn't mean to be weird here, but he doesn't so much always physically change realities as hop into alternate reality versions of himself, rather like Quantum Leap.

Which is weird and confusing and why he changes the subject. "So, who are you?"

"It's been many years since I last saw the stars like this."

The voice, a low, feminine alto, comes from somewhere behind and to the right of Elizabeth. When she turns to look, she'll see a very tall alien woman, all in white: white dress, white skin, long white hair with a decorative woven white veil over it. Though her shape and proportions are humanoid, there's no way she could ever be mistaken for human.

For the moment, Stahma's eyes are still on the view; she is honestly appreciative of it, and in a way it makes her miss home even more than usual. Not Defiance, but home, on Casti. Something in her heart twists at the unexpected feeling of homesickness, and she looks away from the window, choosing to offer the human woman nearby a brief, brilliant smile, inclining her head politely.

"Forgive me; I hope I'm not interrupting."

Tyr sat up directly, his feet already under him by the time Barbarella had reached him, but the thief was nowhere to be seen. With a light groan he settled back. The trail wasn't precisely cold, as he'd seen enough for a description, and one did not accept a contract to guard merchandise in a bazaar of this sort without checking into the underground element in the area and assuring oneself of a few underhanded informants. He could follow up on this at his leisure.

Since he was in no particular hurry, his attention turned to the fair young woman he'd collided with. And maybe he smirked at her.

"I might as you the same." Standing gingerly, Tyr offered her a hand to pull her up to her feet. "I believe I was the one to knock you over, after all."

And suddenly, there was a woman dressed in a niqab, her face and head completely covered except for two sharp brown eyes.

She turned around and around, disoriented by the sudden change in surroundings, looking at the bar and the people and was that space outside the windows?!

She crept towards the window, looking out at the vastness of the galaxy beyond, and the only thing she could think was...

"Nothing normal ever happens to me, does it?" Out of habit, she spoke in Punjabi, caught for a moment marveling at the world outside and wondering who the hell brought her here. Because if Loki got out of Asgard prison already, she would be pissed. She tapped the nearest person to her, not waiting for them to acknowledge her before saying, "Can you tell me where I am?" once again, in Punjabi. It only made sense to her that people would speak the same language as the people she was just talking to.

Steve strains to follow the direction McCoy lines up for him, looking through the throngs for -- got him, man in a hood, turning down the side street.

"I see him," he says, nodding once. He shoots McCoy a reassuring glance. Steve's good at taking orders, but better at doling out his own brand of justice. He'll catch him.

Without another word he pushes ahead, picking the quickest route to where the man disappeared. Which just so happens to take him barreling straight through a fruit stand and over a cart of fabrics, hanging a hard right once he reaches the corner. At least it clears a path for McCoy, now that people are backing up to stare after him.

"Dukat." His name is spat back at him as she turns to face him. As she moves closer, she lets out a sigh, almost like a mirthless laugh.

"I should have known you'd be here. Let me guess, this is some brilliant scheme of yours." She leans forward, placing her hands on the table as she shakes her head disdainfully. "But I don't see how shunting us through time and space is gonna curry you any favor with the Pah-Wraiths."

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TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

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I couldn't resist the chance to pull an Atlantis voice out of my hat :)

Dude. <3. Seriously. So many <3.

OH LOOK AN ANCIENT

I do not get many chances to Elizabeth!

talk of fiber work makes this mun extremely happy ;)

I'd be happy to provide every chance possible for that!

Re: Colonel Kira Nerys | DS9 | Ten Forward

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Brooklyn | Disney's Gargoyles

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sorry this took so long, boo

Bryce Banner (63!Bruce) | MCU | Option 2

No worries! ^__^

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