TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

#1

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.


2

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.

Comments

[yourhandsomefriend]

It's not that he wants to be here, at the bazaar. It's more that if he has to be here, in this universe, kept away from his desk, and his job, he might as well actually see the few options at his disposal.

He didn't mind being two hours behind the first groups beating the bricks to come down here. He didn't need anything. Even if he found himself studying more than one or two of these entirely alien wares inquisitively for longer than he planned. But he still didn't need them.



If, while stepping into a whole new section, his eyes find Miss Fisher across the way, engaged in some lively debate with one of those people across a booth, it might be impossible to quite detect whether it's surprise or an abject lack of surprise at finding her of all people there. He didn't exactly miss passing the few tables between here and there, but he didn't exactly see what was on them either. Even the clear of his throat is likely lost in the din.

But his hat still intact, even for the decided lack of the fashion among anyone else here, and tipped. Minutely. "Miss Fisher."

[queenofthenile]

Now that is a voice she knows, and well.

Very well, indeed.

Spinning on her heel, her face is luminous, a laugh at both eyes and mouth, delight sparkling out all over her. "Hello, Jack!"

She greets him as if he'd simply walked into her parlor, or as if she'd whirled her way onto a case he'd expected to keep to himself; or perhaps as if she hadn't seen him in far too long, what a tiresome wait. "What do you think?"

The second refers to a sheen of some sheer, deep sapphire blue fabric, shot through with silver threads, that she's draping up against herself, and if she hams it up a little, well! Clothes are meant to be modeled. "Trés chic, no? Madame Fleuri will be beside herself wondering where I could have picked it up."

[yourhandsomefriend]

She spins on her heel, larger than life, taking up that space left with careful propriety between them with a sweep of grandiose movement, dragging a ream of cloth right out from the hands of the unexpecting seller. Throwing him first laughter and smile, followed by a greeting and several words all connecting themselves like train cars no matter how little she actually needs a response before she's just tracking onward still to throw more out.

But he can follow them at least, and dutifully let his eyes track from the whirl of movement that is Miss Fisher to the cloth she's brandishing before herself. "It's quite..." Holds for a pause, looking at it. Though it is just a piece of a cloth to him. Deep blue, touched silver, and he knows it's a fools errand to even try to consider what might be made of it, given all of the other companion pieces of her wardrobe, each jockeying for more startling than the last.

Neither connoisseur, nor designer, he settled for closing his ellipses with honesty. "...colorful."

[queenofthenile]

"Why, the better to stand out, Inspector."

Not a trait Jack prefers for himself, although in his smartly-cut, perfectly inoffensive suit and his hat not quite tipped enough to be described as jaunty, standing with as much easy comfort as in his own office or leaning against the mantel of her parlor fireplace, she might say he's the more unusual, of the two of them. He's all browns and muted grays and sardonic, sad eyes, wearing what nearly every man his age and class and general appearance wears back home; he's still and calm while the bazaar jumbles itself noisily in vibrant, blurring motion around him, and there is absolutely no one here that's quite like him.

Or anything like. At all.

She begins rolling the fabric up, handing it back to the vendor with a quick glance that skates its way back to him as if she's sharing some joke he's sure to catch. "And you know how fond I am of that."