TEST DRIVE MEME #4 - The Arboretum/Ten Forward

[ten_fwd_mods]

Option 01: Aboard the Enterprise, The Arboretum: In exploring the Enterprise, you end up on Deck 17, section 21 alpha: the arboretum. Instantly upon entering you can tell this room is different from all the others. For one thing, you're now standing on grass. It's no illusion, no simulation; it's real grass, leading up to a small pond in the center of the room. All around you grows a variety of plant life, trees and bushes and hanging plants, flowers and herbs and even what one might consider weeds. The arboretum is, for all intents and purposes, a botanic garden, used both recreationally for passengers to relax and enjoy, and scientifically for research and study. After all, the scope of alien plant life is impressive, from the Cyprion cacti down to the Earth variety roses.

The room is well lit and large, with benches to rest on and small walking paths. Children are grouped off in one corner working on botany projects, while some passengers are seen kneeling in the dirt carefully tending to their garden patches. There are even windows along one wall, allowing for a view of space while the room itself gives the illusion of daylight. It's the perfect spot to relax, read a book, or grab a spare spade and dig in the dirt. Or perhaps you've been looking for the right moment to say hello to the passenger standing off by the venus flytraps.





Option 02: Aboard the Enterprise, Ten Forward: Or maybe not. You've just arrived, and you have no idea what just happened. One minute you were somewhere else, and now you're in what looks like a spacious, well-appointed bar. The hum of the crowd is inviting, and the drinks look invigorating. There are people eating and drinking, some in uniform, others not. Some are clearly aliens.

Try to find out why you're here, or catch a drink at the bar; there's always something happening here.

Comments

[more_than_revenge]

"Even for me," he agrees.

There's a moment of amusement in his eyes.

Not because he's taken in by her, but because he appreciates the game she's playing. He should; there was a time when he was the master of that exact game, moving in the circles Bruce Wayne was born for, smiling, laughing, joking, while all the time feeling little but disdain for the pretense of it all.

"Of course, I was never planning to wear them."

Selina Kyle is certainly not trying all that hard not to show her disdain. If he were being honest, which he never is, not with this smile and this suit and this invisible mask on, he'd share that disdain.

But here, now, for her, he is that man she's sneering at.

In fact, her lack of pretense is almost refreshing.

Almost.

In truth, he doesn't yet know what he makes of where they are. He's been watching, assessing, calculating, since the moment he arrived, and he has no clue how or why he's found himself on what appears to be a bar, on a spaceship.

It sets every one of his highly-trained if somewhat out of practice instincts on edge.

"It's a bar," he says. "I'm assuming, if I need to, I can get a drink."

He doubts she's going to buy his smile or his words. She's too good at this game. But that doesn't mean he's going to let her win that easily.

"What more do I need to know?"

[cleanslates]

"These beauties are far too lovely to be hidden away in a crackably-uncrackable safe, Mr Wayne," she says, her voice nearly a purr.

And if she'd revealed any emotion on her face besides a decidedly bland amusement at everything, well, that's just her bitterness getting the better of her and she will need to control it a little better. There's just something about high society that really grates on her nerves.

She might even call it injustice. But then she can't exactly say she's got much of a moral compass to determine something like that beyond how it might personally benefit her.

Nevertheless, she allows Bruce Wayne to continue his charade of acting like he isn't assessing ever single detail in this space-bar. She'll humour him, even, if it suits her. He acts like a dumb block of wood, but there's more to him there - which is ... interesting at best, annoying at worst. He's not like the rest of his privileged class, is he. She can see it in the unsaid words, the too-controlled tics in his movements, the darkness that flickers in his eyes when he's not playing someone. She notices because she does it too. She'd be a fool to underestimate him. She knows that.

There's a small nod of her head, eyes following his, her mouth set into one of her coy smiles.

"Now, that is the question, isn't it?"

[more_than_revenge]

"Mmm." He doesn't bother to hide the fakeness of his smile. His eyes are cold, narrowing.

Were he a different man, were they a different set of pearls he's wearing, he'd be inclined to agree with her. She's a very attractive woman, and she knows it, and they are a lovely set of pearls. But they were his mother's, and that means they're off-limits.

Not that there's anything much he can do about it. Not here. Not now. Not unless she's foolish enough to step close to him so he can make a physical move.

He raises one eyebrow at her. This time, the curve of his smile is thin, but ... perhaps more genuine, a hint of real amusement in it.

"And you think you have the answers."