TEST DRIVE #1 - Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

You know how you were standing there, back in your home world, just minding your own business?

Time to forget all about that.

Instead of doing whatever the heck you were just doing, you're standing in the middle of this very stylish, sedate barroom. Happily, you're not alone there - in fact you're surrounded by people who seem to be as confused as you are...and some of them look a little, well unusual

Now would be a great time to do....well, something. Ask some questions of the person nearest you, throw a fit, stage a coup....maybe do a little exploring? No matter what you do, you're going to be here for a very long time.

For others might call it the USS Enterprise, but for the foreseeable future, you'll be calling it home.

[OOC: this test drive's open until the next app period.]

Comments

[i_got_vision]

Miss Mireille may be a little disappointed at the lack of a concert--at least when she gets done being confused by the sudden change of location--but she'll be all right. There'll be other concerts.

"Well, I got a harmonica," he says. "And I bet I can play it better than that fella from Vienna can play the harmonica, even if I can't play the same Beethoven he was gonna do. So there you go. We get a concert anyway."

But he'll refrain from bothering the other folks nearby with his harmonica for now, because he has noticed something. He knows a bar when he sees one. Observant, is Butch Cassidy.

"After some drinks, though. I wonder if they got Old Taylor."

[whatyergoodat]

"You play the harmonica?"

He's not totally clear on Beethoven, either, although it sounds familiar -- could be it's a kind of piano, though he thinks it's probably not -- but Butch says it like he says everything else, like Sundance oughta know, just like that, and Sundance can always ask him later.

For now, though, he's relieved to have a task in sight, even if it's nearly as unsettling to think of trying to drink something here as it is to pay too much attention to the vast emptiness out the window, speckled with all those millions of stars. Butch is always good for that. Perspective. Nothing ever seems to trip him up completely.

Still, Sundance casts a pessimistic eye over the shining bar, the glass bottles behind it filled with strange, colorful liquids. "I doubt it."

[i_got_vision]

In fairness, Butch isn't all that clear on Beethoven either. Mireille had seen a sign advertising the concert and she recognized the piece and wanted to go, and he figured he could refrain from swearing or spitting on floors for a couple hours to escort her.

"Oh, yeah, I've been playing since I was a kid. If you give folks a choice between my harmonica playing and my singing, they almost all pick the harmonica. It's better for dancing to, anyway."

And it's cheap and it's portable. Not like a piano.

"...I hope our money's good here."

[whatyergoodat]

Sundance would never take that bet, but then, Butch is a rotten gambler.

He's mostly mulling over this newest information, while Butch waxes thoughtful about funds and whether or not they can get used here, until Sundance gives him a mildly surprised look.

He hadn't considered their money might be no good here, He hadn't considered Butch would have money, seeing as it's been kind of a stretch since their last job.

[i_got_vision]

He's got some money.

Mostly because escorting a lady around doesn't leave a lot of time for gambling. If not for her, he wouldn't even have the five dollars he's got in his pocket. He wanted to get nice seats at the concert.

And now it may be the only money he's got here, for however long they're here, wherever this place is, and if it even counts as money here. Good thing he's not afraid of hard work. He may prefer easier work, but he's not afraid.

"Well, it might not be. This doesn't look like any place I've ever been, and melting pot or not, some of these folks don't exactly look... American."

He'd say human, but that might be rude.

[whatyergoodat]

He's not worried about the money. They're in a cantina of some kind, and a fellow trying hard enough can always find someone dumber, slower, or worse at cards to take, if he needs to. Harder to do with no escape route, but not impossible. Card winning's are practically legitimate.

His eyebrows crawl together, and he shrugs.

No point in worrying about it until they try.

[i_got_vision]

And Butch can always turn his money over to someone who can actually gamble, and trust him to make the most of what they've got.

Well, everybody's got their strong suits. Some people are good at being friendly. Some people are good at cards and being intimidating. A man should know what he's good at, and maybe work on getting better at the things he's not so good at, but accept it if practicing doesn't help.

Or if it just doesn't suit his temperament.

"Bourbon, then?" he asks. "If they got it. I'm not too sure about that blue stuff there."

[whatyergoodat]

Sundance gives it some deep thought, chin sinking down as he considers the bar top, lips pursing, before he nods, short and sharp. "Bourbon. If they have it. If they have any that's good."

It's as decisive as the way he draws or deals -- when a man makes a decision, it's only right he make it, and stick with it, without a whole lot of messing around, worrying about this and that. If they have good bourbon, he'll drink it. If they don't, he'll find something else.

Maybe not that blue stuff, though.