TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward

[ten_fwd_mods]

Option 01. Ten Forward: The first thing you see is a bar. A large, lively bar filled with many different faces and many different smells, sights and sounds. This is Ten Forward, the Enterprise's off-duty lounge; feel free to get acquainted with your fellow travelers and try to find somebody who's in charge: this is your new home now, after all...





Option 02. The Bridge: Well, aren't you a lucky duck? You've found yourself in hallowed quarters. Wherever you were before, you're not there anymore. Now you're in a room that could be some kind of command center or control room; there's a captain's chair flanked by seats for his chief officers, computer panels and stations at each interior wall, and before you a broad viewscreen that shows the wide expanse of space rushing towards you. Have you ever wanted to be a starship captain for a day? Well, here's your chance. Feel free to roam around, but try not to touch anything shiny.


[OOC: The Bridge isn't usually available for in-game posts, so if you've ever wanted to play there, here's your chance!]

Comments

[espigeonage]

Julien smiles faintly. "There are a lot of humans and animals who've been... changing, sometimes getting weird powers. We're all linked to stranger people somewhere far away, and now we're taking on their traits. People like that are called the numbered." It's more complicated than that. For one, most people accept that they are the reincarnations of these stranger people.

"But I guess you're not one. And you probably don't have any more of an idea about this place than I do." He scans the bridge again, the bird eyelids showing in the corners of his eyes. "It's like something out of TV. Too bad I was never big on science fiction."

[vainfeathers]

Well, the first part of that made enough sense, he supposed. But then you start talking about TV and science fiction and completely lose him, who has no idea of any of the concepts that make up those phrases. Maybe fiction, peripherally, though he's never had much use for it. All the stories he's heard are based in reality.

He simply shakes his head again, making a low chirruping sound before tilting his head to signify that he has not the foggiest idea what's going on. Brilliant as he is, he's a little limited by being completely out of his timeframe as well as off his world.

[espigeonage]

"Heh. Sorry, that's what it looks like! Command chairs and controls I really don't want to fiddle with 'cause that would probably kill us all." He's content to not explain science fiction to a bird, but he can elaborate a bit. "I'm going to look for more people. Do you want to come with me?"

He's not sure if he's offering a perch. Julien's arms are engulfed by wings, and his shoulders broad but feathered.

[vainfeathers]

Diaval's feathers fluff in alarm. That he certainly understood, and he sidles away from the controls, so he's sitting on bare paneled wood instead, shooting a distrustful look back at the shiny buttons. He's just escaped being skewered by a load of knights not all that long ago, and he's perfectly content to keep himself in one piece, thank you very much. He's not sure how these simple panels could kill anyone, but he'd rather avoid it.

The air is dead here, to fly was surely going to be a terrible chore. Oh, what he wouldn't give for longer legs right now. He hadn't realized how convenient it had been to be able to shift back and forth. Granted, not at his own whim, which was the problem at the moment.

He nods in response to the question. Don't leave him alone with strange shiny buttons that will cause things to explode, please.

[espigeonage]

All right, the raven's alarm is kinda cute. Julien dips his head to hide a smile. "Okay. Uh... You can try my shoulder if you're careful with your beak."

His shoulder really probably is the best option. Under the feathers it's basically human-shaped.

The thought occurs to him and he has to ask "Can you read or write?"

[vainfeathers]

He is very delicate and careful, thanks. He chirrups in thanks, and takes off with a few flaps. He's well used to landing on shoulders and keeping his toes from digging in--his mistress could have very mercurial moods, and so he did his best to be careful when resting there.

He clicks his beak and shakes his head. He's never had chance nor reason to learn, and indeed who would teach him?

[espigeonage]

Julien tenses a bit at the weight of the raven, and makes himself relax, trying to ignore the large beak near his face.

"Oh well! That's too bad." Since he talks using a bird's syrinx and has hollow bones and air sacs, his speech makes his chest vibrate. He also breathes the way birds do, slowly, ribcage flexing. "All right, let's get out of here."

Despite unusual proportions, he's graceful and his stride is very long. "By the way, I'm Julien. It's easier to say... uh... Yuu-yeh."

[vainfeathers]

He's not going to do anything with it, promise. He's very gentle, except for when he has to be.

He really can't avoid it gaping open though when he tries to respond in kind. "Diaval," he tries his best to say--it comes out without the 'a' sound, much to his annoyance. This was much harder than it seemed.

His feathers fluff slightly, and he tries again. "Diaval." Much better.

[espigeonage]

"Diaval? Hi, nice to meet you." It's kind of funny how in a couple of years, sentient animals have stopped seeming strange to him.

Outside of the bridge, Julien's mun has never seen Star Trek and has no idea what he'd find, so... npcs walking around with purpose. Julien tenses again, his body language changing quickly. He slumps, he holds his wings closer to his body, his expression becomes more uncertain and concerned. It's part of a routine he goes through to try and seem less threatening, coming from a world where he's seen as scary and all. Here he gets a few startled or evaluatory looks, but no one seems afraid or inclined to stop and gawk. Julien comes to a halt, genuinely confused.

[vainfeathers]

Diaval has very rarely seen so many humans in one place--they're odd-looking too, their clothing all of a like, not at all similar to the courtly fashion he'd observed while spying on King Stefan's palace. Not even similar to Aurora's and her useless pixie-turned-human aunties.

And some of them looked closer to Fae than human, skin in a wide array of colors and patterns, ridges and extra limbs everywhere. No magic that he could discern, though, and not nearly as outlandish as any of the Fair Folk.

So not Fae, not Human. Something else. He doesn't know what, but something.

He warbles under his breath, head turning to fix this and that with one eye, in order to see it in better detail. But if Julien has no idea what's going on, Diaval has even less of one.

[espigeonage]

Julien is not getting a whole lot of interest, at least compared to back home where his first time in a new place has people treating him like a celebrity or a monster, or both. There's more interest directed at the raven on his shoulder, and that's passing curiosity too. Sure, a lot of these people don't look entirely human, but they're not as removed from it as he is.

Actually... "Rubber forehead aliens," he mutters. "Like humans in makeup, but - the veins." His eyesight is very good. Julien shakes his head hard enough to whap Diaval with some of the blue-dyed feathers serving him for hair.

[vainfeathers]

Diaval lets out a short caw--he's still up here, you know. Careful. And then he smooths the 'hair' back down as he's done for Aurora before, noting that the texture was closer to his own feathers than the silk of human hair.

Curious, but he supposes he should be too surprised, what with Julien's wings and all.

You just keep musing, he still has not the foggiest what you're talking about.

[espigeonage]

He grunts. "Sorry." Being preened is... kind of nice.

"People seem pretty busy. What do you think? All right, my shoulders are choices. Stop one to question?" He raises the shoulder Diaval's on slightly, then relaxes it. "Or get going and try to see things for ourselves?" Now he shrugs the other shoulder, with less care.

[vainfeathers]

There were always feathers that were hard to reach on one's own. Far more comfortable, and easier besides, to have someone else attend to them for you. That was what an unkindness was for.

As accommodations went, the idea of answering questions with a grip on a shoulder was a decent one. And the idea of seeing what they could see on their own was a tempting one--he'd been watching from the shadows for quite some time now, and it was a difficult habit to break. But he hasn't noted anyone being particularly fearful or suspicious of the two of them--not that humans ever took him for being more than a simple raven--so he didn't think they had much to lose by asking.

He gently tightens his claws on the shoulder he's currently sitting on.

[espigeonage]

Without a proper beak or a neck much different from human, Julien can't give his feathers the proper attention. He 'preens' using clips. At least he's not particularly raggedy.

"Okay. Um - excuse me!" He puts a hopeful smile on and steps forward to intercept someone who looks human enough. The man's eyes widen and he has to tilt his head back. "We're basically lost and have no idea what's going on. Can you tell us where we are?"

[vainfeathers]

Now that simply shall not stand. Everyone should have their wings shining and ready to fly. He'll have to work on that later. It's a decent enough way to thank Julien for being such a help--he'd likely still be trapped behind those doors, otherwise.

The ensign looks between the strange teenager and the massive bird sitting calmly on his shoulder, then back behind him to the door they came from.

"Oh great, now he's making people show up on the bridge...you're on the Federation starship Enterprise. It's...a long story. Probably. Where are you from?"

(Despite being human himself, he doesn't want to assume Earth...)

[espigeonage]

That could be difficult! Julien's biggest feathers are three or four feet long. Some are prehensile, somehow. His body is confusing.

"The Enterprise? Really?" Julien stares at the ensign, but since it's not looking like a joke he shifts on his clawed feet and moves on. He can worry about it later. "My friend here is from Moors-" wherever that is"-and I'm from Locke. Locke City, New Jersey. Um... in the United States of America." The city of Locke exists only in his home universe, not that he'd have any way of knowing that.