ten_fwd_mods: (Enterprise-D)
Ten Forward RPG mod account ([personal profile] ten_fwd_mods) wrote in [community profile] ten_fwd_ooc2014-11-16 07:46 am
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TEST DRIVE #6 - The Bridge and Ten Forward



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!]
vainfeathers: (Default)

[personal profile] vainfeathers 2014-11-27 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
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: (🌊You have to swim)

[personal profile] espigeonage 2014-11-27 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
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: (of the countenance it wore)

[personal profile] vainfeathers 2014-11-27 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
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: (☼When you're not so sure you'll survive)

[personal profile] espigeonage 2014-11-27 07:54 am (UTC)(link)
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: (by the grave and stern decorum)

[personal profile] vainfeathers 2014-11-27 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
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: (🎇I swim)

[personal profile] espigeonage 2014-11-27 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
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: (Default)

[personal profile] vainfeathers 2014-11-27 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)
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: (🌀just to pay the man)

[personal profile] espigeonage 2014-11-27 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
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.