ten_fwd_ooc | TEST DRIVE #2 - The Holodeck/Ten Forward

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test drives

TEST DRIVE #2 - The Holodeck/Ten Forward

Where were you a minute ago? Well, you aren't there anymore. Instead, you're standing in a very large, dark room lined with yellow. There are doors at either end of it.

Here's where things get a little choose your own adventure-y. You could:

1: Approach a console filled with buttons, located a few feet away. Press one, and it'll let you out of the room. Travel down a long hallway and you'll be in Ten Forward, the Enterprises' entertainment lounge. Have a drink, mingle and try to figure out why you're here.

OR

2: Maybe you just muttered some vague request under your breath. Maybe you wished aloud you were somewhere else. Or for help? If you did, might be in a fire station. Muttered something about killing whoever dumped you here? Surprise - you're in a slasher movie!

Though they're confusing, these visions feel about as real as they can be. And guess what - other people can experience those fantasies with you, as if they too were really there. How ever will you escape? Or do you want to?

[OOC: Welcome to the Holodeck! If you choose this option, whatever your character chooses to say out loud will cause a virtual reality program to load and play. While your character feels as if what they're experiencing and seeing is quite real, they're purely living through the latest and best in what he Enterprise has to offer in entertainment. Make sure to detail what your character's fantasy is, so that those threading with them will know how to react.

Open til next month's test drive!]

Threaded | Flat

Billy's fantasy is very simple: to float in zero gravity, as he'd always pictured as a child. Fortunately, that's easy enough to pull off, so there's one Billy drifting in the air of a room with a blue-black 'sky'. Pinpricks of light like distant stars light the way, shining just brightly enough that you can anyone inside without squinting.

Some of the bigger 'stars' are actually stationary lights---soft, cool to the touch, and perfect for bouncing off to navigate this free-floating space. He's loosely holding onto one with his hand, floating there with an expression of pure delight. "Whoa, prodigious!"

Edited 2014-05-25 02:15 (UTC)

He had been in a field full of flowers and instead of returning home shortly after, he ended up in this room. "What?"

A black room with yellow lines was not what he imagined home was like. His memories were all but fully returned, but what he expected was Fynn. Or maybe even Salamand, even if that was no longer his home since he was a child. "Where am I?"

Edited 2014-05-25 02:33 (UTC)

Noriko is not, shockingly, unfamiliar with hard-light-rooms. They have one in the school, and though this one is unfamiliar she generally knows to give nothing that sounds like a program command while she's in there.

It's a relatively quick jaunt to the lounge, though--but she's okay with a lounge, she can handle a bar place way better than she can handle being on a spaceship--and there is where she's sitting, colorful but confused as she squeezes a ball of cleaning putty between her metal-covered hands.

Nori's just gonna...wait here until she can figure out what else to do.

Edited 2014-05-25 03:00 (UTC)

Squall wandered over to the lounge and sat heavily in one of the free seats at the bar. He was disoriented, though he was at least a practiced hand at pretending to know exactly what was going on. Someone asked him what he wanted to drink; he muttered something noncommittal and received something he hoped wasn't alcoholic.

It was green. Squall took a sip, then decided he didn't like it.

Instead, he took a look around the room, hoping for something to clue him in on what was going on. Or at least figure out how to blend in better, because for now Squall looked like exactly what he was: a moody teenager dressed in an inappropriately warm fur-lined jacket and also like five belts or something.

[01]

Ten Forward is in for a really special treat this evening. Things may have been quiet, even pleasant, but that's probably going to change. An older woman in a very loud dress is entering the lounge with a flourish of her arms, as if expecting the other patrons to jump from their seats and welcome her. Despite the broad smile on her face, she's actually a little annoyed... And possibly plotting something.

Jean Luc's been giving her the slip for days, and she knows it, even if she won't admit it. But she's planning to corner him here... Or find someone even more handsome to set her sights on maybe... So, if you're a man between the ages of 20 and 60, get ready, because she's approaching you.

[02]

"Oh Mr. Woof!"

The Betazed ambassador had been following the ship's security chief around, grilling him about the Captain's whereabouts. But, he'd managed to get away somehow, and she had taken a seriously wrong turn... Into the holodeck.

The computer, in its infinite wisdom, has managed to translate her mispronunciation, and play one of Worf's programs. She might be a little more worried if she happened to notice the two Klingon warriors charging at her from behind, their weapons raised high. She doesn't though.

It's been a long day. A long few days. While the crew adjusts to this newest predicament, and the number of new people arriving on the Enterprise continues to grow. The situation itself taking its toll in dozens of different ways, displayed out from the Senior Staff, at work on the many parts of the problem, down to the appointments she just finished with, whom had the limited information of present circumstances.

A situation never far from her mind, given the discordant disharmony of emotions localized to certain parts of the ship. Growing at times, but remaining a fixed mass of wary fear, deep confusion, and shifting anxiety of those who had been brought by Q to this place against their will.

It's not without purpose that Deanna finds herself striding through the doors of Ten Forward.

She could use a meal, and she's certain the people there could use a friendly face.

This.

...this.

What.

There's a lot of confusion here, and it's centered around this blonde woman, who has no idea what any of this is. She's about two seconds from drawing her sword and hitting things just to see what happens.

Help a lady out?

"Hello? Is there anyone around who could help me get back to the TARDIS?"

Rose Tyler is used to weird. Traveling around with the Doctor and you're bound to come across weird in all its shapes, sizes and forms. Most of it is extraordinary. Some of it is dangerous and even a bit scary.

This room makes her a little uneasy but she manages to keep her composure.

... Even when the familiar humming of the TARDIS's engines begins to fill her ears, quickly followed by those very mechanisms visualizing before her eyes: the central command, the ramps, the yellow glow from the lights and green from the centre.

"... what?" She reaches out for one of the levers, fingers resting on cold metal. "This isn't real, is it?"

But it feels real.

Lt. Cdr. Terzen T'Karr, the half-Betazoid, half-Trill Tactical and Comms officer of the USS Pathfinder was at a bit of a loss.

It had been about a week since he found himself in Ten Forward on board the USS Enterprise, and attempting to return to his ship had proven difficult. The Enterprise's main computer recognised him, his commission, and the fact the Pathfinder exists, but all attempts to raise the Miranda-class vessel on Subspace proved ineffectual.

So, Terzen was sat at one of the Science consoles on the Bridge, with permission, trying to make sense of it all.

"Computer," An acknowledging beep. "Confirm last location of the USS Pathfinder, Registry NCC-45709."

"USS Pathfinder last located in sector 279 after a routine check-in at Starbase 742."

"Open a communciation channel on subspace to Starbase 742." A warning bleep. "Unable to comply. Subspace traffic to Starbase 742 is blocked." A sigh. "Source?" "Unknown."

Terzen sighs, putting his face in his hands. "It's like finding a needle in a haystack..."

Gaila is not getting drunk.

She'd really, really, really like to. But this is a strange ship and she only knows two people, and she is miserable enough to do something really stupid.

So she's not getting drunk.

Instead, she's found herself a table and is sipping some hot chocolate as she tries to catch up on the last century or whatever of coding theory. If she's stuck in the future with no way of returning (given her ship was blown up), she might as well see if she can still have something of a career.

Spiced hot chocolate, it should be said. Very spiced. Loaded up with enough chilli to turn the colour slightly red. Orion tastebuds can be somewhat baffling.

[ooc: Note! Despite Gaila being Orion and pheromone-y, as she's not trying to seduce anyone, all that's really noticeable is a distinctive - but not unpleasant - smell and a sense of charisma.]

Edited 2014-05-26 00:49 (UTC)

It's not particularly enjoyable to be on the other side of a kidnapping for a change.

Especially when whoever is responsible didn't even do a song about it--that's not how these things are supposed to work. There are rules to follow. Traditions. Someone clearly needs to be taught some style.

Still, it's nice to get away from his goblins for a while. They need to be told when to laugh at his jokes. They're not the brightest.

So here's a goblin king, performing an epic lounge in Ten Forward.

This isn't what he was expecting.

Of course, Jonas has learned from all the things he's read and seen over the past few months that what you're expecting isn't always what you get, but he's sure this isn't where he was meant to be. He's never seen this room before. Sure, there are places on the base he's never been, but this black and yellow room shouldn't have been behind that door.

Nor should that corridor, and most certainly, there shouldn't have been this big room full of people he's never seen before, not one of them wearing any of the colours of uniform he's used to seeing.

Still, as he walks into the lounge, Jonas has a grin on his face.

Wherever it is, this place is -- what's the word? -- amazing.

He'd taken up residence in one of the farthest corners, lanky frame leaning against the wall while watching out the window at the stars around them. One hand is holding an unlit cigarette while a can of Kirin beer dangles dangerously from the other. Outwardly he's quite calm but inside is quite a different story. Soubi couldn't find Ritsuka at all and every moment he was becoming more unsettled even though not a single hint of that showed in his expression. Soubi was too well taught for something like that in front of strangers.

And to make matters worse he'd been firmly told not to smoke in the lounge. No Ritsuka, no nicotine, beer was the only comfort it seemed. At least these 'replicator' things could make a proper 21st century cheep Japanese beer.

(OOC Warnings: mentions of alcohol, abuse and sexual situations.)

Natsuo was trying to make the stupid computer give him something besides food. Like a chain saw. Or a razor blade. Something fun. If he was going to be kidnapped without Youji, which was horrible enough, the least they could do is give him entertainment.

"Hey! You stupid, fugly piece of crap machinery!" And then the cat eared(and tailed), foul mouthed twelve year old kicked the replicator. Maybe he could set it on fire. Fires were kind of fun.

What was with everyone here. They were all pervy adults. Even the kids didn't have ears! Maybe they were all abused or something. Like Soubi. Or them! He still couldn't believe that Nagisa abused them. It was wonderful!

Edited (Natsuo's posts always require warnings.) 2014-05-27 00:19 (UTC)

Need some help understanding the holodeck? Your distinguished captain has joined you this evening, in dire need of a little rest and relaxation. He has dressed for the part he wishes to play, an old favorite standby for when he really needs to take his mind off things.

"Computer," he says, approaching the wall panel.

It chirps in response. "Program desired location?"

"Earth, United States, San Francisco, California." "Time period?" "1941, A.D." "File or access code?" "File Dixon Hill, private detective." Another chirp. "Enter when ready."

He enters the room, trench coat flapping behind him, fedora pulled down at a jaunty angle. He's in a suit, a fine suit, and there is an ever-rare smile on his face. The sights and sounds of 1941 fill the room, the streets of San Francisco alive and bustling. Street cars, automobiles, newspaper vendors, food carts; you name it, it's there. It all looks, sounds, and smells completely real.

Are you ready for an adventure? Perhaps you're already there.

[ooc: I couldn't resist pulling out Captain Picard's favorite program. Please, feel free to jump in, ask him questions, assume the roll of his plucky sidekick, whatever strikes your fancy!]

Are you new to the Enterprise? Have you suddenly found yourself here, in a strange barroom surrounded by strange people? No doubt you would like some answers, and Guinan just so happens to have some.

She looks like she's in her late thirties, but her eyes are deep and dark and endless, and she often smiles as if she has a secret. As a matter of fact, she has thousands.

Tonight, however, she's simply tending the bar. She's approachable, with an air about her that puts most at ease. Come, let her get you a drink. She'll gladly listen to all your problems.

[ooc: Looking for a Star Trek primer? Guinan's your girl. She can help you get a lay of the land, figure out what's going on and how everything works, and assuage your worries. She also mixes a mean drink.]

That is not what pushing that button was supposed to do.

This isn't the Tardis. It's a room full of mostly humans. Some in uniform. Some not. On a ship. A ship fixed on a dot in space. This is definitely not what that button was supposed to do. But standing still won't answer the question of what did happen, and where he is now. When. How. Who. Why.

The Doctor sidles, in a fast step, to the closest person nearby, hands dropping into his pockets and smile broadly friendly. Maybe it's you. "Hello, there. Nice night, isn't it?"

This place was certainly NOT Mugenjou, that at least Jubei could manage to figure out within moments. It wasn't the strange accents people spoke with, it wasn't the strange shapes or sense of presence some of those around him had, it wasn't even the unfamiliar architecture. It was mainly the sliding doors that clued him in. There wasn't enough electricity in Mugenjou to have sliding doors anywhere but the highest levels and he certainly wouldn't have been taken there.

Which to Jubei meant that being on a spaceship in the far future was just as likely as being in some underground government lab for experimentation. Panicking was just a waste of time and energy and he was too much a doctor to allow such undignified behavior anyways. So he did what any intelligent person from Mugenjou would do in a strange place: Observe, Listen, and Plan. It mattered very little that his eyes never focused on any one thing behind his dark glasses as he could hear most conversations quite clearly with only a bit of focus. It might even look like he'd fallen asleep in his chair with arms crossed and head slightly lowered.

The Torchwood hub is a pretty secretive place. Goes with the territory of being a secret alien-hunting organisation. Torchwood has secrets nobody but Jack knows.

But know them, Jack does. Or at least, most of them. The old place still has a few surprises once in a while when the Rift's getting messy, but that's Cardiff for you.

And of all the secrets he knows, this room is not one of them. And neither is the corridor on the other side of the door. But with the Rift, who knows what's going to happen or where you're going to wind up?

That's why there's a guy in an RAF greatcoat with a vintage pistol drawn and aimed as he walks through the door into Ten Forward.

Lt. Cdr. Terzen T'Karr is sat alone at a table, an array of PADDs in front of him. He's working away at a holodeck simulation, as well as pouring over how the Enterprise's holosystems worked.

He pauses, reaching up and tapping his combadge.

"T'Karr to Bridge." "Bridge here." "Any sign of the Pathfinder's transponder again?" "Negative. Sorry, Commander." "That's fine. Thank you."

A sigh as Terzen goes back to his PADDs. Maybe this was hopeless.

Any sensible ensign would have kept their mouth firmly shut, but then, any sensible ensign wasn't necessarily one Wesley Crusher, whose incorrigible desire to please anyone who sufficiently dazzled him resulted in chaos no matter where he went.

Archer had proven sufficiently dazzling in any event, and in this case the chaos he had left behind was one holodeck program, a full scale replica of the NX-1, complete with histories two hundred years old reconstructed from personnel records, psych reports and the many incomplete and fragmented logs that Archer and his crew had recorded. The ship was a good facsimile, of course; the people? Ghoulish copies of friends he had once known, some who were long dead, and others from which he had been snatched in their hour of victory by Q, an entity who had as so far ignored his entreaties to thin air and personal willingness to strike a bargain. He liked Starfleet's rules and regulations, they were good directives, but they weren't his - not yet - and he'd be damned if he got stuck here for no reason other than Starfleet inflexibility.

Still, any sensible ensign would have steered him away from any flimsy doppelganger of home, knowing what a final blow it would be to the bruises he'd taken so far. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to being whipped around through time--that wasn't the problem--but this Enterprise wasn't his ship. She was big beyond any comprehension, buzzing with life, dozens of different species of aliens, and very few he recognized. She was full of families and bristling with weapons, broke warp nine, had holodecks... There were miles of Jefferies tubes--miles of them, what was with that?! She was out of his league. A few minutes in the twenty ninth century couldn't come close to delivering the shell shock that several weeks on the Enterprise had done to him.

It had taken several wary attempts for Archer to trust a single holomatrix was 'real', or at least real enough to respond to his touch, but by the time he'd deleted the characters and toured the whole ship, he fell into the Captain's chair without even thinking about it twice--it felt so natural. It felt so safe.

This should all make him feel so proud, to be a part of it, to be remembered, honored. Without him, none of this would have happened, or at least not by now. Why, then, did he feel so very alone?

Kaylee didn't recognise the sounds of the engines. They were far different from Serenity's steady rumble (and occasional stutter). There was a brief panic as she wondered if the Alliance had caught up with them but it sounded like no Alliance ship she had ever heard. The Captain and Zoe wouldn't stay in the room, they'd be out of here guns blazing. Seemed like the best thing she could do was wait for them to find her. When no one came and she'd heard no sound for ten minutes, she crept towards the door. Nothing. She came up to the control panel and examined it.. "Seems simple enough," she said to herself as she let herself out.

The corridor was big, it was three times the size of Serenity's and it made her mouth hanging open. There were no ships in the galaxy like it. And with no guards to keep her here, she ventured forward. She could find somethin' out about the ship for the Captain.

She heard laughter and stepped into the entertainment lounge. "Shiny," she murmured, "Real shiny."

Julian was really starting to despise time travel. Granted, he'd ended up in the same century at least, but with that came its own complications--he actually existed in this timeframe. Two years out from graduating Starfleet Academy, in fact. He could look up his own file if he wanted.

On the wake of that realization came the fact that he had knowledge of events that hadn't yet transpired, but would, terrible things that he couldn't interfere with, lest he make it infinitely worse without even meaning it. Nevermind the Temporal Prime Directive. He could potentially warn Captain Picard of the most devastating events in recent Federation history, but at the same time knew that was impossible.

Either one of these would be enough to drive a man to drink.

Julian had the added injury that he had to by necessity revert to hiding his genetic status. No one, much less Julian--either the starry-eyed young cadet or the older and considerably more careworn officer that he was now--was ready to deal with the fallout of that particular revelation.

And because injuries couldn't go without insult, synthehol stood about as much chance as water of getting him honestly drunk, due to his enhanced metabolism. Bloody hell.

"Another round, if you please."

But he's sure going to try, apparently.

[ Ten Forward ]

While Henry was almost getting used to fairy tales being real, science fiction was something else entirely. But he took solace that he was better than sitting on that bus even if he did have an important job to do when he was due to get off it. Looking around the lounge, he couldn't help but smile at how cool everything looked. Eventually however, he moved to the bar and asked:

"Do you take credit cards?"

[ Holodeck ]

Sitting in what looked like a strange room with lines chequered over the walls, Henry opened his storybook to a page containing a picture of a castle. He'd already flicked through several other pages before settling on this one for the time being. After a moment though, he wondered out loud.

"I wonder what it looked like inside."

Suddenly the lines around him vanish and he's inside a castle. Standing up, he looks around in awe and wondering what on earth just happened.

Edited 2014-06-10 01:25 (UTC)

Topher wasn't sure how it happened or why but he was thankful. He was on board a Federation star ship. There was a look of pure glee when he figured his way out of the lounge a couple of days previous to discover where he was. If this was to be his version of the Attic, then they could keep him there.

He's still trying to explore as much of the ship as he possibly can do without getting into too much trouble. For now he's returned to the entertainment lounge as it seemed a good a place as any to go an he could attempt to get a beer.

Threaded | Flat

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