Test Drive #7 - Ten Forward and Captain's Yacht

[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 Captain's Yacht: Oooh, you sneaky stowaway! You've found yourself in a very exclusive part of the ship: Captain Picard's personal craft, used for short jaunts when a shuttle just won't do. (One must retain some decorum, after all.) It may not be as large as the Enterprise itself, but there are sure to be some surprises aboard once people start snooping.


[OOC: The Captain's Yacht is located at the very base of the Enterprise's saucer portion, so if you put someone in there you can also play them trying to get back to somewhere they know!]

Comments

[fishermansweater]

It might be a little unjust.

Okay, it might be a lot unjust, but Finnick can't help the wickedly teasing smile that creeps over his face at Haymitch's annoyance. He knows why Haymitch drinks, just like he knows why some victors drown themselves in morphling, or whatever other poison they choose for themselves. But the easy smile like he's laughing at the world is as much a part of Finnick's poison as alcohol is Haymitch's.

"Look at this. Haymitch Abernathy, stuck in a bar with no booze."

Finnick saunters up to the bar and gives a wide, toothy smile to Haymitch as he leans one elbow on the counter top.

No sign of anything here between them but the mocking disdain so many of the victors have always shown towards Haymitch.

"This must be some special kind of hell for you, right?" he says, with a mock-thoughtful expression, though his voice is carrying a suggestion of laughter.

Never mind that Finnick, too, is without the characteristic vice in which he famously indulges every time he's in the Capitol: a wealthy woman on his arm.

[nowinners]

Finnick is graced with a look, one which states with no words needed that now is not the time, nor is he in any mood for this shit he's being subjected to. Still, given he still doesn't know where they are, who this crappy bar belongs to, nor how he was brought here, he's willing to play along with the teasing.

"What about you? I noticed there's a distinct lack of lovely ladies here. How will you cope without anyone to sigh and coo over that pretty little face of yours?"

He has to wonder just how long Finnick's been in this place. Did he just arrive as well? Or has he been here awhile? Does he know anything about this situation? Or is it up to them to somehow figure it out without tipping the people here off as to their intentions? What ever the answers to those silent questions, one fact remains. They need to find a way out and he needs to find a way back.

Back to Katniss, back to Peeta.

[fishermansweater]

The appropriate response to Haymitch's glare is, of course, to flash him another insolent smile, one that shows as many teeth as possible, and then cast a lazily appraising look around the lounge they've found themselves in. So that, of course, is what Finnick does: for the onlookers, for any cameras that may be hidden here, for any spies who may be watching them.

No hint that they're revolutionaries, that Finnick expected to be miraculously plucked from the arena, but in a completely different way, from a completely different time, that this fact makes him wonder if this is some scheme from the Capitol or if something's been accelerated in the plans. Are Katniss and Peeta and Mags and Johanna here too? If they are, he's seen no sign of them. Just Haymitch.

Which means they're going to have to do some delicate dancing around the real truth of issues here. Because there's a lot more at stake here than whether or not Haymitch can continue to try drowning his demons, or whether Finnick has some new third-rate Capitol socialite on his arm and in his bed for her secrets and Annie's safety.

"It is a pity," Finnick says, carefully arranging his features into another pretense of thought. He frowns. "I'd definitely been hoping to meet some ladies. Take them for a drink. Especially your girl on fire."