Ten Forward RPG mod account (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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ten_fwd_ooc2014-12-27 03:39 pm
ten_fwd_mods) wrote in ten_fwd_ooc2014-12-27 03:39 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive #7 - Ten Forward and Captain's Yacht
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!]
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Annie startles back, pulling her hands away from Agatha's quickly. No weapon no further sign of attack but she can handle this she can, she can, she doesn't need Finnick to swoop in. Someone is just...
Acting a little like her.
"Wo-wouldn't it start to smell? If the, the milk spoiled?"
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She hummed, leaning back, considering. "Of course, that would skew the energy to fuel ratio," she said after a moment of that odd not-music humming. "Milk just isn't as efficient as steam for powering a.... wait! STEAMED MILK! YOU'RE A GENIUS!" She jumped up from her stool, letting go of the other girl's hands. "Steamed milk! A milk engine, that captures the escaped steam both for energy and for sustenance! It will power the machine, and still be indigestible... as a milk foam... for COFFEE!!!!!!" She clapped her hands gleefully. "If the teeth are coffee grinders.... Oh! And if it could LEARN the kind of coffee you like, and make you increasingly better and better brews to your unique tastes...."
And if Maxim were there, this is where he would be getting somebody, ANYBODY to stop her, to not ever EVER let Agatha make or drink coffee again. Good thing for her, he isn't there!
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She shakes her head, slightly, with a tiny smile. She knows the smile is uncertain, hesitant, but she's okay. For now. She is. She will be.
Then she frowns, glancing back at the still gesturing girl.
"...does this mean it's going to pee coffee?" she says before she can stop herself, and chokes a little on a sudden, nervous giggle.
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All the things she had built since the Baron had kidnapped here, all the things she had seen in the castle... In the NURSERY of the castle, and yet, having to figure out if a cat clank had to be male or female to pee coffee... That shook her.
She had been picturing a teapot in it's paws, like Krosp... A delicate little tea pot, maybe in green, with some nice curves, and a small circular blade to keep anyone from stealing it. And possibly a drug strainer.... But.... She supposed she could make it pee coffee instead.
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"You didn't um, specify where things were supposed to come out, so," she manages, concentrating on her glass of lemonade.
"What were you thinking of?"
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"So it's not a moving cat? It doesn't run?"
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She started to pace, heterodyinging - humming that odd non-music hum - again, her hands moving as formulas danced in her mind, then she spun, skirt swirling about her ankles as she fixed on Annie. "Parts! we need parts! Come on!" she held out her hand.
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"I, I don't-"
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He doesn't appear out of nowhere, of course. He's simply good at being where he needs to be in the right moment, and he's been watching, from over at the bar, knowing as he does the effect that being around strangers, being out in public, being out of her comfort zone, can have on Annie. So he's been watching, ever since the woman sat down at Annie's table.
He doesn't trust this place or anyone in it but Annie.
He'd been prepared to move the instant Annie needed him to. She'd already warded him off once, but this time, he was moving even before she held up her hands.
Under the table, his foot reaches to press against Annie's for a second.
"Ladies," he says, his brittle smile bright, "I hope you don't mind me interrupting. I just had to say hello to the two most gorgeous girls in the room."
He's well aware that the manner he affects in the Capitol can be disconcerting.
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She saw the other girl starting to freak out, had it been the approach of this guy, had she noticed it before Agatha? Yes, Agatha was wondering if she had to protect Annie from Finnick.
She stepped closer to the other girl. "You have said hello, hello," she said simply, hoping this would be enough to ward him off. Of course, she doubted it was. Tarvek. Gil. Guys who came over with such confidence were usually the hardest to shake. While, ultimately, she didn't really regret knowing Tarvek or Gil, she did NOT need a third, and this girl... she didn't seem like she could handle an aggressive guy just now. But Zeetha had trained her, and...
She hated Othar, hated to admit he could be right...about anything. But he was right that she couldn't just disappear into a crowd. She knew her father only from the stories, hadn't seen her uncle Barry since she was a child, but apparently there was too much of them in her. She rose in defense of this other girl. Her hand rested on her hip... where her spanner was.
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Annie Cresta? Hates Finnick Odair, the Capitol's golden-haired boy. He acts like this, charming snake-oil and as off-putting as one of the Capitol's pleasure cruisers. And she's never been a very good actor.
Luckily, she is possessed of a nervous giggle, and one that tends to escape her fingers no matter how fast her hand moves.
And this is Finnick pretending to be Finnick, as he always does when she needs to melt away somewhere safe.
So, she bursts out in startled, embarrassed giggles and ducks her head. "I, I'm not that pretty."
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"Yes, you are," she said to Annie absently, "but that doesn't mean that you should settle for the first guy who tells you that. If you want him gone, tell him."
She considered, then added, "If you want me gone, tell me. If you want us both gone, I'll take him with me, whether he likes it or not."
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He hates treating Annie like an object, like any one of the pretty, useless women he has to flirt for in the Capitol ay time he's there, when she's been the strength behind him for so long, the face he sees when he wakes from the nightmares, the touch he'll accept when any other would make him flinch, but this is the game he plays, has played for Annie's sake since he'd gotten her through the Games, since he'd shielded her on her Victory Tour, and every time he's in the Capitol.
This is the person the Capitol wants, all toothy smiles and seductive manner, and he hates the mask every time he has to wear it, but he wears it so often sometimes it's hard to shed it, to remember who he really is underneath the Capitol's webs.
(Annie reminds him, the nights he forgets.)
He leans forward, elbows on the table, his foot brushing against Annie's again to remind her that this isn't him, that this is the game they both hate, the trap he's been woven into by Snow. His eyes go half-lidded, his voice dropping from its usual boyishness to something far more seductive.
"I think I could handle going with you," he says, smirking.
(He can't dare to look at Annie. He knows she hates this game.)
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She presses her boot against his under the table, gives them both an awkward and smile, and falters.
"I think, um, I wouldn't want to-to make a fuss, so I can," she stumbles a bit to her feet, accidentally knocking her glass of lemonade into a dangerous rock before she catches it. Some spills over her hand, and she tries to ignore the urge to lick it off.
"I can go, uh, I hope your...coffee works out," she says to Agatha before her eyes dart to Finnick.
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"How about we go to my quarters, I think that's what they called the rooms here, and get started on the cat?" She asked Annie. "A guy like this, I'm sure he will have no problem getting someone else to spend some time with him." Hopefully someone with good hard boots and brass knuckles. "In fact, my room is kind of lonely, I guess I got used to a lack of privacy, so if you want, you could bunk with me for a while." Then no one could get to the girl and force her to do anything without going through Agatha first. Of course... In her room she already had a mostly complete death ray, if this girl was rooming with her, she would have reason to finish it that much sooner. And while she wasn't Zeetha, maybe she could help the girl learn some basic self defense, might do wonders for her self confidence. She would also have to let the soldiers on this odd Castle Enterprise know if this guy tried to push them any further.
In her experience, aggressive flirts were aggressive in other ways as well. Thanks to... Well... A lot of people... And a good death ray or three, she could handle it, but this girl looked like she would break under the pressure, and she didn't know how to fix what would happen next. So no, this guy was not about to lead this little slip of a girl back to cogs knows where. Not. A. Chance.
(Posted from my ipad, please excuse typos)
tw: reference to sexual assault
Nobody in this place is separating Annie from him. Not ever, not even if they think they're protecting her. He was her mentor, her friend, and he's been her protector in so many ways, even before he became her love.
Their problem here stems from just what the woman tells Annie: there are no lack of people who want to spend time with Finnick, to have him and use him when the only person he ever wants to be with is Annie. Were it not for that, they could be like Katniss and Peeta: a romance of victors, survivors against the odds.
Instead, he's left trying to protect her in the only way he can.
But the blonde has the wrong idea entirely; he can read Annie, she's trying to escape, and if she's not allowed to escape with him, he'll give her the opening to escape alone.
For a fleeting moment, Annie's eyes meet his, and he hopes she can read the apology in his gaze before it darts away, an apology for the brash edges of his flirtation, for pushing and pushing because he has to, it's all he has to protect her where they're not safe, but he knows she hates it, hates him like this, and he always feels like he's exposing her to the Capitol's filth when he has to be like this in front of her.
He slumps, shrugs, shakes his head, and looks up at the blonde (acutely aware of that tool at her waist).
"She's not interested. Let her go." He lets his expression twist into wryness for a moment, as though he were sorry to let Annie walk away, instead of desperately trying to give her an opening.
"I'll tell you a secret," he tells the blonde. "She knows me from home, and I get the feeling she doesn't like me much."
The smile creeps back.
"Guess I'll have to talk to you instead."
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(It's not, it's not, but the fault isn't with him.)
"But...you're nice," she tells Agatha. "Thanks. But I can, um. Look after myself."
There is, if someone is looking, the barest flash of steel (or perhaps something akin to the ocean; able to remain no matter the storm). The barest flash, because with a final glance between them, Annie darts off into the crowd.
This is the advantage to barely scraping 5'1 - one can get lost in a crowd of people very easily.
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She turned to look to Finnick, nodding a bit. "Okay, so we both know I'm only talking to you to give her time to get clear. I have had my fill of overly aggressive males. So, tell me, is there any reason at all I would actually WANT to talk to you?"
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"Where we're from?" he continues, leaning closer, with a hardness in his face that hadn't been there before, "that means someone is spying on you. Gathering information to feed back to the Capitol to use to control you. Like I said, I know her. She's had enough of that for a lifetime."
Not that he thinks this woman means anything by it, but the idea of Annie being followed, of Annie finding out, because she would, she's smarter than people give her credit for, chills him.
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The problem with not knowing what someone was ultimately after was not knowing which act was closest to the truth. She knew Tarvek. She knew from him and his family all about acts and double talk, and how one person could wear a million faces, none of them his own. That's why she tried to have patience when Tarvek and Gil tried to kill each other, she had the impression that was pretty close to the true Tarvek, and if nothing else, she owed him enough to want to be someone he didn't have to put on an act for.
...And this was where she was glad NOT to be home, because the castle had gotten too good at guessing the direction of her thoughts, and too obnoxious in voicing its own interpretations of them.
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All Finnick wanted then was to get her through, to protect her, and it's still what he wants. He doesn't know who or what he can trust here. If he could have walked over and sat down next to Annie, taken her hand openly, let it be seen that he was here with her, to protect her, he'd have done just that. But their relationship can't become public. He can't tell this woman the truth.
"So stay here," he says. "You want to protect her from me? You don't have to, but fine. Just leave her out of it. Though given that I'm that bunkmate she said she liked, you might have a hard time stopping her seeing me."
He shrugs. "Like I said, I know her from home."
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"Since you seem to be willing to pretend to be more straight forward now, I'll ask a straight forward question. If you know you scare her, why did you come over here? Why that act?"
Not the act, an implication that she doesn't buy for a second that this is any more genuine than that had been. She isn't expecting an honest answer, but she is hoping to learn something about the situation any way.