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

[fallaces_sunt]

She frowns suddenly and doesn't bother to hide it. Despite what people may think, she's more honest in her reactions than most give her credit for. Then again, it does help in seeming normal. Helpless. Civilian.

"Panem," she says, slowly. Tribute, he'd said. Panem et circenses. "Where's Panem?"

His accent is odd, sometimes a Texan drawl and others something she'd almost state as being Central American. But neither of those are coming together as if he were a native one and moved to the other.

[fishermansweater]

He's far less certain than he sounded, but Finnick is nothing if not a consummate actor, because it's only his acting ability that stops him showing the Capitol and the people there all the disdain he feels for them even as he's whispering the pretty nothings they pay for as though he were really their lover.

His certainty takes another drop as he sees the frown on her face.

It looks real, and the hesitation in the name Panem does, too. Can she be telling the truth about not being there anymore? Everyone knows Panem. It's all there is left habitable on the world, isn't it? Though there had once been other landmasses.

Not that he actually knows how much of what he learned in school in District 4 was true.

"It used to be called North America," he says, caution in his voice.

That much he does remember.

[fallaces_sunt]

It's a terrible, and telling, contradiction: spend too long afraid, and you don't know how to show it. Even when, perhaps, not only you could but when you should.

The guy is good - very good. But he's not showing nearly enough uncertainty to be someone who will accept things on faith, or even logic and facts. Facts can, and are, things to be twisted.

In other words, Natasha gives him a long moment and thinks, well, shit.

"In my time, there's North America," she says. "It's a continent with three countries: Canada, United States of America, Mexico. I'm gonna wager you were pulled here from a time long after mine."

She watches him.

"Originally, I'm from a country known as Russia. Proper name, the Russian Federation. Or, Rossiyskaya Federatsiya. Have you heard of it?"

[fishermansweater]

Some of the names are familiar. Others are not.

The first list gets her a cautious nod, though Finnick's bright eyes are still intent on her, watching her like she watches him, and watch him she does, though it's not how he's used to being watched. He's always turned heads, even before he became a star all around Panem at the Hunger Games. Now, everywhere he goes, he's watched, stared at, admired, ogled, wanted.

He knows the looks. This isn't one of them. This is more like two tributes assessing each other in the arena.

Mexico -- a name that used to be given to part of what is now District 4, Finnick's own home, the source of the occasional vaguely Spanish lilt in his accent. Canada? That name is less familiar. But all of it is wrong. Panem hasn't had any of those names for a long time, and they're only passed on now in history lessons and half-remembered stories from the times before Panem, before the rest of the world flooded.

"No," he says, and his tone shows no indication of believing her, or of any easing of his suspicion. "Panem's the only habitable land left. And Panem hasn't been called any of those things for a long time."