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ten_fwd_mods) wrote in
ten_fwd_meme2016-02-13 09:35 pm
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TEST DRIVE #18 - Ten Forward & the Low Grav Gymnasium

Option 001. 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 002. The Low-Gravity Gymnasium: The gym is a large room with several alcove-like sections housing the aerobics and martial arts areas, a parrises squares area, an anbo-jyutsu court, and a separate fencing room. Most noteworthy is the area dedicated for zero-gravity training.
Zero-gravity can be, well, kind of weird, because it's not like a gradual loss of the pressure holding you to the floor--you may have taken the turbolifts, just expecting to take a leisurely run, or maybe work out with a treadmill to get in some cardio, but the minute you step into the gym you're floating, as is anything you might have been holding or bringing with you.
What now? Panic, flail, and try to swim through the air back to where the gravity is normal? Do you make the best of it and tough it out to get your exercise in? Or, as we recommend, do you start having fun with the sudden game of weightlessness? Pick your personal scenario and have fun with all the other weightless people.
Boy, this is gonna make hitting the showers after your workout awkward...
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There hadn't been 'anyone else' around him in a long time. Considering where 'everyone else' was was a hobby he'd given up years earlier. Because wherever they were, they sure as fuck weren't coming for him.
Until one day they did.
Because they needed his help.
To stop her.
In hindsight, talking to her might have been a better idea. But hindsight was always 20/20, wasn't it?
"Their resilient friend?" Erik was pretty sure that guy was still at the bottom of the Potomac.
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Dirty look, directed. Then relaxed, with a sigh of irritation, because for all that he's an unremitting asshole, this is not actually either of their faults.
"Maybe you didn't notice all the secret service guys and soldiers while you were pulling that stadium stunt, but it wasn't just about you and your cape and your flying, ok? There were other people there, and none of them are here. Why just us?"
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He shrugged.
"Their being there didn't really have much effect on my 'stadium stunt', did it? Whoever brought us here probably didn't notice them, either."
It took a lot of energy and/or money to pull of something like this kidnapping. Why waste it on nobodies?
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"Why did you even need a stadium? For a statement, it was pretty over the top." She slides onto the bar stool next to him, dumping her backpack at her feet. There's a heavy clunk as she does so, but she doesn't seem worried. "You're bleeding, by the way."
Where she shot him. She's still a crack shot. Good to know.
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He glanced at her.
"The stadium served two purposes. One was privacy and infrastructure." It was set up with tv cameras. And it stopped more police getting in. "Two was that it was a big enough object that flying it in there scared the everliving fuck out of those assholes. I knew they'd hide in their giant steel box without even thinking about it. Then they were fish in a barrel."
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The awesome thing about bars is they have bartenders; Raven signals this one, and asks for cold water.
"I just want to point out the oxymoronic use of privacy when the cameras made damn sure the whole world watched your little showdown." Water arrives, and she reaches for a paper napkin from the little metal thingy, dunks it in the glass, and holds it out to him. "Seclusion, I get. Privacy, not so much."
Although it was pretty impressive, all told.
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"Seclusion, then," he says in a tone that suggests that if she wants to get semantic, then fine. English is his second language, Raven. "What the cameras didn't capture was me being tackled to the ground by seventy fucking police officers because they couldn't get in."
He slapped the damp napkin to his wound like it irritated him more than anything. Like a mosquito bite.
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"Nope, just a blue woman shooting you and saving the President," she replies, half smug and half irritated. "Thanks so much for making me a god-damned hero."
Not that she'd stuck around for it. She'd nicked his helmet, then walked straight out of the stadium... and onto an alleged spaceship. Something about this feels vaguely deja vu.
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"You had it in you all along," he told her glibly. "I just brought it out."
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"Oh, yeah?" She raises an eyebrow. "So why are you the one in the cape?"
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Her lips twitch in badly hidden amusement.
"You were putting on a show, don't even try to deny it."
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"That's the only thing people know how to pay attention to."
That was the plain and, as far as he was concerned, ugly truth. Put on a good enough show, and you could convince people that anything was right. The difference between this time and the last time he saw it was that he intended to put together at least as compelling a show as the enemy. You fight fire with fire.
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She has a mouthful of the water she'd asked for, now that his bleeding seems to have slowed. No sense in wasting it if they really are in space.
"At what point in your book was the kidnapping to space with only two of the players? It seems like a sudden plot twist."
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She's still mad at him, but there's a solidarity in this, and part of her still trusts him. A little bit. They need to stick together.
"I might have left you to Charles' tender mercies and stepped out of your stadium and into... here."
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And that didn't quite line up. They were brought very close together, but not in the same moment.
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"How-- so-- wait. You were still bleeding. Did you not get it seen to?"
Because that's what's most important right now. Health and safety.
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Ignoring the fact that she'd done the same thing, Raven is quietly indignant.
"For fuck's sake!" One finger is pointed at him. "You're getting that looked at. Somewhere. There's probably a med bay or something, I've seen Star Trekkers or whatever that show was called."
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"That's... something. I guess."
Still.
"Doesn't explain how we both got here from different points at the same time."
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"He said that." Her brother has a horse that is far too high, and has forgotten that just because he can't use his legs, doesn't mean she can't use hers. "Do you believe him?"
If he does, he's an idiot, and she's done. She'll find her own damn way out of wherever here is.
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They may be... whatever they are these days, but they had something once. He's relieved at her 'fuck off' stare, to be honest. Once it was out of his mouth, he realized that she had the opportunity to believe it. Or pretend to. He could sort of deal with her resenting him now, but not with her taking that away.
"I told him why you left, since he didn't seem to get it." He shrugs and checks the napkin, then folds it and reapplies it. "His response was to suggest that you left because I got inside your head." He raises his eyes to find her face again. "I reminded him that that wasn't my power."
The worst part was that, as he remembered it, Charles sent them away. The first time the telepath came at him, he resented the accusation. He'd asked him to be with them. Charles told them to go. It wasn't like he couldn't get in touch with them if he'd changed his mind. But he hadn't. And apparently his version is now that Erik somehow manipulated Raven into letting him abduct her. Absurd. How dare he? And try making her do anything.
He glanced down at the bar again. "I didn't defend it to him beyond that, but that time meant something to me. I took offence. I took offence to what he said and to his years of inaction and to the fact that he thinks I'm some kind of monster because I didn't handle Shaw the way he wanted. I told him what I was going to do. I never misled him. Never."
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