ten_fwd | [Ten Forward]: Rooming Assignments + Holiday Open House!

Hmmm, something seems a little different about the Chief of Security today. His beautifully ridged countenance hasn't been seen for quite some time at the head of one of these little initiations, but now that Dr. Crusher's medical team has cleared a sizable number of new cattle for ship-wide access, and they've been carted around by Chief O'Brien on a tour of the ship, along with some background to the situation they now find themselves in, they've been mooooved right along to Lieutenant Worf in Ten Forward.

He looks at his data PADD, with all of his boring instructions and tedious details meticulously written out, and rolls his eyes. Rules, really? What harm could these people really do?

"The computer will instruct you on where all cleared-for-access decks are. You only have to ask where the area you are trying to get to is located, and it will give you clear directions. Do not visit any restricted areas. The bridge, engine rooms, transporter rooms, command centers, blah, blah-blah, blah blah, are all off-limits.

"Before you're assigned a room, there are a few rules you must obey, though I honestly don't know what could be done to stop you. One, do not discharge any weapon while on the Enterprise. Two, do not assault any other passenger aboard in any way; that includes injury, death, or violating their personal rights. Three, do not tamper with the operational procedures of the ship. Four, do not steal items or technology from the ship. Five, do not interrupt any official areas of the ship without proper authorization, and do not invade the privacy of other guest or crew quarters, good grief, this list just goes on forever, doesn't it?

"They want you to read the Prime Directive?! Boring. If you care to see that drivel you can look it up on your own personal PADDs, which will be available in every room. Now, how about something more interesting?"

With a flick of his wrist, the PADD disappears. Cracking his knuckles, "Worf" proceeds to snap his fingers and a flurry of snow whooshes through the room. When the proverbial dust settles, Ten Forward has been decked out in an array of holiday cheer. The windows are frosted, the bar is dusted in snow, a model train choo-choos its way around people's ankles out one door and back in the other. There is a traditional Earth tree in one corner with an endless pile of gifts stacked under it, but other worlds, cultures, and religions have not been left out. Everywhere one looks, there's a different kind of festive decoration.

"La, dee dum, dum," Worf hums, snapping his fingers again and causing a spread of food and drinks to appear on each and every table and surface: candies, cakes, mulled wines, chocolates, pheasants, yams, bol'ghba, and an abundance of other unpronounceable delicacies. "There. Now isn't that better? Never say I didn't do anything for you.

"Oh! That's right, the rooms," he recalls, clapping his hands. He pulls the PADD back out of the ether, reading off the list of quarters, their location, and the guests who will be sharing them.

Deck 07, Section 4
Room # 0713 - Kristen Kringle and Kuvira
Room # 0731 - Olan'atar and Sophia Inks
Room # 0737 - Bonnie Barstow and KITT (hologram)
Room # 0746 - Sterling Archer and Kira

Deck 8
Room # 0147 - T'Pol and Katniss Everdeen

Deck 9
Room # 0919 - Henry Mills and Matt Murdock
Room # 0921 - Pete Lattimer and Clara Oswald

"Now, won't that be fun?" Worf concludes, with a large, toothy grin. "Remember, it's only fun until Captain Picard has a heart attack, and then your actions are all on your own heads. Oh! Speaking of heads ... "

With one last snap, the Lieutenant in full dress before them morphs into what appears to be a Caucasian human male. No vestiges of the Klingon remain, and as such the man now lets out a long, grateful sigh. "It's good to be home."

For the foreseeable future, Ten Forward will remain in this state, and the doors to the guest quarters will stay open so each new arrival along with the old faithful can experience the full joy and beauty of the holiday season with each other. The corridors are all covered in frost, a pleasant nip in the air, and over the internal comms a song begins to play. The list of new assignments is also displayed on a PADD in Ten Forward, where people can refer to it if they need to.

[ooc: Happy Holidays, at least for the next few days! This log is both a party post for holiday shenanigans and an open log for new roomies (or old ones!) to build CR and meet their neighbors. We'll have a few special holiday top levels for gifts, but otherwise you can tag directly into the post with your character, their room number, and who they're looking for (or leave it OTA)!

Rooms are aligned the way they would be in a typical hotel: odd numbers on the left, even numbers on the right (so 0711 and 0713 will be next door neighbors, while 0712 is directly across the hall). There's a post in the OOC comm for OOC questions and comments! If you need to ask security questions, or need them to swing by another thread, just put "Security officer, please!" in the subject line of your tag, and the mods will send someone to you ASAP. The tour given by Chief O'Brien is not open for tagging; you can assume your character had any basic questions answered. ]

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Kale tends to be the slightly more sensible one and waiting as back up.

While slightly peeved that he didn't get much more of a reaction out of the alien, it still felt good to do. Lots of pent up frustration let out in that one punch.

He smirks back at the glare. "Maybe, but you can't say you didn't deserve it."

That comment about his mother? It's not going to be dignified with a response. He's got slightly more sense than that. (As opposed to punch Q in the nose... perhaps slightly more sensible is up for definition.)

"Deserve it! Why, I've never seen such ingratitude!" he scoffs. He leans forward, both palms flat on the table, and cants his head at an angle. "Tell me, which is it you resent so much? The free ticket on the Federation's most illustrious starship? The chance to see the universe? Or perhaps the opportunity to play your own game of dice with the universe? Or have you not noticed the way reality..."

He twirls his hand in the air. "...bends here, compared to the way those dull rules the rest of the universe is governed by keep everything so orderly and in place? Why, yes. How could I not have seen it! You're so abused."

He clucks his tongue, shaking his head and, seeing Trever's reaction, continuing the theme of an angry, scolding mother. "You poor, poor little dear. Perhaps I should send you someplace more ... agreeable?"

"Kidnapping is generally frowned upon, no matter the well wishes of the kidnapper. If you're so interested in showing people the glories of the universe perhaps you should ask them first," Trever said, flicking his fingers out in irritation.

Does he know he's playing with fire, so to speak, yes. Does he care? No.

"And no, I haven't noticed reality getting all bendy. Sadly, that is not one of my particular knacks."

Trever continued on his theme of being stupid by rolling his eyes little. "Yes, I'm sure you can and will. But it still won't erase what you've done."

"Kidnapping!" he laughs, as if the idea is utterly preposterous. Which it is. He sharpshoots a look at the sanctimonious little pustule standing before him. "And what makes you think you're trapped here, ingrate? Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you should ask to go home? Or am I to know your every whim, like a squawking babe clamoring for mother's milk?"

This is beginning to lose its amusement for him. He settles back in his chair, and taps his chin. "You know, when I brought you and your brother here I thought your 'particular knacks' would make life more interesting aboard, but now I'm finding your ego off-putting. Scolding me! As if I should feel guilty?" He barks with laughter. "No, I don't imagine it will erase what I've done, but it will give me infinite amusement."

This really is as bad as talking to one of the fey except that Trever seriously doubt that an iron nail would be any use against the alien which makes it even worse. Stabbing him would probably not work either, alas. It'd be satisfying... but wouldn't work. If anything he'd end up with a broken knife.

Trever closes his eyes briefly and mentally counts to ten. He is not going to let this infantile ignoramus with all the brains of a dung beetle to get to him. Get to him any more than he already has.

He will not say that it should be obvious that if he didn't ask permission to take them it was kidnapping - but fey don't think like that. They think that they're doing things that will make people better... when they're trying to be magnanimous. Though comments about entertainment ...

Sounding a lot calmer than he actually feels, he asked, "Is that actually true? If someone were to ask you to go home, you'd send them back? If they were to say, 'please send me back home' you'd send them back?"

Then, because he can't help it, he adds, "Would you prefer if we get everyone drunk on whiskey and then try and take over the ship?"

He really is but a boy, isn't he? To his credit, he does have Q's interest — for the moment. What he has failed to consider in all his grandiose monologuing is that Q has faced Tasha Yar, who was not only Trever's better in the realm of strategy and combat, but also far more eloquent in her execution. It is Trever's only saving grace that Q decides reading his mind would take what little amusement there is out of this situation, though he can guess it well enough just by observing the child's laughable lack of self-restraint. How he has not been eaten by some grisly creature already is a mystery.

"I am finding your high horse dull," he says, all amusement void from his face. With an intensity Trever really does not want to see from the alien in question, Q only dignifies his query with the most clipped of answers. "Have I not done so already?"

If he is to face Q in the glorious tradition of battle, then he should at least ensure he has his facts straight. It's piteous enough to die, but to die a fool is just sad. He expected so much more from him, and he has to say he has been sorely disappointed. That closing remark does not even warrant acknowledgment.

Strategy really isn't one of Trever's strong suits. Nor is diplomacy. If they had been he would have approached this completely differently. As for the reason why he's not been eaten by some grisly creature is because he's killed them first. Not always alone, but usually because he got to them first.

The intensity of the look doesn't bother him. He's stared down gods and high fey before. Q is no different in his mind to that respect. In fact there's very little respect in his own eyes. Though he does resist the urge to say something along the lines of pots and kettles and how they're colored.

He glanced over his shoulder to Kale who made a quick hand gesture in response to his look. Turning back to Q he gave the alien one long look.

"He's right. You're just not worth it," he said finally. "Thank you for the whiskey though."

[Ten Forward]: Rooming Assignments + Holiday Open House!

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I love you. Just on general principle.

But of course. What's not to love?

Re: But of course. What's not to love?