ten_fwd | Entries tagged with amy pond

On Valentine's Day, one can enter a lounge on a spaceship docked outside a beautiful blue jewel of a planet (which can clearly be seen out the windows), and see that it's been made over with candles and linen tablecloths and red rose centrepieces. It's not anything as grand as Q would do. Amy is using the romance of the room: the windows looking out on Pacifica, soft lighting, and like last year she's even managed to find a trio to play music in one corner of the room: flute, cello, and violin.

Walking in, there's a sign:

♥ BLIND DATING TONIGHT, 19:00* ♥
Party to follow at 23:00*!

A ginger beauty in a red dress is standing by with a sheet of those name tags you stick on your shirt that say HELLO MY NAME IS ______ and a clipboard of seat assignments. Not all the tables are taken (the woman in charge, Guinan, insisted the room stay open for other patrons), so those meant for the blind dates have numbers tucked in the centrepieces. Amy's taken mostly tables around the outside of the room, where there is the best view of space and a little privacy.

Table 1 - Luna Lovegood & Noriko Ashida
Table 2 - Ed & Alex Rogan
Table 3 - Kale McCallum & The (10th) Doctor
Table 4 - Trever McCallum & Ishka
Table 5 - Olan'atar & T'Pol
Table 6 - General Chang & Aeryn Sun
Table 7 - Marion Scotts & Thor Odinson
Table 8 - The (12th) Doctor & Aidan Nichols
Table 9 - Islington & Merlin
Table 10 - Deanna Troi & DJ
Table 11 - Kristen Kringle & Booker DeWitt
Table 12 - Jacqueline "Jackal" Egret & Dimo
Table 13 - Bob Fraser & Cridhe
Table 14 - Grainne O'Brian & Harry Dresden
Table 15 - Thea Queen & Kitt

If your name is on her list, you'll get a name tag and a little card with your table number on it. "Here you go. The bar's open while you wait, I bribed Guinan t' have out the real stuff, so you can tell her I sent you. No gettin' carried away, though. And no funny business, you treat your date with respect or I'll have you by the ear before night's out. I'll be 'round if you need anything."

Once everyone's been checked off her list, she's going to settle at the bar and have a drink. Match-making's hard business, but each time she does it she gets a little sense of satisfaction. Once the dates are over for the evening, she's looking forward to kicking off her heels and turning this place into a dance party.

* That's 7PM and 11PM respectively!

> Going Stag top-level!
> Open Tables (OTA) top-level!
> Galentine's Day DANCE PARTY OTA top-level!
> The OOC Sign-Ups/Announcement

Current Mood: proud
Current Location: Deck 10, Forward: Lounge

and_she_waited

It's hard for her to believe that Rory has been gone a whole year now. Her Raggedy Man has finally come, and she thought once that had happened Rory would be back, but no such luck yet. She's been keeping a close eye on her Doctor for fear he disappears on her, too.

On the contrary, more of him keep showing up.

Christmas set her in a mood. She wants to do something for the Doctors; a dinner party or fancy dress, maybe. He likes that. In all the time she's travelled in the TARDIS it's never felt lonely, but out here she misses her family and her husband, and the Doctor is all she really has. Even her daft flatmate has gone missing. Without her permission, to add insult.

So, it's distraction that puts her in Ten Forward tonight, for the most part. That and she's been down to the planet they're currently at, and seeing all the happy faces and peaceful couples set her in another mood. A mood to meddle. Annie's gone and gotten herself married, which means Amy is in the market for somebody new to give her the good gossip.

♥ Amy Pond's Blind Dating Service ♥

She's got a sign on her table, and another two on the doors going in and out of the lounge with her table number written on it. Currently she's sitting with her legs crossed, doodling flowers and little tornadoes in the margins of her clipboard paper, waiting for her first unsuspecting ~~victim~~ client.

[OOC: ETA a top-level specifically for the IC sign-up sheet. If you want to establish IC your character signing up without threading with Amy you can post them in on this top-level, or leave it OTA so others can tag you with reactions, questions, comments, etc!]

Current Location: Deck 10: Forward

immutablysam

Sam actually lived during parts of the golden age of piracy. These people's teeth are far too well tended, they smell better, the rum is a lot less... dirty, and who in all the hells ever talked like /that?/

But ok. So the pirate outfit is actually better than the stupid indian ones. And there's rum. Rum makes so many things better. Sam is wandering down the halls here and there, quite steadily, despite the bottle of rum being two-thirds gone, with three parrots having adopted 'him', and a couple more perching on the ornithopter that rolls behind Sam.

the_tailor_spy

He had spent some time on this. After being assigned quarters - mercifully free of a roommate - the only thing to do was rearrange them to his liking. Easier said than done, certainly. Asking the replicator for anything Cardassian had prompted some impertinent questions from security, so he had made do with paint. Toning down the Federation colours into something more pleasing to the Cardassian eye.

But that had been his quarters. The question remained...what do with the other half? He had almost sighed, inwardly, when the answer came. There really was only one thing. At least he was good at it.

He had partially walled off one side of the quarters halfway with what construction materials he could get from the replicator, and the rest was behind some rather nice red curtains. A little touch of bright theatricality, but since his clientele here would be overwhelmingly human by the look of things, it never hurt to play to their sensibilities. On the bit of wall, well. He had reached into the hidden pouch in his bag and past the disassembled phaser components to bring out the rolled canvas he had carefully put there. Lovingly framed, he hung the art on the bit of wall. Not too obtrusively, really, not even noticeably. But it was there.

For a long time, after that, he had just stared at it. The last piece of Tora Ziyal he had.

But, to work. The other half was beginning to fill with reams of fabric. He'd brought some with him, others were replicated. Still more he was making himself from replicated materials. Hand-made had such a special cachet, after all.

Bit by bit, the tailoring shop was filling. The advertisements he had been putting up around the ship, well. Those would help, too.

He stood, brushing lint from a jacket on display. A simple grey, true, but in a somewhat modern cut. Business-like, but with that hint of...fun.

He really was a very good tailor.

cridhe

Jack had finally convinced the Doctor that they needed as much rest as she did. So they had left her alone in the room she was supposed to be sleeping in. The Doctor had given her the ring of his first wife. For a man who has tried to forget so much of Gallifrey, he really was a sentimental idiot. It was a black ring with silver Gallifreyan script written on it. The ring held a special power, he had said. It was something to keep her safe. But she had not been able to remove it. That was all right, she supposed. She trusted him, so if this was for her good, she would wear it. It was slightly too big to wear on her right ring finger, so she wore it on the middle finger of that hand instead.

She had accomplished so much - over a thousand years of running the calculations - and she was once again in flesh form. This time she was much more stable than she had been when the House had forced her into Idris' body. And she intended to remain this way as long as possible. It was with that thought she fell asleep.

She wakes with a gasp. When she looks around, she realises she is no longer in the bedroom Jack had provided for her. In fact, she can tell this place was in motion. It only takes her one look out the window to realise... she has no idea where she is. That is terrifying for her. She is used to being able to control the whole of Time and Space. And she can't tell much of anything. It's almost like this isn't her universe, but how is that even possible? Maybe this is just a nightmare. Jack and the Doctor had both mentioned they were fairly common. All she needs to do is wake herself up. She closes her eyes and then opens them again. "It is not working!"

Her voice has a melodic quality to it. Almost as if she were singing, if she were speaking another language. Now, she was starting to panic properly. She cries out, "Doctor? Jack?"

She looks around again. The place where she is looks like a place for socialising, only there are very few people around. She closes her eyes again, trying to calm herself. She can tell it is the period for a majority of humans to be sleeping. Well that explains the lack of others. She needed to find the Doctor and Jack. If she was here, perhaps they were as well. If she could not understand, perhaps it was something specific to flesh that they could explain to her.

To anyone who is around she will ask: "Excuse me, have you seen the Doctor or Jack?"

[ooc: I'm happy to backtag to this until I can post to the sickbay entry. I have something entirely different planned for that.]

constellar

"Gyyaaaaaacccckkkk!" This was just about the noise anyone nearby would have heard. A teenage boy screaming for his life, but only briefly.
This wasn't what he was expecting though.

The expression of utter terror left his features, and he patted himself to make sure he was whole.
This was the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, and for a moment he thought this was how he left his oh-so-full life that could have been much fuller, but then a lightbulb came on.

"Hah! I get it! You want a rematch, huh? Of course, you heard of just how strong I was and decided you'd bring out an Action Field right in the middle of Maiami City? Good one, good one~" He applauds.
But where was his opponent now? She had likely already taken off into those corridors to hide. "If you're going to play hide and seek, then... I'll summon Constellar Acubens in defense mode!" After having taken a card from the hand he had pulled, he places it upon the luminous, light platform that comes out of the device attached at his arm, the Duel Disk.

But then? Confusion melts his confidence away. "Is my Duel Disk broken? Oh come on!" He slaps the card onto the surface once more, looks around. the monster should have appeared, and yet... Nothing.
"Oh, maybe it appeared somewhere else in this labyrinth." If he has time to talk to himself, his opponent must be further away, lying in wait. "Okay then, be that way." With this monster in defense mode, he could take any of her attacks while he looked around for an Action Card.

Taking off running down a corridor, however, he cannot help but marvel at this field he hasn't ever seen before. It looks like some cool, futuristic spaceship!
He will be very confused once he happens upon someone.

i_am_badwolf

For the past two weeks the more alert of the crew might have noticed something odd. A misprint in a book, a glitch on a computer display, an errant sound picked up while scanning transmissions. It was there, a blip on the radar of existence. Just two words, repeating and returning.

Bad Wolf

For most people this was a meaningless thing, beneath passing notice. But some might know or feel there was more to it than that. For those who could feel it, or those just out for a stroll, the clues would lead them to Deck 7 and down the long corridor lined with quarters to the open door of room 0772.

Inside was a woman trying to make sense of the universe she found herself in, she was pouring over the computer looking for any hint of home.

madman_inabox

Little Amy and The Doctor are headed off for adventures....after she stops being so...Scottish

treadswater

There was a time when Annie was in a gym at least six days out of seven. Ages eleven to sixteen, during her time at the Career Academy (a slightly grandiose name for quite a glorified school club, but it wasn't until Annie was a victor herself that she recognized the self-depreciating humour in the name). Before school and after school, training and training and training. After that, when she was washed out, no gyms, but she kept up the physical activity - and exceeded it, fishing being what it is. As a victor, she ran most mornings, or swum. Worked out. Sparred with Finnick. She'd noticed if she didn't, her mind got worse, her fits of hysteria (anxiety attacks, Beverly had called them) more frequent.

But it's been six months since she's done anything properly physical regularly. When her mood's been stable, she's turned the holodeck into a running track, but that hasn't been nearly anything like five or six days out of seven.

She's twitchy, which goes a way to explain how she winds up in the gymnasium, trailing her fingers over the bo staffs in their rack. She'd been good at spears in the Academy, and although the idea of stabbing now makes her uneasy, she's still good at wielding a staff. She can get her fiancé (tall, built, twice her size and lethal) on his back.

Annie picks up one of the staffs and hefts it, giving it an experimental twirl. It's well-balanced, and she smiles, quiet and shy and delighted.

But despite that delight, and how practically she's already dressed (boots, trousers, simple blouse under her loose jacket, hair braided), she doesn't make any further movements towards any of the practice mats.

Current Location: Deck 12, Gymnasium

captgreatcoat

Nobody's seen much of Jack lately. He's been quieter, more subdued, more prone to keeping to himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat and ....

Rose would have called it brooding. Gwen probably would, too.

Rose is gone. Gone back to her time, perhaps. But who knows? She'd just disappeared. He should know better than this, now, to be so attached to people, but Gwen would say that's what keeps people human, and human is something he doesn't always feel. And Rose Tyler was one of the best people he'd known in so many lifetimes' worth of living. She'd taken a con-man and helped show him how to care again, how to live, how to love. She'd had adventures with him across time and space, been his best friend and his best girl though nothing more than friendship had ever officially passed between them, at least not in the confines of 21st century Britain's understanding of relationships.

Rose is gone, and he doesn't know if he's sent her to her death by not warning her.

To anyone who truly knew Jack, the sight of him in his Second World War era coat perched on a barstool with a glass of brandy might seem ... out of place.

He's not breaking his self-imposed not-drinking-unless-he-really-needs-to rule, though. It's synthehol.

He'd probably be better off talking to someone.

Current Location: Deck Ten, Forward: Bar

missginnytonic

Ginny walks out of her room to what she had come to think of as the lounge, It was she had found the best place to meet people. She knew she had a roommate but she had yet to discover or meet them, She was looking forward to that to getting more friends if she was going to be here. It was confusing but she knew he world would be confusing to Muggles.

and_she_waited

In some wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey universe where it is a perfect Saturday night ~~and certainly not a Sunday afternoon~~, one can walk into a lounge out in the heart of space and see it made over with candles and linen tablecloths and red rose centerpieces. It's not anything quite as grand as what Q could do. Amy is using the romance of the room: windows looking out across the stars, soft lighting; she even has a trio in one corner playing flute, cello, and violin.

As you walk into Ten Forward, you'll see a sign which says ♥ BLIND DATING TONIGHT, 7PM ♥ and a redhead standing by with those name tags you stick on your shirt that say HELLO MY NAME IS ______ and a clipboard of seat assignments. Not all the tables are taken; even if Amy's first go at this had been that big of a success, the woman in charge, Guinan, insisted the room stay open for other patrons. She's taken mostly the tables around the outside of the room, where there is the best view of space and a little privacy, and each of those tables has a number on it.

If your name is on her list, you'll get a name tag and a little card with your table number on it. "Here you go. The bar's open while you wait, I bribed Guinan t' have out the real stuff, so you can tell her I sent you. No gettin' carried away, though. And no funny business, you treat your date with respect or I'll have you by the ear before night's out. I'll be round if you need anything."

Once everyone's been checked off her list, she's going to settle at the bar and have a drink. Match-making's hard business, but she truly thinks she outdid herself this time.

[ooc: So for everyone who's been on a blind date before, you know the drill. You and your partner will get a card with your table number, introductions can happen there and where it goes after that is up to you! The Date Gone Wrong scenarios are here if you need a refresher. You can mingle with other participants at the bar; after all, this is all about meeting new people! Threadhop, tag around, tag someone you might not otherwise meet, have fun with it. Again, you don't have to use this post, you can make your own locked posts for your dates, but this should give you a good idea of the setting you have to work with. Amy will be close by if anyone needs her, and I will be available all night if anyone needs me! HAVE FUN. :D]

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Location: Deck 10, Forward: Lounge

madman_inabox

Three flips of a lever and one environment check later, the Eleventh Doctor stepped out of his TARDIS straight into what looked like a cargo bay of a very large spaceship. Which was not supposed to be what happened at all. He was supposed to be going to Arcateen V. The Butterfly People have a very lovely spring festival that was supposed to be taking place now, and after the mess of Trenzalore, and the Great Intelligence, he could use a very lovely Spring Festival.

But this was most certainly not Aracteen V. This was a cargo bay. A very, unspringlike cargo bay. How Disappointing. He turned to go back inside his ship, and found the doors to be locked. He huffed out an irritated sound and leaned against the doors. Just what he needed. A temperamental TARDIS.

Well, usually when she got like this, there had to be a reason he was where he was. There was always a reason.

After checking for his screwdriver, which he had safely tucked in his pocket with his So he went off in search of someone who could tell him where and when exactly he was. Thanks to his basic knowledge of how humans constructed things and a little bit of exploring he found himself at the door of Ten Forward.

One deep breath and straightening of his bow tie, the one with the vines, it was his favorite combination with the purple frock coat, he stepped through the door and looked around. A bar. Well, that was a bit anti climactic.

Ah well, Geronimo.

and_she_waited

The redhead has been sitting at a table for a while now.

She hasn't made a fuss or otherwise stood out too much, but the keen eye will know she's been looking more gutted as the minutes tick on. Not so long ago, her husband left the ship* — all fine and well, he's gone off to find the Doctor and their way back home, though why Amy couldn't go with him is still beyond her. She's actually hoping that Q character shows up so she can punch him in the nose.

He doesn't, though. But you know what does start happening? Happy, smiling faces. People falling in love (like really in love, what's that about?). Romance, dinners. Is it Valentine's Day?

"Oh, bollocks," she mutters, because now she misses Stupid Face even more.

She can't be the only one, though. Lots of people here have been taken far from home, lots more even who don't have anyone they know by their side. For a moment she takes some comfort in that, but then it gets her thinking. What about that lot? What are we supposed to do when all these people are mooning over each other in plain view?

She looks to the left. She looks to the right. And then Mrs. Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams climbs up on her chair and stands on the table and shouts so the whole room can hear her.

"All right, everyone! Listen up! Lots of us spent Christmas on this boat away from home, so I say if we're gonna be stuck here for another holiday while everyone's spoutin' love at each other, maybe we should get to know each other better. Those of us who're here alone or separated from our loved ones, that is. Well, anyone! Point is, Amy Pond's Dating Service is now open! If you want to meet someone, today's your lucky day," she says, with a grand sweep of her hand.

She dismounts and strides over to the bar to see if she can get some serviettes to write on. Oh, right. Paper isn't much of a thing here, is it? To the replicator it is.

A few minutes later, there's a sign sitting on her table in colourful reds and pinks, and she's holding a clipboard in her hands.

~*BLIND DATING SIGN-UPS*~

[ *There will be a PL posted soon with more info about that! ]

tanteiotaku

Akiko would have been proud to know that Shotaro had gotten busy on some self-promotion here on the Enterprise. It suited the starship's name, at any rate. With a few markers and his typewriter, he'd gotten together the rudiments of a promotional flyer. And then used the replicator to duplicate his work of art enough to leave on every table, most corridors, and even the turbolifts a flyer advertising his skills. "Narumi Space Detective Agency! Hard-boiled detectives Shotaro Hidari and Philip are here to solve the mysteries that plague the Enterprise! Specializing in lost pets since 2009! No case too big or small! Find us in rooms #0716 and #0726, or wherever the winds of trouble threaten the peace of this ship!"

No sooner had he gotten them all out there then did he see a small cluster of suckling pigs rush past him squealing. He stopped in place and watched them pass him the other direction, turning in place on one foot, his hands on his hips. This stank of Q. He was pretty sure leaving a bunch of pigs to wander a ship like this was a bad idea.

He deployed the Memory Gadgets. Spider created a pen for them, spanning the width of the corridor, only tall enough to keep them from climbing. Any person would be easily able to step over and through the small group of piglets, assuming they missed the mess they were making on the carpeting. Stag and Bat were providing backup in helping him corner pigs to get them into their corral.

Shotaro hadn't looked at a map to verify, but he hoped there wasn't anything critical down this hallway. It would be unfortunate if some officer or the other messed up their nice shoes.

Taking a break from rounding up pigs, he caught Stag in midair and pulled the memory out of it so he could call his partner. "Hey, Philip. What do pigs eat?"

((OOC: Down for any and all Christmas/Saturnalia shenanigans here. Bring your snow flurries, mistletoe, and general harassment toward the half-boiled detective.

partofaplan

The doors to Ten Forward open with their familiar noise and in slides in a man in a long, red, leather coat. He has his eyes shut, and is basically dancing pretty enthusiastically to music that is, no doubt, coming from the set of headphones around his ears.

In fact, those closer to him may pick up on the slightly tinny music coming from them.

He manages to groove a bit further into the lounge before stopping dead, opening his eyes and looking around.

To say he looks shocked is an understatement.

tea_earlgrey_hot

[Captain's Log: Wherein Captain Picard settles matters with Dr. Sk'Amor, following everyone's return to the Enterprise.]

Picard is relieved to say the least that nothing more serious transpired on Alemar III. It is bad enough to have his sickbay full of the wounded and malnourished; should any have died while on the planet, he would not have let Q pass without an extreme dressing down. Being powerless to return his visitors to their rightful time and place weighs heavy on the captain, their traumas all the more so. No doubt it will be a difficult few days of readjusting for all, and it is his duty to see to their needs during this time. Or perhaps he will delegate that to Counselor Troi and Commander Riker.

When the last shuttle returns from Alemar III, and Captain Picard is sure he can close the book on this particular chapter in their voyage, he allows himself a brief sigh of relief. He has an extremely competent crew, who will no doubt see to the needs of those who have returned. Indeed, he hopes a hot meal and a good night's sleep will aid in everyone's recuperation.

But he, of course, braces himself to take their anger should they feel inclined to complain.

Perhaps he should construct a model of Q that the travelers can pour their frustrations upon instead. It is something to think about.

[ooc: And that's it for our Alemar III plot, folks! Backtagging will continue on posts that have already been made, but following this all characters should be back on the Enterprise. You may use this post to establish your character's arrival back on the ship, but Picard won't be available for tags unless specifically requested. Thank you all!]

star_born

He should have been dead. He had thought that several times in his life, actually. But inside that chamber, poisoned with radiation, he really should have been dead. In fact, he knew he had died. He had felt it, the moment where he couldn’t hold his hand up to the glass anymore, the moment that his eyes lost vision, that singular moment where he was alone and scared. And then it was all gone. Blackness.

But then there were voices. Pike. His mother. His father. They were echoes, but loud enough to wake him.

And then he was awake. And there was light and Bones in white and Spock looking humble.

That had been almost a year ago. Now he was alive and well, hell, he was better than ever. At least physically. And maybe he had grown some mentally too. And maybe there were a few more emotional bruises too. But he was alive. And so many were not.

But the reminder only made him more restless. He missed his ship. He missed his stars. And they were his stars. It reminded him of a quote from The Grapes of Wrath, “...We were born on it, and we got killed on it, died on it. Even if it's no good, it's still ours. That's what makes it ours-being born on it, working it, dying on it.” It couldn’t have been truer for James Tiberius Kirk.

But they were grounded while repairs were still being made, while it was being prepped from the promise of a five-year mission that still had him giddy. And as he stared up at the skyline from his apartment window, he really wished he was back home.

...And then he was.

A literal blink of the eye and his scenery had suddenly changed. No longer was he leaning against the glass of his apartment window, but the thick glass of the Enterprise. His vision of buildings and vehicles and fading sun were gone, replaced with the pitch blackness of space and the scattered lights of stars.

It was so sudden that he was reeling backwards, eyes a little wide with surprise and disbelief. Damn, if only all of his wishes were granted so instantaneously.

“What the hell?” Was this real? He was still in his blue jeans, shirt, and leather jacket he had been in. He hadn’t had anything to drink, so this wasn’t one wicked hallucination. But the more he looked around, the more wrong he realized this was. The uniforms on crew members were different, faces unfamiliar. And was he in a bar? When the hell did his ship get a bar?

Maybe he really did die. That made as much sense as anything else at the moment.

blind_arrogance

The week had started so well. Dukat had received reports that the ore requirements were being filled once again, there hadn't been a riot on board the station in well over a month. Tora Naprem and his daughter Ziyal were safely aboard the Ravinok and on their way to Lisepia and the red leaf tea had been superb. Naturally, things had to go downhill. First there was the bombing and assassination attempt. Death threats were always so much fun, but when they also endangered the lives of those trusted into his care it was unconscionable. Odo swore he had the suspects, and the three were executed.

And that was that. Right? Of course it couldn't be so easy. Three days later, there was another bombing, and Dukat was starting to get used to the constant ringing in his ears. And then they lost contact with the Ravinok. Dukat studied the information on the PADD he was staring at, as if constantly glaring at it would change the information contained within. He let the Bajorans build their shrine.He had tried to help them become more self sufficient instead of relying on Cardassian generosity and what was he given in return? As thanks? Assassination attempts. Riots. And more pressure from Central Command.

Getting up from seat in his office, Dukat went over to the replicator. "Red leaf tea, please." It never hurt to say please and thank you. Even to replicators. Picking up the mug, he took a sip, and closed his eye briefly. And in that instant, the temperature changed, dropping at least 10 degrees Celsius. The lights were brighter too. Irritated, Dukat raised his comm to his lips.

"Dukat to Engineering. Would you care to explain your sudden inability to maintain climate control?" But, looking around, Dukat was quite sure the situation wasn't limited to climate control.

"Dukat to Terok Nor. Respond."

Taking stock of the situation it would appear he was far from Terok Nor. "Would someone like to explain why the Prefect of Bajor has been teleported onto a Federation ship? This is not the way to ensure peace talks. I assure you."

and_she_waited

Oh, so the engines are working again, are they? It's about bloody time. She can feel the shift in things as she's walking Deck 11 on her way to the holodecks. She hasn't been inside one yet, but she's heard other people (mostly Rory) going on about how great they are.

"All right, Computer," she says, stopping at the entrance to one and frowning at the console. "How do you work?"

What follows is a lengthy and aggravating conversation as she works out how the holodecks work, but not what they can do. They can't recognize any of the alien planets she asks about, and there's no place on Earth she's eager to go see. Definitely not Leadworth. Definitely not Venice. She might give Provence a go, but thinking about Vincent makes her melancholy, and from there her thoughts stray.

"Computer, can you make the TARDIS?" Beep. "That location is not on file." "Computer, can you make ... Gallifrey?" Beep. "That location is not on file." "Computer, can you ... can you make The Doctor?" Beep. "Specify Doctor." "Time Lord." "That species is not on file." "You're bloody useless then, aren't you?"

Dejected, Amy gives up on the holodecks and returns to Ten Forward. It's been too long. The Doctor should have come looking for her—come looking for them—by now. Where is he? It's not like Rory's been any help, going about the ship like a little boy oohing and ahhing and talking about warp drives and tricorders and god knows what else. She doesn't even know where he is right now.

No. She's on her own with this one. Again. No come along, Pond. Now it's come along, Doctor, and bloody hurry up with the TARDIS, will you? Maybe things will be different now that the ship is moving, but whatever the case she figures she's on her own finding her way back home. She watches the stars streak past the windows, sat at a table with a cooling cup of tea. It's no big deal. She's done it before.

She just wishes she didn't have to.

Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Location: Deck Ten: Forward (Lounge)

psychowolf

Clay exits his Porsche Boxster in the campus parking lot. As the front door slams shut, there is a flash of light. His muscles tense. When the light subsides, Clay lowers his arm and stands at the ready for attack. He uses his ears and nose to be aware of his surroundings, smelling and listening for approach as well as signs of his environment. He hears the sounds of glasses clinking, people laughing around him but not next to him, and the smell of food and drink all about. He finds this disconcerting given that he was in a parking lot seconds ago. Already on alert when his eyes clear, his head pivots and rotates around the room, orienting himself to this new place.

And so for the moment standing in the middle of Ten Forward is a man: lean, six foot tall, cropped blond curls, and wearing a sports jacket and jeans. Someone may want to tell him what is going on, though it would be best to approach with care.

[OOC: Clay is a werewolf, if your character isn't human then Clay will be able to smell it. Though he can't smell if you are a magic user. FYI, can hear conversations across the room. Thank you.]

captgreatcoat

[Torchwood Three, Cardiff, during episode 1.07, Greeks Bearing Gifts.]

Tosh is going to have to learn to believe in humanity herself. Nobody can instill that faith. However hard she's going to find it to learn, at least it won't be as hard -- or as costly -- as Jack's own lesson.

He shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he strides across Roald Dahl Plass, the breeze bringing the smell of the ocean in off the bay, ruffling in his hair and at the hem of his vintage RAF greatcoat.

Until suddenly, it isn't.

Jack's footsteps pause in mid-stride and he spins, hand going automatically to his holster to draw the Webley. The dim, warm light of the plaza at night is gone, just like the salt air and that playful little breeze. The sound of running water from the tower, the shape of the Millennium Centre with its hybrid verse spelled out in windows across its front.

Instead, he's in a bar.

A bar.

"What the hell?"

home_fires_burning

Sigyn's used to it.

It's how life in Asgard was, before her sons were murdered and her husband imprisoned--the constant reminders that they are outcasts, as though they could ever forget. People keeping their distance, finding sudden excuses to be anywhere else, even walking away when she's trying to talk to them. At best, she's spooky and her husband's annoying; at worst he's a criminal, dangerous enough to destroy the world, while she's an unpleasant reminder of things people would rather forget.

They'll manage. They've been through worse than this ship, after all--eventually they'll come to some suitable planet somewhere, and they'll leave. A planet with friendly, welcoming people, humble salt-of-the-earth types, who aren't looking for gods or advantages in war; somewhere the Sorrowful Mother and the Lord of No-One and Nothing can put down roots at last. There must be somewhere.

In the meantime, she's doing what any Norsewoman worth her salt would do: keeping busy. Drop spindles may be less efficient than spinning wheels, but they can be used while a woman is walking around, which is what she's doing now. Exploring the hallways of the ship, looking... and listening.

tanteiotaku

Shotaro frowned down at the PADD in his hands. He and Philip had been pouring over a map of the Enterprise for some time now. They had to decide on what kind of place would be best for them to investigate, and see if there was any information there waiting for them to find. Shotaro had done his best to respect the Captain's wishes, but he had never been all that patient.

"No, main Engineering has got to be crawling with all kinds of people, especially with the engines out," Shotaro countered, and paused to take a sip of his coffee. "This Astrometrics place sounds interesting, but pretty high-security, probably." Not that he had much of a clue of what that could be. There were only so many people a distraction caused by the Memory Gadgets could effect. So finding someplace small, close by, but still useful.

"What about over here?" He drug his finger around the display to highlight a room a deck up from Engineering. "Coming in that way from behind sounds painful but it might do the trick," he finished, pointing at a length of Jefferies tubes that would let them move undetected through the area.

rorypond

Three years easily becomes four or maybe five. Or maybe it's actually a hundred that becomes six and twenty, and when all is said and done, back to a firmer four.

Rory gets confused with time these days. It's hard to keep up, after all, when you're traveling around with the Doctor - which is where that four comes from. (It's that 'timey-wimey' ... thing the Doctor talks about a lot.) Four-ish years since his life was forever changed.

And it's been brilliant. It's become easier to take for Rory ever since his time in Milliways when the biggest event there - the Allpocalypse: the end of all of time and space - gave him a fair bit of perspective.

Oh, and 2,000 years of guarding a Pandorica would do that to you too.

It's also been stressful, dying and then coming back to life as a Roman, then facing death again and again until it feels like something of a sick joke. But who else can claim to have battled not-vampires, and spent their honeymoon on a starship in the 44th century, and had a run-in with Silurians and Cybermen?

Well, his wife can. Amy Pond.

The reason he'd gone on all these mad adventures to begin with was for her. It was a way for them to share something, and it became a way of life. He couldn't leave her while he went home even if he'd wanted to, and then he never wanted to anyway. She's - at the risk of sounding incredibly soppy and more than a bit foolish - his everything.

Which is why, when Rory suddenly finds himself on the Enterprise, he looks more like a man with purpose. And that's because he's got one. He and the Doctor have been looking for Amy, and this? Is just another stop on his hunt.

(Not that he's deliberately chosen this particular ship or anything, but ... man with a mission, and all that.)

To no one and everyone in particular, he asks - nay, demands: "Where. Is. My. Wife."

ten_fwd_npcs

Lieutenant Worf has gathered all of the new "guests" together in Ten Forward to instruct them on correct behavior and protocols now that they have been released from quarantine. He looks as happy and approachable as you might expect, which is to say he doesn't. It is his duty, and the captain's instructions, and so he will handle this riffraff the honorable way.

"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, and all command centers are off-limits."

This is chased by a stern look to all the gathered guests.

"With that in mind, there are a few rules you must obey before I give you your new assignments. 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.

"Copies of the Prime Directive will be made available to all of you, and placed in each room. As you are not Starfleet officers, you are not obligated to abide by this rule; however, it is important you understand why we do."

He takes a deep breath. Unless they show themselves to be undisciplined or unruly, it is the most he can do.

"Now, the rooms," he rumbles, reading aloud the list of quarters, their location, and the guests who will be sharing them.

Room # 0711 - Pyrrha and Trance Gemini
Room # 0712 - Caspian and Katherine Barlow
Room # 0713 - John Crichton and Eleanor Lamb
Room # 0714 - Butch Cassidy and Jack Twist
Room # 0715 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0716 - Shotaro and Amelia Pond
Room # 0717 - Loki and Sigyn
Room # 0718 - Zinda Blake and Natasha Romanoff
Room # 0719 - Stephanie Grace Rogers and Mireille
Room # 0720 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0721 - Lady Marian and Darcy Lewis
Room # 0722 - Ian Chesterton and Billy Cranston
Room # 0723 - Andros and Steve Rogers
Room # 0724 - Aeryn Sun and Booker DeWitt
Room # 0725 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL
Room # 0726 - Philip and Clint Barton
Room # 0727 - Sinthia Schmidt
Room # 0728 - Pavel Andreievich Chekov and Kate Newton
Room # 0729 - Leonard Horatio McCoy and Adam Park
Room # 0730 - TWO SECURITY PERSONNEL

"I will remain here to answer questions," Worf concludes. "And my team will be standing by to escort you where you need to be."

The list is also displayed on a PADD, where people can refer to it if they need to.

[ooc: This post is open for everyone to tag in and meet their new roommates and neighbors, "party post" style! Everyone should participate if and when they can, so they can get acquainted with who they will be rooming with for at least the next several months. 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 is an OOC post in the OOC comm where players can connect with questions and where we'll post more details about the rooms themselves, so check in over there! 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.]

and_she_waited

When I was a little girl, I had an imaginary friend. And when I grew up, he came back. He's called the Doctor, he comes from somewhere else; he's got a box called the TARDIS that's bigger on the inside and can travel anywhere in time and space. I ran away with him, and this is the story of how he changed my life...

You know that lovely sound a TARDIS makes? It's sort of a whoosh, or a hum, or a whoom-WHEEEM, rwhooom-REEEM? Some would say it's the loveliest sound in the universe, because it means something wonderful is coming.

Only this time, there is no sound. Just a step, and a little stumble, and a brand new room.

Amy blinks, freezing in the middle of Ten Forward.

"Doctor?" she calls, glancing about. "Rory? Doctor! Rory!"

Oh, what has he done now? If this is a joke, she's not going to laugh. Frankly, his sense of humour is abysmal. "Where am I?"

Current Location: Ten Forward Lounge

Ten Forward Social Lounge

Valentine's Day Blind Dates Party Post + Galentine's Day Dance!

In Ten Forward | Boredom leads to questionable hobbies... | OTA

Talk like a pirate day - this isn't how it was at all (open)

Not precisely Portabello Road, but...(OTA - Garak opens a shop!)

I stole a Time Lord and I ran away (Ten Forward - OTA)

Spaceship? Spaceship!

...and I create myself

[Personal Log]

Gym - OTA

The Captain, in the bar

Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter

Mrs. Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams Cordially Invites You to Get Your Freak On {Blind Date Mixer!}

The Doctor will See You Now....

Operation: Amy Pond's Blind Dating Service is a go!

Escape of the P// A Roman Holiday

Intro - Ten Forward

[Captain's Log:] Wrapping up Matters at Alemar III

First Arrival

(no subject)

Ten Forward | Boredom is a Many Splendered Thing (OTA)

Wolf On Deck: Entry Post

First entrance

In the hallways

Case 2: Finding the N // The Interrupted Investigation (Closed to Partners and Ponds)

(no subject)

[Ten Forward] Release from Quarantine and Rooming Assignments

First Entrance!

Ten Forward

Important Links

Tags

March 2016

Page Summary