Mingle Log!

[notscrapmetal]

When; July 5th through July 7th!
Rating; G+
Characters; Open to ALL, 4th Wallers and Citizens!
Summary; The celebrations continue, and the Anonymous regime has summoned guests that Citizens might (not) prove very thrilled to see! As opposed to other Fourth Wall events, all visiting characters will have been invited to the City, or they must arrive here of their own will.

Mingle! Explore~!

Log;

There's so much to do and so much to see in this City of cities. From tromping through Xanadu, long walks along the shore, shopping in the Square, hunting in the forest, meeting a contact in the Underground, or getting as many answers as possible at the Welcoming Center how can anyone decide on just one. In three days time so much can be done!

Shops and restaurants are having specials. Happy hour has become happy days in some bars. This is quite the occasion! When the City decides to celebrate, it becomes contagious. Why not smile and strike up a conversation with a stranger? After all, a stranger is a friend you haven't met yet.

Comments

[first_officer]

[This away mission is rather unexpected and more than a little unsettling, but you wouldn't know it to look at the dark-haired Starfleet officer making her way about town. Her uniform is a bit out of date, though the insignia's unmistakable. She's wearing a careful, cautious expression, and rarely ventures any information unasked.

Through the course of the weekend she can be found walking around or sitting in any numbers of bars and restaurants, watching the ersatz locals and pretending to nurse a drink. Observation is the name of the game, not interference.]

[khandothat]

[He is superior. He is a superior being. He is THE superior being.

He is a scared teenaged boy. He'd accepted the invitation here because it had sounded like fun, but he can't find any of his other crew members and it makes the experience a lot less exciting and a lot more scary.

He reaches out to grab a drink -- none of these inferior beings can tell him he's too young, HAH! -- and accidentally bumps into a woman.]

AAAAAAH!

[first_officer]

[She's startled- less by the bumping and more by the shouting- and she shoots him a look, which very swiftly softens a bit. He's only a boy, really.]

You might watch where you're going.

[khandothat]

I am so -- [Wait. No. He's not sorry. She's not the First Officer; she's just one of those lowly humans. Why should he apologize to her?

He straightens, trying to appear proud and regal like the real Khan.]

You should not speak to me like that. You are the one who should watch where you're going!

[It doesn't work on him.]

[first_officer]

[Kid, you ought to be sorry.

She doesn't even bat an eyelash-- and the batting of these eyelashes, believe you me, is a force to be reckoned with. There's a long pause while she lets it settle, the impression of just how not impressed she is, before she points out:]

I wasn't going anywhere.

[khandothat]

[.......maybe she is one of his crew, one whom he hasn't met yet. She's certainly as intimidating as Khan's first officer.]

Yes. Well. You should not have been in my way.

[His voice gets weaker, not backed by any kind of real conviction.]

[first_officer]

[The truth is, the people who end up being told off by Number One are the lucky ones. A verbal chastisement is nothing.

She just looks him in the eye, unmoving, fearless... and still unimpressed. Because really, that's ridiculous. Don't you feel ridiculous now?

Let it soak in.]

[khandothat]

My name is Khan Noonien Singh! [No it's not.] Who are you?!

[first_officer]

[It seems unlikely. You're awfully pale. Her doubt isn't terribly obvious... but you can probably infer it, super-boy.]

A Starfleet officer.

[Tight-lipped, this one.]

[khandothat]

I've never heard of Starfleet. Are all of you so rude? [Yes he can sense your doubt and IT GREATLY OFFENDS HIM.]

[first_officer]

If you consider it rude that we expect to be treated with common respect.

[khandothat]

Why? You're just a human. A murderous, barbaric, ignorant species. What respect do you deserve?

[countrydoctor]

[Leonard McCoy is looking for a drink of his own in one of the quieter bars in the City when a flash of familiar gold catches his eye. The uniform is a couple years out of date and he doesn't recognize the woman inside of it, but it's refreshing to see an officer who hasn't just cut her first teeth.

The CMO pulls up a bar stool a respectful distance away and orders a straight bourbon whiskey. In McCoy's humble opinion, there's no good way to approach a woman in a bar. His standard-issue Starfleet scrubs give his affiliation away; if the lady's inclined to talk to an old medic, he'll be happy to oblige. He's not inclined to strike up a conversation himself when doing so might look like some kind of proposition. That's Jim's operation, not his.]

[first_officer]

[Enough of a gentleman not to be too gentlemanly. She can respect that. Not that she'd take it amiss if he spoke up-- she's done this long enough to know how to strike a balance, most of the time, between being one of the boys and being a well-adjusted woman. (Most of the time.)

She casts a sidelong glance at him, at his clothes-- truth be told it's a bit of a relief, even if she remains a landing party of one, to see something familiar. So she turns toward him slightly, politely.]

Doctor, [she says with a tip of her head, cool but not unfriendly.]

[countrydoctor]

[He likes her. Professional, collected, level-headed in spite of being shoved into some godforsaken dimension full of kids from other timelines--that's admirable. The woman's stripe marks her as a lieutenant, but there's a steel in her demeanor that speaks of power and competence far beyond that rank.]

Lieutenant. Is this your first rodeo?

[first_officer]

[Might that be a twitch of a smile? She's not exactly the demonstrative type-- that's partly her nature, and partially the mark of long service on her. Listen before speaking, think before acting.]

You could say that, [she replies, dryly amused. Rodeo indeed. This place is about as predictable as a wild bull.] Are you a regular?

[countrydoctor]

It isn't my first trip down the rabbit hole, but I wouldn't say I'm a regular. [Three times doesn't make him a regular, does it? He has no intention of becoming any such thing.]

Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer.

[first_officer]

[Three times might be pushing it. At least he's not a Citizen, though-- that's a thought that disturbs her. Captivity, no matter how pleasant, is an outrage.]

Robbins, [she says, after the slightest hesitation. She's been tight-lipped. On the Enterprise, she rather prefers Number One; it's at once familiar and intimidating. She's earned both qualities.] First officer of the Enterprise.

[countrydoctor]

[The City's a nice enough place, but McCoy wouldn't want to live here.]

Enterprise? I'm stationed on her myself. [There's no incredulity in his tone--after all, he has had conversations with himself here--but it's still something of a surprise.] The pleasure's mine, Robbins.

[first_officer]

She's a popular ship, apparently. I spoke with an Ensign Chekov.

[He sounded young, she almost adds, but that seems rather rude. He seemed competent for all that.] It's a pleasure, but a strange one, if you don't mind my saying so.

[countrydoctor]

Which--? No, you wouldn't have any reason to know which one. As if this place wasn't enough of a mess without adding extra timelines! [He's a doctor, not a physicist. Different times and different versions of people--of him--give him a headache.]

It's unusual alright, and I can't fault you for stating the truth.

[first_officer]

He did mention something about timelines, [she replies, her agreement implicit. Is it really so much to ask, to meet one person who might know who she is?] but I don't know any more than that. Are you a-- contemporary of his?

[cheeky word choice, yes.]

[countrydoctor]

[Har har.]

I'm a contemporary of one of him. He's an infant in every dimension.

[valedictory]

[Here's a dashing nervous young Ensign from some time ahead of her - from some time ahead of most of those here, it seems, and the pesky matter of the Temporal Prime Directive is nagging at the back of his duty-driven mind. He and Tom have been sampling the very best of what this dimensional hub of a City has to offer - which, for them, means a whole lot of food that isn't cooked by Neelix. The Delta Quadrant does have a way of lowering one's expectations in certain areas.

He's on his own, though, when he comes across her at a bar. Her uniform is clearly Starfleet but it takes him a moment of mentally reviewing history courses from the Academy before he recognizes the exact style - even more out of date than those Kirk and Spock were wearing. He doesn't recognize the wearer, but he does give her a small and polite smile, with a nod of acknowledgement. No harm being friendly.]

Lieutenant.

[first_officer]

[She may be thinking, it's rather infuriating being at a constant disadvantage due to uniform changes. She may have to enlist one of the thousand young future ensigns for a history lesson. She may be thinking, she's going to have to say something, if he's from the Enterprise. She's counted at least three distinct Enterprise crews that aren't hers, though it's tricky to tell how they overlap. There are thise that seem more familiar and others which are less. This young man falls decidedly in the latter camp.

None of this shows, of course. She nods politely to greet him.]

I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage.