Captain Dylan Hunt (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreams_dont_die) wrote2014-10-31 01:31 am
dreams_dont_die) wrote2014-10-31 01:31 am
Entry tags:
[ Personal Log ]: Hallowe'en
Dylan's not in Ten Forward when people's clothes start changing; he's in his room, sprawled across his bed reading one of Julian's books and taking notes on the flexi Trance had given him when he first arrived here. Building up his profile of the Federation, drawing parallels between it and the Commonwealth and, more importantly, drawing contrasts, has been taking up much of his time, when he can find the focus for it.
He does have other things on his mind.
He's set aside the PADD and flexi for a moment and headed into the main living area. He's standing in front of the replicator, because he's just asked for something to eat when ... something happens. Something that sets his senses straight to alert: another flash of light, like when he'd first arrived here. Reality doesn't shift around him, but his hand drops to his holster ...
Which suddenly isn't there. Instead, he's wearing a sheathed sword, and his uniform turtleneck and pants have been replaced by ... what? He turns away from the machine, heading back to his room to look himself over in the tiny mirror in the room to find that he looks like he's stepped out of an old Earth history lesson.
Like Lord Nelson or someone of his ilk.
That's rather a lot of ostentatious gold on the tailcoat he's wearing.
When he heads back into the living area to find the replicator's replaced the salad he'd asked for with something that looks like a bowl of confectionery, he glares at it.
"Lucie?"
Well, this is just great.
He does have other things on his mind.
He's set aside the PADD and flexi for a moment and headed into the main living area. He's standing in front of the replicator, because he's just asked for something to eat when ... something happens. Something that sets his senses straight to alert: another flash of light, like when he'd first arrived here. Reality doesn't shift around him, but his hand drops to his holster ...
Which suddenly isn't there. Instead, he's wearing a sheathed sword, and his uniform turtleneck and pants have been replaced by ... what? He turns away from the machine, heading back to his room to look himself over in the tiny mirror in the room to find that he looks like he's stepped out of an old Earth history lesson.
Like Lord Nelson or someone of his ilk.
That's rather a lot of ostentatious gold on the tailcoat he's wearing.
When he heads back into the living area to find the replicator's replaced the salad he'd asked for with something that looks like a bowl of confectionery, he glares at it.
"Lucie?"
Well, this is just great.