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TEST DRIVE MEME #4
1. you will survive being bested
[you wake up.
it doesn't matter where you were before. going to bed? dying? opening the door to face a great evil? same result. you wake up in a soft bed with starched sheets in a cool, darkened room, sunlight peeking out from behind thick curtains. maybe you're alone; maybe you aren't. maybe you immediately notice the folded paper on the bedside table near your head. if you don't, you better fix that real quick: you won't be able to even open the door before you read it.
the note itself is written in a neat hand on white card stock; there is a stylized logo of a ship with the words SERENA ETERNA printed underneath. the note reads as follows:
Dear Passenger(s),
As your cruise director, it is my great honor to welcome you aboard the Serena Eterna, your destination for fun and adventure! We know you could have chosen any cruise line for your vacation, and we're very grateful you chose ours! On behalf of the Captain, I would like to assure each and every passenger that will we do whatever it takes to fulfill all your needs and desires during your journey with us.
At your earliest possible convenience, please attend the mandatory lifeboat drill by the end of the day. I'm sure everyone is very eager to get started on all the fun and sun, but safety always comes first! You can find your life jacket in your cabin's closet; carry it to your assigned muster station on deck one, where I will take you through the drill. If you can't find me in the crowd, just look for the gal with the winning smile!
See You Real Soon!
Sincerely,
Gal Friday
you walk to deck one. you have no other choice: every time you try to step in a direction some unseen being considers "not towards deck one," you find your legs no longer move, staying stock still, frozen. whether compelled quickly by curiosity, or delayed by pure stubbornness, the result is the same, and you are left milling around with other similarly curious or stubborn people.
you see someone in uniform near the front of the crowd. she seems to be a gal, but is missing the winning smile, along with most of her other features. she seems to see you, though, rushing to your side and placing a lei around your neck with great formality. a voice, cheery but artificial, sees to come from nowhere and everywhere.]
Welcome! We're... I'm very glad to have you aboard!
[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.
after the drill is completed, you are seemingly free to go. or, well, your legs work, now. and maybe that's as good as it's gonna get.]
2. think about how many times I have fallen
[for the most part, no one has given the elevators much thought. they've all done their job reliably and dutifully this entire time, never so much as being blocked off for maintenance.
until today, when the doors close behind you as you enter, and don't open again.
for the most part, that's all that happens. the doors can't be pried open, or broken with force or magic, and though the glass walls remain stubbornly shatterproof, you can look through them and try to get the attention of anyone outside. (Friday, down in the atrium, sees your desperately pounding fists and gives a wave, but does nothing else.) the elevators don't move... except, when they do. going up two or three stories, and then dropping, sometimes as many as five stories at a time, stopping just as suddenly.]
3. it was the easiest thing to do
["physically assaulting people is an easy way to get attention" was probably a very bad lesson for the neglected locations to have learned, but it they did it anyway.
this time, it's the sushi restaurant on the promenade, Mikabo. it turns out, the conveyor belt can go faster than one would assume. much faster, actually, with the apparently ability to stop on a dime. both of these factors have combined to create what is functionally a pitching machine, but for dragon rolls, wads of wasabi paste, and exceedingly sharp steak knives, all of which are being aimed at anyone foolish enough to walk by the doors of the restaurant without coming in.
its aim, at the very least, doesn't seem to be the best. for now. because it very much seems like it's getting better.]
no subject
"Well from now on, your way is my way." It feels even better to say it. It feels reckless to say it. Foolish to say it. But if they are co-captains he has every right to say and so he will. His eyes are bright and if they seem a little unhinged it's because that's how he feels.
"What do you plan to do about it?"
no subject
The only thing- the only thing that stops him- is the knowledge of Edward's fury if that happens and it isn't by his direct order.
He takes a step to the side and Stede blocks him. He tries again to the other side and is met with the same result. When it's clear that this isn't going to end, he squares up his small but imposing stature to speak.
"I don't know what you think is happening right now but I can assure you of this. You are not my captain. I will not, and won't ever, serve under the hand of Stede fucking Bonnet."
no subject
Only he can't lose it either. If he loses, too much will go with it. And he had made promises to Ed too. Promises that mean he has to be strong and, if not win Izzy's respect by force, at least hold him to the place he has. They are not equals and they never will be and they can't be.
And now he understands a bit of Ed more, of that pressure of expectation. Of needing to be something more than you were, or something you weren't. But if he has to lose more to protect what he needs to then, fine. He'll lose it all if he needs to. Here he can't afford to keep it.
"Well we're co-captains, which means we work together, so get used to it."
He reaches out to grip the cutlass, wincing without meaning to as the sharp edge cuts into his fingers. Fortunately there are bandaids because he can already feel his blood slip over his skin and patter to the deck. If it gets on Izzy's shoes or not, he can't tell.
"And we have a crew that someone needs to look out for." In ways that he and Lucius can't and that Ed shouldn't have to.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Posturing really hurts. How the hell can Ed do it so much?
Well he already has respect, doesn't he? That's why he doesn't even have to try.
"So if you can't handle it, then you can go find another crew, just like you left Ed's."
no subject
Izzy looks from Stede to his bleeding grip, eyes wide. Literally what the fuck, why would you do that. You don't know where his blade has been, you don't know how many people he's stabbed today. So many people. So many!
And he'd say something or yank his blade back just to teach Stede a lesson for touching the sharp end and take a few fingers with him, but that last bit makes his guts boil.
"Left? You're fucking joking me, I was forced to go! On a fucking technicality for no god damn reason! You have no idea what I can handle. And that's got fuck all to do with captain or co-captain, or whatever fucking friendship bracelets and daisy chains you want to do because you have no idea what the fuck else you're meant to be doing. Fucking fuck!"
Can he swear any more in this moment? Let's find out.
To prove his point Izzy turns the blade in his grip back towards himself, dragging into the flesh of the cuts Stede has made all on his merry own. Yield or lose them. Your choice.
"My one and only concern has always, and will always be, Edward. There is no question where my loyalty lies. What my motivation is. You can not look at me and think that I haven't given everything I am to that man. And you're daring me to leave? Get fucked."
no subject
"Ow ow ow shit-" he follows the blade as best he can but has to let go because he doesn't actually want to lose his fingers - because how is he going to explain it to Ed for one thing? He won't be able to. And there's nowhere for any of them to go. And he's pretty much failed this which just goes to show that Ed is patronizing him for whatever reason saying he's any good at this.
"Fine. Fine, you little shit bag. But if you hurt him I'll make you regret it. And don't think killing me is going to do anything either because I'll keep coming back and I won't rest until-- you regret it." Damnit.
He does his best not to bleed on himself as that's going to raise questions. He's going to need more than bandaids... but he's sure as hell not going to John for this. He'll figure out something and maybe no one will even notice once it stops bleeding. He watches it drip to the deck, feeling slightly ill, trying to ignore the chill that's gripped him. He might have lost but he refuses to feel afraid of this.
"Good. Fine. Keep him safe. Watch his back." Better than Stede can. "And let him be whatever he wants to be because that's what he needs right now. This ship doesn't need Blackbeard. No one can die. It won't work and he'll just tire himself. It needs someone better."
And that person will be Ed. He's sure of it.
no subject
He doesn't know a world where a ship doesn't need Blackbeard. It's impossible to envision. And while he doesn't comment on the plea it will sit heavy in his mind when he finally does find the man he's looking for.
Izzy gives a disappointed cluck at the blood on his sword and produces from his pocket a small handkerchief which he uses to clean it before it's stowed.
Not in the frame of mind to parse out threats and promises or exact details of previous happenings with Stede, he disengages. The silence is victory enough. Stede's words hanging in the air are victory enough. Izzy Big Dick Hands is back in town and there's nothing Stede or anyone else can do about it.
"You should get that looked at," he says, meaning the wounds.
"A cut like that can take your fingers just as swift as a blade."
Is it mercy? Maybe. He hasn't quite worked out the give and take in this unfortunate relationship and he doesn't like that at all. So he prepares to leave.
"Maybe get some rest. Look like you've seen a ghost."
no subject
"This isn't the end of this, you know," he says even as he decides that's true. He won't give up until things are settled in a way he's comfortable with. And it can start with:
"For now, you're dismissed." And he walks into John's, trailing blood behind him, and the music and sounds and screens in there make it even worse for the buzzing in his ears but that's fine. Whatever happens in here is fine.
If he can't be strong enough to make things how they ought to be than he kind of deserves what he gets.