sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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!tdm

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He isn't armed. Unless she's scared of being beaten to death with a life jacket, which seems unlikely. If it was brought up, he's probably make a joke about being one-armed, so it's probably for the best it wasn't brought up.

Dylan looks up at where the voice is coming from, blinking in surprise. "Huh?" he answers, confused. "Oh, no, that's not..."

Hmm. Fuck it, right? "This is mostly werewolf blood." Mostly.

"Werewolf?" — Never heard of 'em!

(jinx throws herself off the cool steel and makes a hard landing on the wooden platform of the deck. she wastes no time to get in his personal space -- in fact, the way she moves to him is a bit inhuman. one minute she was standing a few feet from them and then next? her body becomes a blur with a pink streak trailing along the air.

despite him being way taller (she's 5'4), she peers up to him with wide eyes -- the pinks glistening just a little with such interest.)

But I'm guessin' you fought it off, huh?

(her attention then falls to his wrist.)

Is that how you lost that or you've always been a righty?

Dylan definitely jumps back a bit when she zooms up to him. He's not feeling quite so adrenaline-filled as he was before he woke up here, but he's still pretty on edge. And then of course she just keeps getting in his space. She doesn't seem threatening though, so he tries not to pull back even further. (Even that was definitely weird. But it's a dream, so it's fine, right? Right?)

"Umm... Kind of. It's a long story," he answers. Somehow she doesn't seem like the kind of person who has the patience for a long story.

(and he would be exactly right! if a story is way longer than a few sentences, she'll get immediately bored. everything needs to be the fast lane for her and straight to the point. still though, jinx hums gently as a response with her eyes still pretty glued to the nonexistent hand -- the bandages to be precise.)

Looks like you're gonna need a fresh one.

"A... a fresh hand?" he asks, not realising she's looking at the bandages specifically. "I mean, sure, if you've got one lying around."

(blowing raspberries with her lips, jinx giggles while shaking her head. oh, he's funny! she likes that! )

No, silly! I mean your bandages. But hey, might not be too far of a stretch...! Who knows if we go to the morgue, we can probably snatch one up. That is if ya up for that.

(finally, she takes a few steps back up to give them a little space. she places her hands on her hips and rocks back and forth on the heel of her boots. )

— OR we can head over to the infirmary and I can fix you up with a new bandage. You put me in the good mood so I'll help ya out. You can pay me back later.

Why does he kinda feel like he should be on edge around her? It must be his defensive instincts going into hyperdrive. He's definitely gonna have PTSD after all this, right?

"I uh, I think the infirmary is probably the best bet," he answers, nodding nervously. She was joking right? Just a dark sense of humor. That's fine.

He gestures vaguely for her to lead the way. Should he be taking medical help from this person? Probably not, but if it's a weird coma dream, what does it matter?

And it's your lucky day 'cuz it's not far from here!

(and thus, she takes the lead! her hands intertwine behind her back as she hums a tone. looking over her shoulder, jinx flashes him a friendly grin as she introduces herself:)

The name's Jinx, by the way. And it stands for Jinx, in case you're wonderin'. What's yours?

"Dylan," he answers, more or less on auto-pilot. "Which stands for Dylan," he echoes her, following along after her. For someone who's recently had his hand cut off, and definitely lost a fair amount of blood, he doesn't actually look too bad. He needs like, a few days worth of sleep properly, but he looks to be doing reasonably alright, once you look past the blood.

"Dylan"....

(she lets his name roll off her tongue for a moment. the name sounds pretty ordinary which means it needs to be something else! but what?)

Once I get to know you, I'll come up with a nickname! Dylan sounds pretty... bleh.

(and as they walk, jinx occasionally lets her fingertips trail along the railing; glancing over to the ocean.)

I guess I oughta tell ya about this place while we're walking. Anything you wanna know?

He blinks at him just insulting his name like that. Like, ok, chill... He's fine with nicknames though. Well. Depends what it is.

"Uuhhh," he answers, trying to find of a question. There's like a million things he's confused about, so it's hard to find anything that's pressing. "What's with the faceless lady?"

Oh, you mean No Face? She's not human. She's sorta like the Captain's puppet...thing. He controls her and all that. 'Least from what I know.

(there's more information about friday, of course but ahh details. sometimes the "secret meeting" the crewmates set up where they share information among themselves get so drawn out and dull. so it flows through her ears -- in and out the other.)

"She didn't look like No Face..." he comments, mostly to himself, thinking of the Ghibli character.

"What about you? What's your deal?" he asks, leaving the question vague so she can fill in whatever seems important or interesting to mention.

Huh? Me?

(jinx spins around to face him but doesn't stop moving. in fact, she'll just walk backwards while addressing him. one would think this probably wouldn't be the best idea but she's been on this boat for five months now, she has this place mapped out by memory.)

There's nothin' much to me. I like to shoot things and blow stuff up buuut this place is a real buzzkill with that. Every time I shoot at somethin', it just regenerates. Nooooot really fulfilling.

"Huh," he answers curiously. "Yeah, I can imagine that's frustrating."

If your goal is to destroy something. He doesn't really see the point himself. But he can understand being frustrated with your progress being taken away.

If he were taking this to be more than a dream, he might be questioning spending time with this girl a bit more.

(while he might be questioning that, jinx already decided that yes, this newcomer will be someone she will interact with for the rest of her days. she finally leads them to the end of the hallway. there are two paths, the stair case and a glass elevator. ~~which option will you choose? your action will have consequences.~~ jinx makes her way to the elevator and presses the button for it to open; stepping right on in.)

Extremely frustrating!! But 'least I can make explosives. — If I couldn't do that then I would reeeaaallly go bonkers. I mean, I'm already kinda crazy but that would mean SUPER KA-POW crazy.

As long as she doesn't blow him up, he'll consider it. She certainly doesn't seem boring. Dylan can't help but smile a little at the way she talks.

"What kind of explosives?" he asks curiously. He finds it interesting that she makes them herself.

Y'know! Bombs, TNT, dynamite, things like that. Haven't used them really here except that one time. But it was life or death situation so had to pull the pin and bombs away!

(the elevator then goes down to some lower levels of the boat as jinx rests her back against the nice cool glass. it feels nice against her skin with it being the weather being hot on and off.)

OH! — this one I'm workin' on are these chime monkey toys and I'm modifying 'em to be explosives. They're also motion senor so that way if someone or something is comin' my way? Ding, ding, goood-bye!

Dylan blinks at that description. That's delightfully horrifying. Also, remind him to not visit her unannounced.

"You make TNT?" he asks, incredulous. "Like, actual tri-nitro...thingy? That's really, stupidly complicated chemistry." Not to mention unbelievably dangerous, especially without a proper lab. Does she have a proper lab? On a cruise ship?

Yeah, I'll say! I mean, back home, all that stuff was easy to get and make. Here? It's a lil' more challenging. So far, I got these guys —

(she peels herself off the glass wall to dig in her back pocket. and what she pulls out is a very miniature sphere.)

It won't leave too much of an impact. Maybe enough to spook someone but no real damage. It's a bummer. Buuuuut if I can make these more wild and stick 'em in my monkeys? It'll be the perfect darling.

"That's pretty cool.." he comments appreciatively. "So like firecrackers, kinda?" It doesn't look like a firecracker in any way, but he woke up on a cruise ship, so who's he to question it.

Dylan holds out a hand in a wordless request to look at one.

Bingo!

(happily, she moves on over and plants it in his hand for a closer look.)

You can keep that one if ya want. I like you so call it "welcome aboard" gift...! 'Sides, this ship gets crazy really fast and you never know when somethin' bad is gonna happen and you need to buy yourself some time.

Edited 2022-07-01 15:55 (UTC)

Dylan inspects it curiously, trying to figure out how it works, though it's not immediately obvious to him -- well, presumably the insides are just some combination of chemicals.

"Oh, uh. Thank you," he answers, surprised. Having some kind of defense actually makes him feel a little better. "Do you just like smash it?"

Yep! Just toss it down or at someone and it'll do the trick. It'll activate once there's a lotta force to it. So if you're gonna throw it at someone, be sure you throw it hard.

"Dope," he answers with a nod, pocketing it, then stooping to pick up the life jacket again. Having one hand is really inconvenient. And while there's a voice in his head that says it doesn't matter, this is just some elaborate hallucination (which he's still clinging to), he's been a camp counselor for two months and he can't just abandon his life jacket.

wheee!!

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