sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She seems to know more or less what she's doing, so he's gonna trust her. He only makes a slight face as she starts carefully peeling off the bandages, but he doesn't flinch. It doesn't hurt too much.

The weird thing, which she probably notices before him, is... Well, it definitely doesn't seem to be bleeding. In fact, it's. Well, it's not healed, exactly. But it is kind of scarred over.

(it is rather weird because she was expecting it to be very bloody to say the least but... none at all. the appearance doesn't phase her at all, either. she's seen and done worse to people when it comes to injuries and killings so her reaction is simply blinking with her head cock to the side.

carefully, she lifts his arm up just to be double sure there's no extra leakage coming from anywhere unknown before gently setting it back down.)

Alright. I'll let it air out for a few minutes. Let it the wound breathe then I'll wrap it back up. — Should probably look into cleanin' yourself up and new clothes. There's this new place called, uh, "Tommy Bahama"? It's got gross clothes but it's somethin'!!

Dylan watches her, then curiously looks down at his hand as she speaks - or rather where his hand should've been. He only vaguely registers his recommendations at that point. (Something something clothes and -- ugh, Tommy Bahama.)

"...Huh," he comments, still looking at his wrist. "That's weird." He looks down at his right arm too, where the bite was. The wound there is completely gone. "Huh," he repeats.

Aaarreee you okay?

(she begins to ponder for a moment. because what if, hypothetically, the captain snatched him up right after this horrific whatever happened to him? could it be possible he's still in distress? shock? he did mention he was on painkillers so it's quite probable he is highly under the influence of the said drug.

normally jinx wouldn't be the type to care but as she said before, she likes him. he's doesn't hate her immediately so that's always a big plus in her book.)

Edited 2022-07-02 04:14 (UTC)

"Huh?" he asks, looking up at her. "Oh, yeah, I just think I might be.. a bit too okay, you know?" He gives a shrug and then gestures a bit with his stumped wrist. "This thing kinda happened, like, a few hours ago."

...But also yes, he definitely has not fully processed what has happened to him. And he probably won't, for like a while. Especially if he keeps pretending this is a dream. (The longer it goes on, the less likely it seems.)

[ooc: PS I just apped Dylan]

(a few hours ago. okay, so definitely her hypothesis is correct. maybe not immediate but definitely still in a state of shock. at least now she knows how to go on about this.)

Yeah, I get it.

(she doesn't truly but it's best to seem understanding despite not at all. to listen and to not speak so much. give him room to talk and express if need be. )

I'm gonna get a cloth or somethin' for you. Sit tight, alright?

(jinx then moves back to the main counter in search of something to at least have him to wipe the blood off his face.)

(ooc: yaaaaaaay! hopefully he can be jinx's gay guy friend. talk about cute boys and idk other things.)

Just wait till she finds out his friend died in front of him like 15 minutes before he got here or something. Not that Dylan has any plans of bringing that up. He'd prefer not to think about it at all. Which is why he's clinging to distractions and company right now.

He also specifically meant physically okay. He's well aware he's not emotionally or mentally okay. It's daytime now, but he guesses the werewolf infection has been healing him even if he never had a chance to turn... Another frightening thought he doesn't want to grapple with right now.

He stays seated, but he does poke a little at his wrist where the wound should be. It still hurts, and it looks weird and gross, but it definitely doesn't look like it was just chopped off earlier that day.

"Wait, I don't have any money," he says, looking over at her. "...For the clothes," he adds after a second.

(ooc: yes!! do each other's nails. combine their powers of explosives and science nerdery. gay guy friend stuff.)

(finding a rag, jinx goes to the sink to soak it before glancing over her shoulder.)

Oh! You don't gotta worry about that. Money is nonexistent here. You sorta just... go through the motions of "checking out" and then that's it.

(the whole checking out process is a little strange to her. because where she's from, there's no lines or registers. citizens wander through the marketplace, go to a booth, see what they're selling and either exchange it with gold or something valuable you have on your person.

and once she rings out the extra water out of the cloth, jinx cautiously makes her way back to dylan. another thing to note if someone is in state of shock, to approach carefully and slowly. in which she wished she knew that before hand but what's done is done. she extends the cloth out to him.)

Here ya go.

Edited 2022-07-02 17:11 (UTC)

Money is non-existent? Well, that's wild. Dylan's never had problems with money, so it's more of a point of interest than a major relief.

He does note that Jinx is behaving quite differently now than she did when they met. Which he appreciates, but at the same time it feels kind of weird, after having people running around with guns and whatnot all night.

"Thanks," he answers, accepting the cloth. He wipes away the remains of blood on his injured arm first, even if he doesn't think it's that necessary, if there's no wound to be infected. Then he wipes at his face and neck, to get the worst of it away.

"So, where exactly are you from?" he asks curiously. He wants distractions, and she said something about it being easy to get TNT where she was from.

Zaun. It's an underground city from Piltover. It's the most amazing place in the world where the air filled with pollution, water might have some gross stuff in it, and you get to pick out the mold pieces from your meals. If ya want coins, you gotta either steal or trade up somethin'.

(her tone is obviously sarcastic because this amazing "city" sounds absolutely horrid. and it is -- well, it's in the progress of getting better.)

— A lotta times you get scammed or you gotta rough up a few people so you can live another day. The people are pretty colorful, though! A lotta gangs and kooky people in every corner. But 'least it never stays boring.

Edited 2022-07-02 22:34 (UTC)

Dylan stares at her as she describes it. That is miles away from his own experiences. Maybe not the pollution stuff, and... Well, there are definitely people who live like that in New York City. Definitely not him though.

"Wow," he answers, not entirely sure what to say. "That sucks, dude, I'm sorry."

Don't sweat about it! My old man is workin' on improving my city so soon it won't be like that.

(getting tired of standing, jinx will now sit on the floor -- sitting cross legged with her hands in her lap.)

Whaaaaaat about you? Gimme the details of Dylan. — What else is there 'sides the fact he can fight off werewolves?

"Uhhh," he answers, not sure even where to begin. "Well, first of all, saying I can fight them off might be a little strong," he answers, lifting his lack-of-hand. There was an incident with a blow torch, but mostly he's just been using his environment, no fighting involved.

"I dunno, I'm just a soon to be college student," he answers with a shrug. "Hopefully," he adds. "Been spending summer being a camp counselor for kids. The werewolf thing is a.. recent development. Like. Half a day kind of recent."

(she listens to him attentively and not trying to interrupt. letting him have the floor may help him workout his own thoughts, feelings, and maybe ease off the shock he is in. although, jinx snorts a little when he mentions the camp counselor part.)

If only you had stopped by a month ago! We were havin' our lil' summer camp thing here. Had counselors and everything! I would had love for you to be my counselor for my cabin. — You seemed preettty chilled and funny.

"I also have the best music," he answers with a grin.

At that comment he has a thought, and he pulls out his phone from his pocket. There's almost no battery left. More importantly, there's no bars. He's zero percent surprised.

"How do you even has summer camp on a cruise ship?" he asks suddenly, just realising.

It wasn't on the ship! The boat stopped at an island and we had the camp there. Cabins, doing craft stuff, rope climbin', swimmin' in the lake, we even had a dance!

(she then begins to swim warmly thinking back on it.)

— Gotta say, it was actually pretty fun. And if ya got the best music, I'll have to hear it. I got some a few good ones, too.

Oh, that makes a lot more sense. And it's also the stuff he loves about summer camp. He went there for a few years before he was actually a counselor himself.

At the mention of wanting to hear the music, he opens his party playlist on the phone and starts a random track, then puts the phone down. He doesn't quite have the brain capacity to be picky about it. (Although if he were to put his energy towards something, honestly it would be that.)

He's not sensible enough to conserve what little battery he has left. There's no signal anyway, and his mind is torn between the justifications that he can find a charger somewhere around here, and it doesn't matter because it's a weird dream anyway.

(music time? oh she can totally dig with this. while jinx enjoys talking and rambling on every now and then, some quiet time is always good, too. so she doesn't mind sitting here quietly while the two of him jam out to some tunes he has on his phone. much later, she'll have to let him know that he is able to charge his phone in his cabin. or well now, he has two phones.)

Dylan idly sits there wiping at his face and his arms and some of his hair while they're listening, then gets up to rinse the rag a bit.

It occurs to him suddenly that he might be rinsing away the last he'll ever see of Abi and Kaitlyn, maybe even Nick, and he has to take a moment to steady himself, closing his eyes and leaning against the sink.

(jinx is nodding her head to the beat of the song until she sees in her peripheral vision of dylan struggling. trying not to rush too quickly, she gathers up to her feet and cautiously makes her way over to him.)

Hey.

(her tone is low too as she touches his lower back; her hand will probably be stained with blood but she's alright with that.)

If you gotta vomit, go ahead. Don't hold it in if you have the urge to.

Even hearing her approach and having her announce herself, he still tenses a little bit as she touches him, but then makes an effort to relax. Part of him never wants to be touched again, while another wants about a billion hugs. Right now he probably leans towards the former, at least for people he doesn't know very well.

He feels a little queasy, now she mentions it, but he hasn't eaten in at least a dozen hours, so he doesn't really have anything to throw up.

He shakes his head a little. "I'm okay," he says. He's clearly not, but he's not about to pass out or anything.

Yeah, uh-huh. And the "City of Progress" is actually makin' progress.

(she knows he wouldn't get that but to her, that just shows how much bullshit he is spitting and she can definitely see by his body language he is way far from okay.)

Just rest here for a bit, alright? Remember to take deep breaths.

"Well, it's a... relative sort of 'okay', alright?" he argues, but without much power behind it. He doesn't get the reference, but the sarcasm is still obvious.

He does respond well to having someone ground him a bit though, and he takes a few deep breaths in through his nose, which steadies him a little.

After a few moments he turns to face her and gestures at his face and neck with the wet rag. "Did I get most of it?" he asks. He didn't, and there's a bunch stuck in his hair which is harder to get out, and he desperately needs a shower no matter what.

(if he needs someone to ground him, jinx will definitely be that person. not because of caring for others (sometimes) but mainly because she enjoys bossing people around. when he turns to her, she stands on her toes as she grabs on to his chin; thumb and index. jinx moves his head around slowly to get a closer look while murmuring "Letseee...".)

You missin' some spots. Want me to get it?

Dylan is mostly okay with being bossed around - as long as he doesn't really disagree with what he's being told to do, of course. Then he'll argue stubbornly - although he might still do as they say (pouting all the way), as long as he doesn't strongly disagree.

"Sure," he answers, handing her the rag. He's a lot more okay with being touched when he can see it coming, it turns out.

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