TEST DRIVE MEME #2

[sailmods]

1. this hotel room got a lot of stuff

[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 aboard! We're so glad to have you!

[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. and a touch-tone phone

[chatterbox isn't exactly the most popular venue onboard. it probably has something to do with the distinct lack of open liquor bottles. so, nothing personal. except it seems that it's decided to take it that way, suddenly.

anyone enjoying the other amenities of deck five will feel the distinct sensation of being watched while they do so. the kind of feeling a prey animal gets while being stalked on the grasslands. something may slither by their foot, or past their elbow while they rest it on the bar, but nothing appears to be there when they look.

until there is.

a black electrical cord originating from somewhere will, first, wrap around their ankle, tugging in a very clear "follow" instruction. should this instruction be ignored, a second cord will wrap around their other ankle, and, once again, tug. should this clear final warning be ignored... well, now they're being dragged down the promenade, and that's really their own fault, isn't it. don't struggle. struggling means more cords show up. and none of them seem terribly aware that most species need to expand their lungs to live.

their final destination, no matter the journey, is chatterbox's main stage, where the karaoke machine awaits. the cords place a microphone in their hand; the mic's cords bind it tightly to their hand.

they don't have to pick a song. there isn't an actual gun to their head, in any literal sense. it's just, those cords really don't seem that interested in letting go until they do.

and if you were heading to chatterbox anyway? welcome to the weirdest goddamn karaoke night you've ever seen.]

3. and a bucket of ice (cw: cannibalism mention)

[no longer will scoops be bound by the shackles of only having 31 flavors. for this month, and this month only, a sign that very much looks like Friday hand-wrote it announces, they will have 32!

what is that mysterious 32nd flavor? it depends, really: the letters on the display case seem to shift and change with each new pair of eyes that fall upon them, with the contents changing along with it. someone from the capital wasteland might find some Nuka-Cola ™ branded ice cream. twilight town residents will be thrilled to find sea salt on the menu. and a frankly concerning amount of people bring out a flavor that only describes itself as "long pig." it's a weird off-white color. don't think about it too hard.]

Comments

wanda maximoff | mcu

[weirdone]

𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝑜 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒

[ Wanda is, for lack of a better word - shaken. Before her abrupt arrival, she'd been isolated, hidden away in a small cabin in Sokovia, preventing herself from causing any further damage. She needed to learn to harness her powers, to learn more about herself about the magic that flows in her veins.

That, however, has been interrupted, it seems.

The introduction has Wanda nonplussed, stunned into silence at the introduction and the forced drill, but after she's released and able to move around, she finds herself unable to fly any further than the tallest funnel, hitting what seems to be an invisible barrier.

So there is no escape, it seems.

Wanda has, at the very least, learned not to let her fury and grief get the best of her, so the ship is not ensconced in a sitcom hellscape. Instead, she listlessly explores, hands dangling by her sides, red leather coat draped over body and shoulders.

The most peculiar thing that has happened yet, though, occurs when a black cable winds itself around her ankle, not letting her go any farther, instead urging her to Chatterbox. Wanda tries, to no avail, to remove the thing with her powers, and when that doesn't work and more cables show up, she scowls and gives up, because she has no interest in being choked to death by strange black cords.

So. It's karaoke time, apparently. ]

𝒷𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝒸𝑒

[ Growing up, ice cream had been a special occasion treat, something that wasn't an every day - or even monthly - occurrence. So when she stumbles across Scoops, a little piece of her stirs in glee, and she has to stop and take a look at the flavors, though that last one has her hesitating because Long Pig??

She pulls a disgusted face, a hand up, red tendrils of power licking at her fingertips. ]

That is disgusting.

(( ooc; feel free to run into Wanda anywhere on the ship re: prompt one, or come up with your own wildcard adventure! I am easy! also pardon her dusty account while I upload more age appropriate icons. ))

kneeslides in i guess it's technically a wildcard type deal

[wordiness]

[ he knew he'd seen her. the red ensemble sort of stands out, and even if it hadn't, he'd know his own mother's magic pretty much anywhere. still, she's walking almost like she's injured, like something's wrong--besides the waking up on a strange cruise ship in another dimension, anyway--and that.. worries him. ]

Mom! [ he breaks into a jog to catch up with her, belatedly remembers that she may not have children in her reality, and corrects himself a moment later. ] Wanda! Wait up! [ he waves so it catches her eye, particularly as he's in jeans and a shirt, not his suit and cloak. he doesn't much stand out if you don't know what you're looking at. ] --Hey, are you okay?

screech

[weirdone]

[ A broken heart, a wrecked soul; that is injury enough. The voices, she heard them from the book, that thing she had (rightfully) taken from Agatha -- to hear one of them now is torture of the foulest sort and she whirls, a sea of red (fury, grief, sorrow, power), power flaring, fingers curling. ]

Who are you?

[ Who are you that you called her Mom, that you address her with such familiarity? ]

[wordiness]

[ billy slides to a halt, holding his hands up in a show of harmlessness. shit, she's younger than he'd thought, too. how young, though? is this before he and tommy at all, or after they'd been-- well. he's guessing, from the grief and rage on her face, it's the latter. ]

It's-- It's me, [ he says gently, and spreads his fingers, wreathing his hands in blue energy that doubtless feels very similar to her own. ] Mom, it's Billy. William? Do you-- Have Tommy and I even been born in your reality..?

[weirdone]

I--

[ Yes. No. In a way? Were they ever real? They'd felt real, certainly, but all of it had been made up, a reality created from her own grief and despair. ]

...Billy?

[ She swallows, letting a hand drop, defenses falling. ]

[wordiness]

Yeah. [ his own magic fades away, and he reaches out to catch her hands in his own. ] Hey. Sorry, I-- I forgot how much of a shock it could be, seeing me like this.

[ he draws her hands up to kiss the fingers fondly. ]

You okay?

[weirdone]

You, you're--

[ Her hands are limp, weak in his grip, all of her faculties left scattered like dust on the ground. ]

--all grown up. [ Helpless, she grips at his hands, utterly shell shocked but enough of a mother, at this point, to know that she is indeed faced with her own son. That in itself comes with its own set of embarrassments, she's sure, as she gives in and pulls him into a tight embrace. ]

[wordiness]

[ honestly, he'll never turn down an opportunity to hug his parents--either set of them--so he goes into the embrace easily, curling his arms around her in turn and squeezing her. ]

Yeah, Tommy and I are in our twenties now. [ he pulls back enough to smile at her, but doesn't go far, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind an ear. ] If he and I are.. gone in your reality, don't worry, okay? We'll be back. Maybe not the way you'd expect, but we'll find you.

[weirdone]

In your twenties.

[ She's working her jaw, trying to make sense of it, but truly, with all Wanda has been through and seen, loved and killed and lost, been snapped away and brought back, created an entire reality of her own making...

Is this so strange? ]

You already have.

ice ice babby

[heropose]

[Natasha's upbringing was...somewhat the same with that, ice cream being a very seldom treat. Not to mention rather bittersweet memories of a time lost to her. It just so happens that she's sitting in one of the booths at the back, a half-eaten bowl of butter pecan in front of her when she hears the familiar voice.

A frown briefly crosses her face as she lifts her head, another...?]

Wanda?

[It's been...years since she'd seen the young woman. And here she is, looking (only slightly) older than that last memory. She returned from the Snap as well???]

[weirdone]

[ She's staying away from that mystery flavor, thanks, instead going for sea salt caramel, a cone handed to her by ghostly apparition. Strange, but she's seen some strange things.

The voice, she thinks, is maybe a hallucination, but she turns and blinks, a smile (real and genuine) flickering over her features. ]

Nat?

[heropose]

[Confusion is clear on Natasha's face for a few more seconds before she clears it with a shake of her head. Giving a soft smile of her own.]

I'm beginning to think this place is drawn to Avengers. [She gestures to the open seat in front of her, though Wanda is more than welcome to sit beside her as well.]

[weirdone]

[ She will slide into the booth across from her, sticky cone in her fingers, the smile still on her face. ]

Are there more of us? How many?

[ There must be, going off what she said. ]

[heropose]

[Wanda looks...a lot more relaxed than Nat remembers seeing last. Then again, the chaos of the battlefield kind of made one tense for most people.]

Barnes, for one... [Nat tucks some hair behind her ear before toying with some of the ice cream again.] And Parker, the spider-kid [Sorry, Peter] from the airport. [Most of this is to get a feel for when Wanda is.]

There's also a young lady by the code name Ghost, she "worked" with Scott Lang. The uh...giant/miniature man, also from the airport.

[weirdone]

[ Relaxed is a way to put it, but -- yes. Gaining the knowledge that she has, studying the Darkhold, isolating herself...reflecting. It has given some perspective, if anything. ]

I don't know this 'Ghost'. [ Scott, she remembers. Vaguely annoying, incredibly large. And how could anyone forget Barnes, the reason they decimated that airport to begin with? ]

Better than being alone here. Wherever here truly is.

[hashtagparkerluck]

[ Okay so, karaoke is being forced on everyone. That's cool. He'd made the mistake of struggling one too many times and got himself dragged to karaoke. He really doesn't like this because he's not a fan of a spotlight as Peter Parker. ]

[ He gets dropped off at the door and quickly gets back to his feet, standing in a fight or flight stance as he gets a good look at the room. He recognizes Wanda but he's fairly certain she won't recognize him based on the fact he was sort of wearing a mask last time he saw her. ]

[ he sucks in a breath and offers a small, stiff war. ]

Um.. hey?

[weirdone]

[ Their interaction was so very brief, Wanda can't say for certain she even remembers his name, let alone his face. There had been...quite a bit going on.

The voice, though. That is familiar, at least in part. She tips her head, squints at him a bit. ]

You sound familiar.

[hashtagparkerluck]

[ He stops waving at when she squints at him, his lips thinning as he just looks more and more uncomfortable. ]

Um.. I'm-that's because I'm Spider-Man. We met in Germany. Briefly.

But my real name's Peter.

[weirdone]

[ Recognition dawns, and she nods, thoughtful. ]

Briefly, yes. I do not think we truly spoke.

[ Wanda wiggles her ankle a little, the cord still wrapped, begging for a song. Ridiculous. ]

Peter. I'm Wanda.

[hashtagparkerluck]

[ He offers a slightly enthused nod. ]

Oh yeah, I know who you are, you're... really... cool...

[ he trails off awkwardly. ]

Uh. Sorry. Um nice to meet you.

[weirdone]

[ Her brows lift, and she smiles, demeanor softening a little more. She knows she can come off...abrasive, angry. She's mellowed over the years, certainly, but there's still undercurrents, occasionally, of her rage. ]

It's nice to meet you too, Peter. I'm glad it's under different circumstances this time.