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

[fray]

[ It's the sensible course of action, Lars recognizes. He sees that, given the mounting futility of the war he's waging against the cords. And yet Lars is reluctant to give up and do nothing, gritting his teeth both against the discomfort and the frustration that comes with his current predicament. Maybe had he been stronger or swifter, he would have managed to free himself before things had gone this far.

If only...if only he were...

But there's little for it. Privately, he can acknowledge that with the extent of his injuries he isn't even at his fighting best. One minute he'd been recovering, the next he's on some absurd cruise, being dragged around by what he can only assume are cables. They certainly look like the kind that he'd seen littering the ground near their radio communications, back in the military. But they had never done more than lie there unless picked up and hauled elsewhere.

So what does that make these?

He has no answer. With a grunt, Lars shifts slightly - if only to assess their surroundings better. After all, his priority had been to fight, same as it ever was. ]

A stage. [ Lars finds to his frustration he really only can speak sparingly, loath as he is to admit it even to himself. He parses through what little information they have, not that it means very much to him, brow knit in concentration and some measure of pain. ] You're already talking... [ So it can't be just that. His attention flicks to the screen behind the other boy, though he can't see it well from where he sits. ] What's that...what's it say? Over there.

[ He can, to his relief, tip his head just enough to indicate direction. ]

[exiledwill]

[Rion's sheer relief as Lars finally stops struggling against his black cord Cage is palpable, both in his expression and how he sighs. He can see bandages on the boy peeking out here and there, and he imagines that it's still none too comfortable to be entangled like that... But better that the other boy reserve his breath for staying alive rather than working himself up into a fit or worse. His sparingly spoken observations are helpful nevertheless, and at his question, Rion redirects his attention back to the machine.]

It's a list of titles of some kind. Ashes of Dreams, This Silence is Mine, and... Emil's Shop. [yes this is blatantly breaking the fourth wall, no i do not care!

Absolutely none of those titles mean anything to him, although as he reads them aloud, a black cord slithers around to the machine, pressing one of the buttons and cycling through the titles as Rion goes through them. He hums softly, a little surprised at the helping? Hand the cord seems to offer during this. Of course, it'd be even better if these cords simply let them go, but...

Well, one thing at a time.] I've no idea what any of those are, but it seems it wants us to pick one of them.

[fray]

[ Distaste wrinkles Lars' nose as he listens to the words being read to him. He isn't certain exactly what they're supposed to denote, really, aside from two of the three sounding dramatically different from the remaining one. Could they be books? Are they expected to read aloud? It's peculiar, no matter how he tries to make sense of it. ]

The first two sound... [ Depressing, if he's being entirely honest. But he thinks better of stating it in such a way. ] dour.

[ He settles on that, eyeing the other boy and the device he's reading from. They're in the same predicament, and the peculiar movement of the cables suggest they're onto something... Even if they don't know precisely what that something is. ]

Try the last one?

[ Look if they're not on the most cursed timeline here, something is wrong. ]

[exiledwill]

They certainly do, don't they?

[He says it with a small laugh, in rather firm agreement with Lars. They're on a stage after all, so perhaps these are titles of plays? And if that's the case, he'd much rather not have to follow along with an unfamiliar, dour and depressing story. Whatever they might be, it does seem like the two of them will have to do something related to these titles... So when his current companion suggests the last one, Rion nods. He doesn't know who "Emil" is, but surely anything related to a shop wouldn't be so bad.]

Emil's Shop it is then. [And after a brief pause, he nods towards the black cord on the karaoke machine.] If you would be so kind.

[He can't reach it himself, after all... But it seems like this is exactly what the cord was waiting for! In fact, what all the wires around them have been waiting for. The black cord hits another button on the machine, and the two of them are treated to all the works of a modern day karaoke machine! Which is to say that after the title card and a transition to a grainy stock image of a beach, a chipper tune starts blaring from the karaoke machine speakers.]

Wha—? [Whatever Rion expected, it wasn't for music to start coming out of the machine! Before he even really has time to think about it though, the cord around his hand makes sure to bring the mic closer to his face, startling him as his voice suddenly echoes throughout the room.

Suffice to say that it's all a little overwhelming to him, from his confusion about the technology to how bombastic the music is. This is a lot, okay!!]

[fray]

[ Lars observes the proceedings from where he's stationed, jolting at the blare of music as he can achieve no more than this. It's loud and brassy and he has no idea what it's even for. He doesn't get to protest as much as the cords around him produce another microphone, swinging down into his field of vision from his sword suspended over his head.

It all but smacks him in the face, and he can't move his arm any better than before. For that matter, he can't let go of his sword even if he wanted to. The cords have appropriated it as an impromptu boom now, and he glowers at the mic dangling pendulously before his face. ]

What's this noise?

[ He grits out. To his surprise, the cords around his chest and throat loosen, if only slightly. It isn't enough to get up, affording him little in terms of range of motion, but he's being granted air. So his participation in...whatever this is...must be expected. ]

[exiledwill]

[It's participation of some kind, apparently! The cord around one of Rion's ankles begins to loosen, but only slightly as he's yet to continue with the "singing." Not that he's exactly caught onto that yet, if only because of his utter confusion at the music blaring from the speakers.

A picture begins to paint itself though as countdown comes onto the screen, and upon reaching 0, the two of them will see a string of text appear with a rather round-looking skull bouncing above each word. When the skull reaches the end of the text, new lines appear on the screen, and the skull bounces back to the beginning to begin its travel anew.]

I... suppose it must be a song of some sort. [Every day's a sale! Every day's a win! Buy stuff now or kick yourself later 🎶 Rion can't say it's the kind of song he's ever heard of, but the text is almost certainly the lyrics. There's no voice accompanying it though, and these devices before them seem to amplify their voices, so...] And I believe they're expecting us to sing along.

[At least they ended up picking a not-depressing song?]

[fray]

[ A song... And they're meant to sing it?

Lars grimaces as though he's bitten into a lemon. He watches the microphone bob in front of him animatedly, as though it's acknowledging that the other boy's theory is correct, with the same level of marked disenchantment. ]

But I don't- [ The microphone abruptly stills. He frowns, watching the cord it dangles from warily. ] I haven't sung. Before.

[ He settles on this, stiffly, suspecting that phrasing is the difference between a continued source of air and its loss. The words are little more than a sullen mutter.

Did he die, is this some kind of sick joke hell? ]

[exiledwill]

[Joke's on you Lars, Rion really did die, and if this is hell it sure is a mild one...

He has to hold back a laugh at the way Lars cuts himself off though. It would be a little mean given how Lars is still tangled up in all those cords, and Rion does sincerely hope they'll take a little more mercy on him and free him soon... But it isn't hard to guess that Lars isn't much of a singer. Most people probably wouldn't be when they were all but dragged into it like they were, of course, but Rion just has a hunch that his companion here would have some choicer words if not for their predicament.]

That's alright... Or so I think, at least. Neither of us are familiar with this song, so I can only hope we aren't expected to put on a stunning performance. [He's not too bad at singing himself, but while he's starting to get more of a feel for the song the more it plays, he has no expectations of singing something so new and unfamiliar even remotely well.]

[fray]

[ The joke's very much on Lars, because he just doesn't recall the assured eventuality of his own death. The joys of weapon memories... ]

I don't get why.

[ Why any of this is transpiring, why they're even here. Lars makes no effort to seem any less sullen than he feels in this moment. Being tied up and dragged around was humiliation enough, but now he's supposed to sing some weird song for others' amusement?

Or he can suffocate, apparently.

Lars puffs out a vexed sigh as the microphone dances in his field of vision like some toy held before a cat. It seems like the other boy's theory is correct. ]

This is ridiculous.

[exiledwill]

I certainly won't disagree with you there...

[While he doesn't have quite the same anger and irritation as Lars, the situation is a little baffling no matter how he looks at it. Why are the cords seemingly sentient? Why did they drag them all the way here just for a song? What purpose do they have in doing any of this?

... But just as he realized it would probably be pointless to question just how it is he's alive again, he has a feeling dwelling on the bizarre circumstances that they're in probably won't change much.

And as the cord wound around his hand with the mic shakes vigorously, almost in protest at the ridiculous comment, it's easy to see that the fastest way out of this is simply doing what they want.]

But I suppose it's ultimately harmless in the end, wanting us to sing. Or, well—mostly harmless. [He is really hoping Lars figures out how to relax and calm down a little, if only so he can breathe better...]

[fray]

[ Mostly harmless. Lars can't say that's incorrect, though what pride he has remaining begs otherwise. It doesn't look like they really have any choice in the matter, and that galls him more than being dragged around and being robbed of his breath. How many times has he had no say and no choice in the course of his life?

This, however, is far more absurd and presumably less far-reaching. Maybe that's why Lars finds himself with such little patience. ]

I won't be very good. [ He doubts he can carry a tune, not when he never has occasion to sing. ] Hopefully these...things don't care.

[ It feels strange, suggesting objects can care. Things that ought to be inanimate and thoughtless. Maybe it's some sort of sorcery, and there's a mind behind them, somewhere safely away from reprisals. ]

[exiledwill]

They seem more... eager for us to sing than anything else, so I imagine it will be fine.

[It's definitely a little weird to talk about these cords and wires as if they're actually alive, but given the way they've responded to them thus far, it seems safe to say that they're somehow sentient. They even shake the two mics, more than ready for these two boys to sing!

And the sooner they get through this, the sooner they'll be free! Or so he's hoping. They've talked for long enough that the song reaches its end, but rather than having them select another song, the cord just hits play on Emil's Shop, those bombastic horns all but blaring their cheery tune.]

Well now... I suppose it's time we give it a go. [He offers a smile, trying his best to make this seem like it could be something fun for them.]

[fray]

[ Eager. Lars can't deny that, though he'd use the word pushy instead. He can't really help but feel bitter about being practically hog-tied the way he is. They don't appear to have any other recourse but to go along with this bizarre singing-thing as best he can tell though.

He wonders if he ought to take comfort in the fact that no one he recognizes is here. If anything, having his erstwhile compatriots around would make matters far, far worse.

Leaning as best he can to try and read the screen, Lars tries to keep that in mind. It could be worse. It could always be worse. ]

Let's get it over with.

[ He just has to try and sing what he reads, right? ]

[exiledwill]

[It could definitely be worse. That's something they're both in agreement on, although Rion tries not to let the utter ridiculousness of the situation get to him. It helps that he isn't tied up quite so severely, of course, but thats why he's also doing his best to try and make this as painless as possible for him companion here.

So he simply nods at Lars with a smile before turning his attention back to the screen. After hearing it once, singing along with what they have to read shouldn't be too difficult. Here they go!]

My stuff's so cheap
That you will not believe
How much you can save!
So swing on by
And then purchase things
'Till you are broke ♪

[All things considered, Rion actually has a fairly pleasant voice! Matching with the rhythm of the song is a little trickier when he's only heard it the once, but it's a simple enough song that he doesn't sound terrible by any means.]

[fray]

[ What kind of song is this? Lars doesn't have much time to ponder it as the microphone in front of him bobs insistently again to prompt him. It looks like it's his turn to go along with this thing. ]

Prices so low
That you need a great sword to slash them more
Any lower
Would be illegal...really? ♪

[ Having failed to read the song through the first time, Lars can't help his puzzlement slipping in. He isn't much of a singer. Whether from lack of enthusiasm or experience would be impossible to say, but there's a subdued flatness about his tone.

The effort, at least, hasn't warranted further corded reprisal. ]

[exiledwill]

[It really is a bizarre song. Coming up with a catchy little tune is one thing, but Rion can't imagine any sort of shopkeeper putting in this much effort to advertise their store... Yet Emil's Shop seems to be exactly that.

But it doesn't matter. The cords aren't tightening up again on Lars it seems, so that should mean this performance is more than good enough! Rion nods encouragingly, his smile a little brighter. Not that he necessarily expects Lars to have fun with this, but if they keep this up, then hopefully it'll be enough to free them from their singing shackles.]

Every day's a sale
Every sale's a win!
Buy stuff now or... kick yourself later ♪
Every day's a sale
Every sale's a win!
I won't even charge you a mark-up ♪

[It's... a surprisingly aggressive song, all things considered... Even Rion can't keep his confusion out completely.]

[fray]

[ Focused as he is on the small screen they need to read from, Lars fails to notice the way the other boy's disposition brightens. At least, he doesn't see it. Absently, he registers the difference in sound - the smile comes through in his tone - but Lars' focus always bends in one direction.

And, for the moment, that's soldiering through this nonsensical song. He's bitter and biased about this whole affair, what with being abducted... ]

Every day's a sale
Every sale's a win
Better buy now, or you'll cry all night ♪
Every day's a sale
Every sale's a win
Every day is great,
When you are me ♪

[ That last line sticks to him like a barb. Imagine having that kind of energy (he can't)... ]

[exiledwill]

[Neither can he, frankly speaking. Rion might have an easier temperament and disposition in comparison to Lars, but having been sickly his whole life, he can't really imagine having this kind of cheer and energy all the time. It seems a little exhausting, in all honesty...

But that's neither here nor there. The song comes to a close, and with it, their black cord imprisonment does so as well. Rion watches as his hand is finally allowed to uncurl from the mic, the black cords around his feet finally slinking away at the same time. Nothing happens when he lifts his feet, and looking back at the screen, it's returned to the title selection.]

... I believe we did it! The wires finally seem satisfied. [Sweet, sweet freedom is theirs at last!]

[fray]

[ When at last the cords go slack, Lars feels relief wash over him. At least, for a moment he does. His arm had long since lost feeling and drops lifelessly at his side, sending him fumbling for his sword with his other hand, lest it clatter away and injure one of them in the process.

Once that's done, he puffs out a tense breath, drawing his weapon close. His arm will recover, eventually, but he trusts their surroundings no more than he did before. ]

Someone out there's got a bad sense of humor.

[ The words are nearly toneless under the weight of his disenchantment. He assumes, as he cautiously picks himself up, that there's some kind of mind behind those cords. Someone who gets a kick out of visiting indignities upon strangers. ]

...So now what?

[ This place is still as alien to him as it ever was. ]

[exiledwill]

Perhaps they simply wanted someone to make use of this room? [It does surprise him a little that despite this room clearly being made for performances, not a single person stopped by while they attempted to sing.] Although they certainly could've asked for the favor in a less... aggressive manner.

[Bad sense of humor, poor taste in manners... If not for how harmless it ended up being, he'd probably be a little more miffed himself. As it is though, he's willing to let it go, assuming of course that they don't get dragged back here again against their will. He's especially glad to see Lars free of the cords, and he's hoping they can keep it that way now.

When it comes to what's next though? Rion has a fairly simple answer in mind, even if it isn't anything exactly concrete either.]

I don't know about you, but I was exploring the ship before being taken here. It seems to me I can continue with my exploration now. [The whole things is very, very alien to him, and clearly not as peaceful as he might have once thought. Still, he figures the best way to make this alien terrain a little more comfortable is by becoming familiar with it.] You're free to join me, if you'd like.

[He has no idea what Lars was doing before all this, but if he's up for some company still...]

[fray]

Maybe...

[ It's a lot of trouble to go to, just to ensure a room sees use. Then again, Lars doubts that any answer would really satisfy him, at this point. Surely making random boys sing isn't worth this whole big production.

The unpleasant tingle of sensation returning to his arm diverts his thoughts for a moment. He broadcasts the fact by looking down at his hand, as though he can force his fingers to move by force of will. As of yet, however, he doesn't have any luck with that.

As for joining this other boy, who it seems is just as out of place as himself... ]

Guess I might as well.

[ Not that he couldn't do this exploring thing on his own, but. This other boy's smaller than him. Probably younger. And he seems to be unarmed. This place has already demonstrated the potential for hostile activity.

He might not be a soldier anymore, but this is the sort of person he was always being nagged to protect, right? ]

[exiledwill]

[Despite it being true that Rion is far less equipped for danger in comparison to Lars, he honestly hasn't minded exploring the ship on his own. If anything, he probably should be a little more concerned without his clockwork companion by his side; he can just imagine the scolding Dimos would give him. And it's not that he thinks he'll be fine and safe here, of course. This whole event has shown him how potentially unsafe his new surroundings could be.

Still, maybe it's because of the knowledge that he already died, or maybe it's because his health is actually in a much better state than it has been in a long time... Whatever it is, he just can't bring himself to view this place as an entirely bad thing. He wouldn't call it whatever force is at work here benevolent either, but surely something that eased his illness couldn't be all bad, could it?

Regardless, with how obviously discomfited Lars still seems to be, Rion's offer actually came from him wanting to look out for Lars. Even after death and in an entirely strange land, it seems he's still a prince who wants to help others.]

Wonderful! [Look at this smile, Lars, going off together can surely only be a good idea!] Ah, but where are my manners? My name is Rion, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

[fray]

[ Lars observes Rion's expression with overt skepticism. He's quite sure no one who has known him long enough would claim to be pleased to have met them, and he couldn't exactly blame them. Not that this awareness spurs any desire to change himself into some more personable form.

What would be the point, really? ]

...Lars.

[ He responds, glancing away from Rion's smile. It's brighter than what he's accustomed to having turned his way. ]

You got any idea where this boat is?

[ Thus far, he hasn't seen anything about it. ]

[exiledwill]

[The circumstances they met might not have been ideal, but nope, Rion is genuine when he says he's pleased to meet Lars! Of course, it probably helps that this is the first time in a long while where he met someone without them either trying to kill him or the experience souring when they realized just who he is...

But that's neither here nor there, right?

Instead of dwelling on any of that, he gestures for them to start walking, not minding how Lars glances away. They might as well get out of the room and leave behind all the unfortunate associations with it.]

I'm afraid I haven't the faintest clue. We're far out at sea... And that's about all I could gleam. [There's nothing but water around them, so honestly, they could be anywhere.]

[fray]

[ So neither of them have anything to go on, beyond being out at sea. Lars may not be surprised, but it's pretty unfortunate for them both. If they look hard enough though, there has to be some kind of documentation - maps or charts laying out their course and nearby shores.

It's just a matter of where, exactly, they manage to find that information. ]

Didn't spot any landmarks either, before those...cables.

[ He frowns at the memory as he trails after the smaller boy, falling into stride behind him rather than at his side. The passageways aboard the ship strike him as narrow, and he'd rather not bump elbows.

Especially not if something else comes after them. ]