sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #2

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TEST DRIVE MEME #2

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.]

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"More luxury than the brig, mate."

For kidnappees, they have it pretty cushy, is all he was saying. Easy to turn a blind eye to the faults of the place when there is stuff like ice cream and bars and restaurants open almost all hours of the day, with more comforts than Ed had seen in one place before he had met Stede, and with advancements that are frankly beyond his wildest imagination.

"Shit." He turns pink with embarrassment, a fact he will deny, and angles himself away to hide as he tries to wipe at the spot Stede's showing him. Right now, there's a use for a handkerchief, but he'll be damned if he uses the red scrap of cloth for this. As he turned back, he held his arms out in a ta-dah, dripping a little of the ice cream onto his fingers. Surely the epitome of cool. "Got it?"

"True. Better than a brig any day." But a brig is still a brig no matter how fancy. Still, they are pirates! Jail breaking should be part of their repertoire! Well, it's certainly part of Ed's.

The embarrassment is cute in a way, but startling. You didn't expect Blackbeard to be embarrassed by a little ice cream. But that's what makes Ed, Ed.

"Just about. Here." He sets his ice cream on a handy table and whips a handkerchief from his sleeve as he is a gentleman and comes prepared. "If I may." He gently scoops up Ed's hand, cradling it from the back to get the ice cream off his fingers.

"It'll be a little sticky but you're right as rain." And warm too. And, looking at his hand, though his fingers are calloused, Stede remembers the strange smoothness of his palm.

Stede's handkerchief is soft, because of course it is. Everything about the crazy fucker is soft and quality and Ed feels a little bad getting the fine cloth sticky with his mess. His hand tingles where Stede held it and being sticky is a small price to pay for that moment. He looks away.

"Pirate. Used to being a bit sticky." He could probably lick his fingertips clean of the stickiness, but that suddenly feels a bit perverse after the touch, and even though perverse is totally fine for a pirate like Blackbeard, he doesn't. And then, belatedly, he remembers what manners he has and adds a quiet, "Thanks."

He clears his throat and watches Stede with intense focus. "So...what are your thoughts on all this? Roommate situation aside. I mean, I could--take care of that, if they're a bother?"

"Doesn't mean you have to be if you don't want to be." He says cheerfully as he tucks his handkerchief back where it came from. Gosh it was hot out here for some reason, or perhaps it was just his face. The gratitude just makes him smile. How funny what a simple word could do. The heat was sinking in right through his skin and into his chest-- and he had to take a bit of ice cream to cool off-- and also to hide the smile a little.

"Do you mean swapsies kind of bother or stabbing them in the face and tossing them over the side kind of bother."

He grins devilishly. "Whatever floats your boat, mate. I was thinking a maybe a little less messy than face-stabbing. Shame to waste the bed linens. Just, uh--" He pantomimes bringing something around an invisible person's neck like a garotte. The ice cream cup tips perilously but doesn't quite spill this time. "--kind of bother."

For a little icy courage, or whathaveyou, and to make himself seem completely nonchalant about the whole thing, as if the idea just occurred to him, he spoons in a helping of ice cream and then gestures with the spoon. "Though I guess we could just kick one of 'em out and take whichever's the better room."

"Let's...not with the garroting please." He rubs his neck in memory. He's never been garrotted but nearly hanged is a close thing. "I like your other idea though a great deal. Of course, we'll be in a bit of trouble if there's only one bed but I wouldn't mind squishing in if you don't." Though Mary did say he was a bit of a bed hog... among other things.

"Or I could make myself a nice little place on the floor... Or see if there's a hammock around."

Ah, oops. That was a little out of line, the whole garroting thing. Ed winced, though the expression came out a more comical oops, my bad than completely apologetic.

Stede liked it "A Great Deal." And wouldn't mind squishing in, sharing a bed. Act cool, Ed.

"Nah, no need for that. Gentleman pirate sleeping on the floor? Ruin your image, man." There were likely two beds. Probably. He wasn't going to arrange for there to be only one if he had to throw the mattress overboard. Really, he wasn't--never even entertained the thought. He stirred the remainder of the ice cream and attempted to drink it from the cup, crushed the cup in his hand, and tossed it overboard.

"Oh god, I think-- my brain is frozen."

"Good point! I hadn't thought of that. And it would be murder on my back. Squishing in it is." As two good friends did. Side by side. No room to move. Warm breath fluttering against his neck. Platonically. Good pirate mates-- buddies. Friends. Pals.

"Ed! You littered!" He was a bit glad of that to distract him from suddenly swirling thoughts. "There are proper receptacles for that kind of thing, you know! What if a bird or a fish gets that and chokes?"

Well there was no hope for it now, he supposed "And that's why you have to savor ice cream. If you eat it too fast it goes right to your head. But you almost deserve it." Though he didn't mean that. "Stick your tongue to the roof of your mouth for a minute. That's what I did when I was a lad."

Bunkmates. Absolutely nothing more than bros. Just pirates making the most of the space allotted to them. Nothing to see here.

"So? Cycle of life." What the hell. Who cared if a bird or fish choked on anything--Stede Bonnet did, apparently. Ed gave a half-hearted look over the rail into the water and shrugged. It was gone, off to be fish-food. And then some bigger fish would inevitably eat that fish and so it goes. Next time he'd find a bin, excuse me, a receptacle to appease his soon-to-be-bunkmate.

"What the fuck. How's that supposed to work." The words were lispy as he tried it while talking. Just as he was beginning to think it wasn't going to work and that Stede was yanking his chain, the headache began to clear and Ed's face scrunched up in confusion and astonishment. "Really?"

"That's as may be, but you'll put Buttons in quite a state." Not that he'd seen Buttons around. Or anyone really. He tried not to smile too much at the lisp, and then smiled proudly as it worked.

"Who knows? It's one of life's little miracles." He finished his own ice cream and held it awkwardly, hoping they would come across said receptacle, or else someone to take it away.

"Well, what next? Should we explore a little? Find something worth seeing?"

"He's always in a state." Buttons was unique, even among the eccentricities of pirates. Ed wasn't really sure what his deal was.

He almost went ahead and took Stede's cup to throw it overboard as well, just to see him scold Ed again, but then Stede wouldn't have anything at all to do with his hands and Ed would have to think about that and it was just easier to spare Karl's kin from their trashy choking hazards.

There probably wasn't anything really worth seeing on the entire damned vessel--at least not anything they'd be permitted access to. But he would find something, even if it was just more fancy snacks. Somebody had to keep an eye out for Stede, so obviously they were going to have to find excuses to spend time together.

"Couldn't hurt. Anything in particular you wanna check out first? We could try the wheelhouse. See if the captain could be persuaded to let us pay him a little visit?"

"True. But he's harmless." A beat. "Mostly." He'd trust Buttons a hair more than the others, but they were all a good bunch deep down. Everyone had their traumas and problems and insecurities. And he missed them a little- his rowdy bunch.

As for what to check out first-- honestly he had heard rumors of a library which he desperately wanted to find-- But a library didn't quite seem Ed's speed.

"Oh that seems like a good idea." He didn't mind meeting the captain. "We could have a little talk. Or maybe... a violent overthrow? Take this ship for ourselves?" He tentatively glances at Ed to check his reaction. It felt like what a pirate would do and he wanted to know if he had done a good job.

"Could do." He flashes Stede a lopsided grin.

Violent overthrow at this stage is maybe not the wisest of decisions--nah, for sure not the wisest of choices with only two people against a ship supposedly full of unseen crew members--but planning can grow tiresome and a violent overthrow with Stede at his side sounds fucking fun. Another great adventure bound to be an unconventional good time.

The more he thinks about it, the crazier the idea seems. But he likes it--damn, he loves it. He can't fall back on his reputation as Blackbeard here in the same way he can back home--run up the flag and watch people shit themselves just trying to not die at his hands--so any takeover is going to take actual work, actual violence and real fuckery.

"Fuck, man. It's ballsy." He shakes his head, still grinning like a fool, and seizes Stede by the shoulders, jostling him in a physical show of comradery. "Might need a few more recruits for a mutiny on a ship this size--no telling what kind of bullshit we're dealing with in there--but if the opportunity comes, I say we take it." The friendly gesture relaxes into an arm slung over Stede's shoulders, elbow crooked at his neck. They're pretty close this way, but Ed decides to go with it. Enjoy it. Mulling over this stomach flippy feeling is for losers (or at the very least for later over a bottle of rum when Stede isn't around). "God, I like your style."

"Really? Do you?" He flushed a little and grinned, quite pleased with himself. And even more pleased with the arm around his shoulder. It as a gesture of lovely comradery that he was well getting used to.

"You know I'm really getting the hang of this pirate thing. But you're right. We should definitely get a little like minded people together... a little crew of our own. It would be nice to be on the mutiny for once instead of being the subject of one!"

He took a calculated risk and put an arm around Ed's waist since that seemed the best place for it. He had a slightly flustered moment when his thumb managed to accidentally brush skin but he recovered well.

"I think after we pay a visit to our captain of the hour, we should find a way to suss out his weaknesses and use them against him until he gives us what we want. Maybe a little light psychological pressure? And then...oh will you look at that."

He was pulled up short, slightly distracted by what seems to be some sort of shop that seems to be selling clothing. They were strange clothing, vivid and colorful, and a display of tinted glasses. They were having a moment here though and he'd hate to ruin it so maybe he'd just...mark out where it was for later.

From this close, Stede's hair smelled softly fragrant in that refined way of his and warmth radiated off him. If he turned to listen, the blond curls occasionally strayed against his beard and Stede's smiling voice was evident in his tone and profile.

He nodded in agreement--Stede was, endearingly, figuring out the pirate thing. It was good to have him here, someone Ed could rely on--at least as much as anyone could rely on another person: good way to shoot yourself in the foot if pirates went around trusting other pirates. But they would need some sort of semi-capable crew if they were going to achieve anything.

He became keenly aware of their proximity when Stede's arm settled around his waist. The skin to skin contact sent a charged current, like St. Elmo's fire, crackling up his spine. The gentleman pirate had to have felt that too, right? But no. Nah, he kept right on talking. Ed could use a drink of rum. And an excuse to disengage.

They stopped--well, Stede stopped and Ed walked into him for a step before he caught on and turned his face away from Stede's to follow his gaze.

Ed was a bit of a magpie, even if his wardrobe wouldn't openly attest to it. With obviously intrigue, he took in the little shop with its clothing as bright as bird feathers and more vivid than anything Stede had in his auxiliary closet.

"Well, well--" His eyes lit up with glee, the plan to meet with the captain discarded momentarily in favor of this new, shinier distraction. Glasses were generally for the stiff and studious, but these-- There were purple ones that might match his undershirt. Might be...cool. Stede would look particularly fashionable in just about any of the colors, but the gentleman pirate wore most things well. "Maybe nothing as fine as your silks and cashmere, but I reckon we might find a bit of treasure here. Let's have a look, shall we?"

Rather than disengage, he used their positions to redirect Stede towards the shop.

"Well-- silks and cashmere..." It was nice to go there as a unit, as a team; especially during the turn when Ed's hip bumped lightly against his. So this was what it was like to have friends which-- really-- was more precious than any treasure. He squeezed Ed a little closer without thinking about it as they entered the store.

"Hello? Anyone home?" There was no one. Not even a sign of ghostly shop keepers. It felt a little awkward to be there with no one tending the til, and he was about to suggest they leave, but then remembered they were Pirates and didn't ask permission.

"I have a feeling we're not in Barbados anymore. Look at these colors. These styles. These designs. It's an entirely new world of haute couture!" He reluctantly left their not exactly embrace to pluck up a lovely shirt and held it to Ed's frame. "I would love this on you. Reds suit you rather well. What do you think?"

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TEST DRIVE MEME #2

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