sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Entry tags:

!tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

1. not subtle revealings

[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! 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. a permanent reminder of a temporary feeling

[the reflections are missing. all of them. in mirrors. in television screens. on the backs of spoons. nothing looks back at you.

then, figures do show up. not your own, like you'd expect. thin, wispy apparitions, people with pleading eyes and hands, reaching out to place their palms against the surface, from their own end. faces familiar and not, beckoning, mouthing words you just can't quite make out. help me, it might be. get me out, perhaps. just until you're close enough, until your skin warms the surface of whatever it is you're peering into. and then, those same hands wrap, all too real, burning-cold against your flesh, and pull, trying to drag you through the surface, making up for their lack of strength with desperation. any flesh unlucky enough to enter the reflection comes back bone-white and cold, all sensation dead, though it will fade within a few hours.

in retrospect, it looks a bit more like they were saying something different. something more like, better you than me. or maybe it's not even words at all. they look a bit more like they're laughing.]

3. complex mementos

[but, hey. sometimes changes are good! like, today, in Playback, there's a brand-new game available for all the children to play! it's an old-fashioned sort of claw machine, the type that's so large, a particularly dedicated kindergartner could wriggle their way inside. the prizes vary, and sit loose: bags of candy, stuffed toys, firearms, painfully early-00s electronics, actually that one just looks like a dead iguana, tiny ship-branded knickknacks... like all the other games in the arcade, the game starts up automatically upon being touched; lack of quarters shouldn't keep you from having fun! pro tip: they are loaded, and they will go off if you suck at claw games and let it fall.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Wow, he's a moron.

She could hurt him some more. Could probably kill him, if she wanted to. But it feels kind of pointless. ~~He doesn't even look like he has any good loot.~~ It's sort of pathetic, watching him flail around, maybe she'll just leave him be...

"Pidgeon?!"

He'll hear the voice in his mind, vaguely feminine, and currently a bit shrill with outrage.

His vision will only be gone for a minute, though by the time he can see again, she'll have landed up in the rafters. She will, however, also be invisible. So good luck finding her now. (Ugh, wasting her spell slots on this idiot...)

He doesn't always think straight when he's angry, especially if he underestimates his opponent. The fact that she can actually talk knocks a bit of sense into him. Enough that he doesn't just fly back into berserker mode and start attacking, anyway.

"That's what I said. You got a problem?" he says, looking around the room for any signs of movement as his vision clears, "Come on. Hiding's for cowards."

"Cowards? This is mercy, idiot," she answers.

You know what's annoying? (For him, that is.) Telepathic communication isn't directional at all. The voice is just coming from everywhere and provides no hint as to where she's actually hanging out.

He turns around, trying to place the direction of the voice, but unfortunately, he can't. Telepathy doesn't actually freak him out that much (he had to communicate via supernatural means when he was a ghost back home), but it sure is frustrating.

"Who're you calling idiot, bird brain?" he says, "I wasn't the one playing around in the claw machine."

"I wasn't playing, I was looking for good shit, obviously," she answers. "Most people know not to bother others who are just going about their business."

She is definitely not in the wrong here. He attacked her!

"You were in the prize bin, don't get all mad that someone thought you were a prize," he scoffs.

Some people would have the good sense to assume that a living bird was not a prize. Vance was not some people, though in his defense, there are some pretty bizarre prizes in there.

If you can fit in there, it is a good way to cheat and get the prize you want, he has to admit. He cranes his neck to look at the jumble of prizes again.

"Get me the gun and I'll call truce."

There's a caw from somewhere up above that manages to sound a lot like a scoff.

"Fat fucking chance," she answers. "Why should I want truce when I know I can kick your ass?"

"Please, you caught me off guard, that's all," he says, "Everyone knows not to fuck with me."

That's not entirely a lie, as long as by 'everyone' he means 'all the other teenagers in the suburbs north of Denver'.

"Not really. Though it's not like people have anything better to occupy their time with than talking, though, so don't worry that you're bothering them. The only ones who'll mind are real heels."

Which there are a few of, but it shows Johnny's assuming Hawke just doesn't want to bug anyone, and missing the real issue.

Hawke really tries to imagine it. A small handheld canon that fired tiny cannon balls. It looked utterly ridiculous in his mind. It seemed almost useless to him as well. Or at least so difficult it wasn't worth it.

Some of his confusion definitely shows in his expression.

"Maybe we need a bigger bullet?" he suggests, not even jokingly. A bigger piece of metal must be more useful than a small piece.

"Now there's an interesting bit of magic." Hawke releases his magical hold on the not-crossbow as soon as her hand wraps around it. "Are you warping the energies of the glass or your hand? Or both?"

Changing reality is nothing unusual to Hawke. He does it all the time with his magic. He's never transmuted himself beyond simple healing spells. The magic it must take to wrap herself like that.

It's actually very interesting to him.

"Oh yeah, you want to go again?"

There is definitely a challenge in her voice. As far as she can tell, he's a regular dude who can maybe punch. She is 100% confident she can take him. And like... it's not like she's using her magic on much else over here. Could be fun. She doesn't HAVE to kill him. ~~Although it can be hard not to, with some of these abilities.~~

She gently pulls the gun out and then unloads it carefully. (She has to do it carefully - she's by no means trained with guns, but at least she knows how to do that much.)

"Uh..." she answers, pausing. "I dunno. I just sort of do it?" she answers honestly.

Hawke is perfectly comfortable bothering people when the situation calls for it. Sometimes, when it does. He certainly made a few people annoyed when he first woke up on the ship. He said all sorts of stupid things.

"Is a heel your way of saying an ass?" Hawke bumps his shoulder against Johnny's. "Because you don't have to be so formal. You can just say some people are assholes."

Because there were always assholes.

"Yeah, I do," he says, full of too much rage and teenage bravado to turn down a challenge from a bird, "Do your worst. I'm already dead."

He can, in fact, die again here. If he knew that, he might be more cautious.

"I generally try to be more polite than that. But yeah, some people are assholes."

He returns the shoulder-bump with a bit of a wry smile. Despite how he's dressed, Johnny isn't actually a stuffy noble sort. He's a man who's worked very hard to build the life he wants to lead, after choosing to break off from his family.

"I try not to be one of them, though."

With a caw, Vrana reveals herself above - mostly because she just cast mage armour on herself, to make her harder to hit. Not that she has any intention of getting anywhere close just yet. Always good to be careful though. Birds aren't actually that hardy.

And then, burning some sorcerer power to make her spells fire off quicker, before he has a chance to react properly...

Suddenly, the entire area surrounding him is inky blackness. It's 40 feet across, and bitterly cold, as well as absolutely impossible to see through.

But he can hear something. Whispering. Repulsive horrifying slurping noises. It'll soon become obvious what that sound is coming from. There a tentacles here, violently thrashing around. It'll be hard to make his way through, and even harder to avoid getting hit...

"Get tentacle-fucked, asshole!"

[ So that's 11 cold damage right off the bat. And unless he does nothing but try to make it out of the area, he'll take a further 6 acid damage unless he succeeds on a 16 dexterity save. Vance has decent dexterity, right?? ]

Hawke watches with fascination as she does something to the not crossbow. "Oh, wait, a man told me about these. It's a little canon with bullets, right?"

The things she takes out of the little canon look like weirdly shaped blunt arrowheads. He's not sure why they've got the brass bits. He's not really sure of anything in the box machine thing.

"Ah, no formal schooling in magic then. That's risky but you seem to be handling it well."

Steven wrings his hands and shakes his head. Everyone's seen some things. That's kind of part of the problem, isn't it?

"I don't," he tries to lie loftily, clearing his throat. "I'm just blabbering." Why is he still being followed? This is so stressful.

"Where are you staying? I can show you to your cabin..."

[ He gets lucky with a 17 this time. ]

Now that he's ready for some weird shit, he pays closer attention and manages to dodge the tentacles. Skipping school to fight and play pinball had some advantages after all, and his reflexes are pretty sharp.

...But it's still cold and dark, and the cold hurts him more than any cold he's felt. It reminds him of dying, especially with those horrible noises, and as tough as he tries to be he's scared. Even if he won't admit it.

"Christ, okay, uncle," he says, as if saying uncle is an expression for giving up that transcends universes, "You fucking win."

Good lesson to learn but also a shame. It'd be something I wouldn't mind seeing.

[He taps his chin thoughtfully for a moment before he just motions for SecUnit to stay where it is. Minutes later after rummaging around the prize counter the Doctor returns with a small toolkit in hand.]

That leaves the old fashioned way then. Although I must confess a part of me is keen to find out what would happen if I just took a hammer to it. The Captain seems to have thought that far ahead at least.

[He blinks several times, as his brain tries to catch up to all this information this person - Clara - is him. That she's been alive, or at least existing a century by herself in a diner. It has to be her. How could it not be her?

And even if it wasn't her, what harm would a hug do when he had just found her again? He takes several steps towards her before pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her.]

Clara. But - how?

not subtle revealings

[Hero is good with instructions.

When he receives a letter in a strange, unfamiliar room, after an evening that nearly whittled away the frayed remnants of his hope for the future, he reads it. What else can he really do? He needs to give himself something to do. Something that can keep himself from confronting the sickening tangled mess of emotions in the back of his mind.

What's better, the letter has a further task: attend the mandatory lifeboat drill. It seems that means he's on a ship of some kind. He lets that thought float into his head and then disappear just as quickly. After all, he has something to do now. It's easier for him to just focus on that. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Take one step, and then the next. Hear one word of the safety speech the strange woman gives the assembled crowd, and process the next.

Just one at a time. He doesn't need to think about anything else. He doesn't have time to think about it. The fight he walked in on is out of his mind. The mangled mess of blood and gore on Sunny's face isn't even registering. Basil with those bloody shears is a far off memory.

What Sunny had to tell them all? Who can even think of it?

When the drill ends and the other newcomers disperse, Hero stands there for a few moments, just taking it all in... and then he turns on his heel to head off, well, somewhere. He's still figuring that part out. He might gently try to stop another passenger, offering a nervous smile and a weak laugh.]

Ah, sorry to bother you... I was wondering if you knew where the first aid supplies were kept? I think I'd better see what kind of treatments are available, in case anyone needs it.

[In case there's another accident... in case someone is suffering again and he's too selfish to see it... just in case.]

permanent reminder

[When Hero notices the mirrors, failing to reflect anyone walking past, he knows it would be best not to look. Something as strange as that probably is a magic trick at best. At worst... not counting all the terribly unscientific things that have been proven possible on this bizarre ship, it could still be a hallucination, and wouldn't that just be wonderful for his hold on his mental health if he had to admit he was seeing things again? It's best for him not to even bother with them. He has other things to do.

...But he glances. Just once, he dares to sneak a peek.

His friends smile warmly at him.

Sunny is there, no longer pale and shaky, one hand up against the glass as a sort of gentle beckoning. His smile is barely perceptible, but after the last few days, it's an absolute blessing. Basil is there beside him, free of any injuries, gripping his camera as the flash flickers. It looks like he's saying something to Aubrey, who scowls, but nods her head, shyly motioning for Hero to join them in a way that doesn't make it too obvious how much she needs him. Kel, of course, has no need for subtlety, his fist pounding on the glass to grab his older brother's attention, babbling something a mile a minute, certain something he says will convince Hero, even if he can't hear them.

And then, they all look back, drifting to the sides of the mirror to welcome a new form into their fold. One with that same long, flowing hair, that lacy white dress, the same flowers gently folded into her arms that he remembers the last time he saw her. She had been so peaceful then... and so cold.

Now she's all the sorrow he thought he had failed to see, all bursting out of her in desperate movements, in quiet sobs. Her hands are pressed desperately against the glass, framing her horrified face. The breeze hits her, and she sways from the rope around her neck. She gasps for air, kicking and struggling and reaching desperately for a saviour...

Hero is pressed up against the mirror before he's forced to stomach any more of the gruesome scene. He sobs for Mari, calling her name over and over, even as her hands pass through the thin barrier between them and dig into his arms. Her fingernails leave tears in his skin, and she stares at him through the tangled mess of hair in front of her face, obscuring her features, making her seem almost ghoulish.

He doesn't care. He calls for her again, even as his voice is weakening, as she pulls the colour out of him. He stumbles forward, starting to sink into her embrace... it feels numb. All the grief and misery and anger he felt at her death turn into white noise, leaving him... delightfully empty. If this is how it feels to go, maybe he can just... close his eyes and let her take him.

Try to save him, if you must. Otherwise, when he finally is released, most of his tan skin has turned deathly white, and he staggers through the halls, too numb to even feel the floor against his feet. Hopefully he doesn't collide with someone.]

[ooc: Giving Jack stats is an interesting exercise I ought to do some time! ~~I can tell you his investigation bonus is definitely not over 2 lmao~~ I rolled but let's see if he actually uses it lol]

With most of his attention out for more ghost-slaps, he doesn't notice the new shiny right away.

Inevitably, though, he does notice a glint of light - one of those things you needed to get good at to stay out of the vita-chambers in Rapture - and pauses to look it over. Is it new? It stands out amongst the other objects not just for its shine, but for the fact that it looks more expensive than the other accessories in the machine. Maybe the machine restocked itself. Or maybe it's been put there to bait him back.

The crane swings over to the watch, and after a long moment... He shrugs and hits the button to lower the crane. Does he need a pocket watch? Nah. Is it his kind of thing? Nah, too fancy. But is he curious? Absolutely.

Has this same curiousity ended in a trip to the vita-chamber before? No comment.

"The problem wasn't the size, it was the Captain using magic to redirect the path of the bullet, so it nearly hit another person. Someone dear to the one who'd fired the gun, clearly a threat."

Murderbot had watched it happen. It was...definitely a night.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 59 of 87

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Hero | OMORI

no subject

no subject