sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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!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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Right," she says with a small smile and a quiet laugh tinged with sorrow. "It became pretty clear that the work affects my life, regardless of how much I try to keep them separate. And Sherlock and I work best when we're under the same roof."

It was Andrew's death that had shown her she couldn't have a separate life. She didn't date anyone after that, not wanting to put anyone else in danger.

He hums a bit, nodding. "I don't think I could stand it myself," he answers honestly. He likes the people he works with, quite a bit, but it's rough enough doing surveillance together for weeks at a time. If he's going to live with anyone, it's gonna be Sofie and Tuva.

"But then again, I'm Norwegian. Apparently we're all introverted loners, as a culture," he adds with a smile.

She smiles at that, and narrows her eyes in a playful doubt.

"Is that true? I mean, I haven't known a lot of Norwegians."

They had been about to go to Norway at one point. Joan wonders if they had, perhaps she would have met Viggo then.

He smiles to himself. He knows it's just this place, or the dream, or whatever, but it's still pretty amusing to him to hear her say she doesn't know any Norwegians, while speaking the language perfectly herself.

He shrugs a bit. "On average, moreso than say, Italians, yeah. But probably not that different from Brits," he answers, leaning back in his chair. "Depends on where in the country too, obviously. Not so much in Oslo, where I live, but if you go way up north, or up by the mountains, people are a lot more used to being on their own."

"Mmm. Americans can have a wide range of social connection, too. There are places where people are very open and friendly." She smiles. "And then there's Manhattan. Not exactly introverts, but often fiercely individualistic."

Of course different cultures within the city also had different levels of socialization, including the Chinese community, but she doesn't want to overly complicate things.

"Fiercely individualistic I'd say is just an American stereotype in general. At least compared to Norway. You guys - speaking very broadly, of course - seem to think 'socialist' is a bad word," he says with amusement. He's not judging her based on those assumptions obviously.

She laughs a little at that. "A lot of people do," she says with a smile. "Not me." Her smile fades a bit. "Before I was a sober companion, I was a doctor. A surgeon, specializing in trauma. I spent a lot of time in ERs, working with people in what was often the worst moments of their life. I didn't know and didn't care whether the people I helped could afford it or not. We all need to take care of people, regardless of how much money they have."

Viggo frowns curiously as she talks about being a doctor. What an intriguing and remarkable woman. Though what she's saying is both sad and very true.

"Couldn't agree more," he says quietly. "Our healthcare is hardly perfect, but at least it's financially accessible."

He's been dealing with the healthcare system a lot more than he would like to, recently. Which is either the reason he's here (if this is a coma), or it's going to be a problem soon (if this is real).

"I wish that's what it was like in America," she says. "Instead of people going bankrupt over medical bills."

She saw that look in response to her former life as a doctor, and smiles a little. "I've had an unusual career path," she acknowledges.

"Yeah, no kidding," he answers, returning the smile. "I've had sort of the same job for over 15 years now. Hard to imagine doing anything else, honestly." Of course his actual responsibilities has changed over time, as he worked his way up the ranks.

"You never know. I didn't expect either of my career changes. They both kind of came out of the blue. I never would have thought I'd be a detective."

She doesn't think Viggo is likely to want to be anything different, considering the reason he went into law enforcement in the first place. Still, things happen.

"Well, doesn't look like I'll be doing much detective work anytime soon," he says, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings.

He sighs, looking in the direction of the counter. He is getting hungry, and a coffee would taste amazing. "Screw it, I'm gonna brave it," he says, getting to his feet. "You want anything?"

"I don't know about that. There are definitely a lot of mysteries about this place."

She smiles at him as he stands, and glances over to the counter, thinking.

"Coffee would be good. Maybe something small to eat."

He'll concede that. Whether he's equipped to deal with the mysteries of this place is another matter. Though he'll try anyway. What else are they supposed to do?

"Coming right up. Hopefully."

He heads up to the counter, and for a moment he thinks he sees a shape of something, then it's gone. He hesitates for a moment - it's deeply unsettling.

"Two coffees and two ham and cheese sandwiches, please," he says. He watches as the coffee pours itself, and the sandwiches get put on plates. He looks around as he waits, and then--

He sees her, standing just outside the cafe. Watching him.

He screws his eyes shut and rubs at the bridge of his nose, leaning against the counter as he tries to block out the pain. When he looks back up, she's gone, and his order is on a tray in front of him.

"Thank you," he says, picking up the tray and carrying it over to their table.

Joan is watching the food moving by itself when her attention is drawn by Viggo leaning against the counter. She sees his face, eyes squeezed shut, clearly in pain. She begins to rise from her chair to go over and help him, but he recovers and she sits back down, still watching him in case he needs help.

"Let's hope it doesn't have ghost residue on it," he quips as he sets the tray down, acting like nothing happened and sitting down. He picks up the cup of coffee and gently blows on it.

"There are probably worse things," she says lightly. She watches him for a moment as he blows on his coffee, and decides it's probably best to ask.

"Are you okay?" Her voice is gentle, her concern clearly genuine.

"I'm fine," he answers, the dismissal coming completely automatically. "I get headaches sometimes. Migraines," he explains, since she'd clearly noticed. And she's a doctor, so it's not like he can dismiss it completely.

She recognizes that automatic assurance. She uses it herself when she doesn't want people to worry about her, which is most of the time. But she can't really challenge it...they've only just met. Besides, his explanation is...plausible. She thinks there's something else, that deeper thing she can't put her finger on, that sorrow in his eyes, but he could also just be having migraines.

"I'm sorry. Migraines are terrible. Hopefully the ship has pain killers somewhere."

"I'm sure there's at least a first aid station somewhere," he answers with a nod, taking a careful sip of the coffee before deciding it's too hot for now, and starting on the sandwich instead. It tastes fine. No ghost residue, as far as he can tell.

"Though if it's manned the same way the shops are here, then I think I'd rather ask you for medical help," he adds with a small smile.

She smiles back. "I am at your disposal. Anytime you need me, just give me a call. Or...I think they might only do messages around here. Anyway."

She reaches for her own sandwich and takes a careful bite. And ...it tastes like a ham and cheese sandwich. She chews and swallows and takes another bite, bigger this time.

"Yeah, apparently," he answers. At least he hasn't found a way to make the phone do actual calls. Makes sense. No reception out here. He sits in silence for a minute or two, just eating, then starting on the coffee.

"So, how are you finding your cruise ship vacation so far?"

She sighs as she finishes her mouthful. "Still not convinced this isn't a dream. If it's not...then I still don't know what to think about it. Sherlock likes to say that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, is the truth. But we're surrounded by things that until now, I would have thought impossible."

"Sounds about right," he agrees with a nod. "I've been trying to figure out what exactly is best to prioritise. Getting an overview of the situation seems to be the best plan, for now. Gather intelligence, if you want to put it that way. And try to stay sane."

"We could keep each other sane," she offers. "It would help to figure out what's real and what isn't if we're both seeing things. To whatever degree anything is real around here."

She also enjoys his company, but she doesn't want to potentially embarrass him.

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