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

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.

He certainly gets along with Joan better than anyone else he's met so far. It helps that they have similar jobs and seem to be on similar wavelengths.

"Are you seeing things?" he asks, suddenly ~~suspicious~~ curious.

He asks that in an interesting way that piques her curiosity, and she tucks that observation away along with all the other little things she's noticed about him.

"There was a mirror," she answers. "I couldn't see myself, but saw Sherlock. Or...at least I thought it was Sherlock. It looked like he was asking for help, but when I touched the mirror he grabbed me and tried to pull me in. That said...I wasn't the only one who saw the spirit in the mirror. Although I might have been the only one to see the particular form it took."

He nods slowly. "I saw those too. People in the mirrors," he agrees. "And apparently it's not too uncommon to see things around here - people, figures, out of the corner of your eyes."

She tilts her head a little, his words bringing a bit of clarity to what she had witnessed.

"Did you see something? When you were at the counter?"

"A shape. Presumably whatever's bringing the food around," he answers honestly. "I'm not too worried about that. People who have been here a while talk about it's normal and nothing to worry about."

There is no way he's mentioning Christina though.

He's hiding something, but Joan's not about to grill him. They've just met and they're in an incredibly difficult situation, so its no wonder he might be cagey about seeing something more than just the ghosts at the counter.

"Nobody seems to know who the ghosts are," she says. "I get the sense they might not be the spirits of dead people."

He nods in agreement - mostly based on behavior. They're ghostly, but what departed soul would spend the rest of the afterlife manning a café?

"The ones in the mirror were," he says. "But... You said you saw Sherlock? I assume he's not dead?"

"I hope not," she says softly. She had asked the woman who pulled her free if the spirits in the mirror were actually the people they looked like for exactly that reason. If Sherlock was dead...

She doesn't want to think about that.

"I'm sure he's fine," he answers. There's no reason to worry otherwise. Since it's not like they can check. He's made the choice not to worry about anyone not on this boat.

Not that he can ever stop himself from worrying about Sofie and Tuva. But he's already written a will and sorted out all his papers, so he knows they'll be taken care of. It just wasn't being here that he was preparing for.

"It's not like we can check," she says, giving voice to his thought. She won't be able to completely stop worrying about him, just like she won't be able to stop missing him. He's such a huge part of her life, and as fiercely independent as Joan is, his absence leaves a hole. It's even worse that she's powerless to change her circumstance.

"Well, from what you've told me, he sounds like a capable guy. Sometimes you just gotta trust," he says reassuringly. Something he himself is capable of with his partners. Not so much his ex-wife. Not because she isn't capable, just... because of how much it would hurt if anything happened to her.

"He is," she agrees. "If I'm actually missing for any period of time, though, he might freak out."

It wouldn't be the first time. Sherlock can be protective.

Viggo shakes his head softly. "We don't know that's what would happen. Time is... weird here," he says. "So far I haven't met anyone who knows someone else here from before, but... If we do, maybe we could figure out if people actually do disappear or not."

That's one thing to put on the priority list, he supposes. Honestly, he's ready to go door-to-door and start interviewing people. He's just been wanting to get an overview of everything first, so he'd even know what to ask. And if some people have been here for a while, maybe they could trade information.

"True." She sighs. "We have way more questions than we have answers. This is going to take some time."

On the whole, Joan thinks, it's likely good mental health-wise to have something to focus on.

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