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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Viggo is squinting so hard right now. Just staring at him, trying to figure out if the guy's crazy. Cause he sure sounds like it. Then again, maybe that's why they're both here. Maybe his brain finally kicked it and is just giving him this nonsense instead. Makes as much sense as anything else.

"Yes, I know Beyonce," he answers, figuring it's easier to just quickly answer the questions he throws out so he can move past it and ask something else. "You're not from Norway?"

Klaus isn’t phased by the expression. His siblings look at him like that all the time. Not to mention Reggie’s face. Bewilderment and disappointment are everyday looks.

“Oh, good. Cause I feel like it’s sad if you didn’t, but also sometimes it’s useful. More for sounding like you’re wise. Anyway, no. I’m not from Norway. Meant to go there once, but who has the time when the world’s always ending?” He waves it off like it’s a normal, every day thing to say to someone. “But you didn’t give me your name, and I’m not sure what to call you. Hot guy number one is actually not polite. I try to avoid the numbers. My dad was the number guy. Gave us all numbers for names. I’m Number Four. But mom gave me the name Klaus. So that was nice of her.”

This guy rambles. Viggo is pretty used to listening to guys rambling. Most of the time it can be pretty helpful, especially if they're a suspect, since they'll inevitably misspeak and betray themselves.

But what's notable is that despite claiming to have never been to Norway... "You're speaking Norwegian right now," he says. In an Eastern accent, no less. He sounds like he could be from Oslo, maybe Tønsberg.

That is puzzling. “Huh.” He frowns a little. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.” He’s not sure how to explain that. He can speak other languages, but those are more Latin, Spanish, French, Ancient Greek. Not Norwegian. “My dad didn’t teach us Norwegian. I’d have remembered that.”

Viggo rubs at his chin a bit, considering. If he was in a different situation, he'd've just assumed the guy's crazy and left it at that. But either Viggo is the one who's crazy - which seems entirely likely - or something else is going on.

"What language am I speaking right now?"

Klaus is not enjoying the lack of happy and fun conversation, but…he guesses he can deal. “You’re speaking English, buddy. Definitely English.”

If it helps, Viggo smiles when Klaus answers. But it's definitely a 'yup, I've lost it' kind of smile. Or possibly a 'yeah, this guy has lost it' smile. It's hard to tell.

He's not going to argue the point though. He's been speaking Norwegian the entire time, but it seems pointless to say so.

Instead he fishes out his wallet and pulls out his police ID, showing it to Klaus. It'll look English to him of course, but it does also state that he's part of Oslo police. And that his name is Viggo Lust. So there's a name, at least.

Klaus isn't really sure what the smile is about. He doesn't let himself linger on anything. He hasn't made a move to punch him yet and he has a nice smile, so Klaus chooses to focus on the nice smile part of it. Yes. That's the way to deal with this.

He glances at the ID and laughs without meaning to. "That's a last name, buddy." All things considered, he's glad that he at least has Hargreeves. Even if the old man sucks. He pats himself down, finding no wallet or ID in his own pants. He shrugs at that, catching sight of the lack of tattoos again. It's so weird. "Sorry. Don't seem to have an ID to prove myself, but I'm telling you, I don't even know where Oslo even is." It takes him till this point to realize he's talking to a policeman.

He considers something for a moment, whether he's done anything illegal, and he pauses in place while he's squinting in thought. No. He's good. Nothing illegal recently. Then he's back. "Is it just me or does everyone in this situation need a drink?" Everyone being them. Since things are weird. "Maybe we can find people in the bar? Ask questions?" Stop being sober.

"It's pronounced Lust," he clarifies. It is inconvenient when speaking to English-speaking people, but what can you do?

"It's the capitol of Norway," he answers, just quickly addressing his comments as they come up without elaborating further.

And, well, he's definitely out of his jurisdiction. He's technically not even allowed to work right now, but even if he was, what's he gonna do, throw him in the brig?

He guesses that Klaus is more interested in the alcohol than the questions. Which... You know what, that's actually fair. Viggo is clearly in a coma or something. Even the answers he's getting don't make sense. A drink actually sounds great right about now.

"I think I saw some bars a few decks down on the way up here," he says, starting to walk and gesturing for Klaus to follow.

Klaus' expression mirrors the 'oh' his mouth makes. "Well, that's a lot less funny in pronunciation. I'm glad Hargreeves is Hargreeves." Only he wonders what his name would be if it wasn't Hargreeves. Would it be his mother's name or someone else's. Either way, he lets that thought slide right off into the ether. No point in overthinking something anyway.

"Norway. Huh. Yeah. I leave knowing things to Five. I find it is better that way." He's going to find Five one of these days. Somehow. "You know what they say. Don't go chasing waterfalls. Just stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to."

He perks up at the mention of bars decks below. "You're my best friend now." There's a pause. "Don't tell Ben. Or Five. Well, maybe Five. He's so stingy with his affection. And his compliments." Which sounds childish, but Klaus isn't that concerned about it. And he's definitely following along after Viggo, unapologetically close behind him, but not directly. More off to the side. "So do you think we have to pay for anything here? I didn't bring money."

Well, in Norwegian the pronunciation is straightforward. It's not supposed to be funny. He'd spell Klaus's surname 'Hargrivs' if he tried to write it in Norwegian. But of course he knows better than to do so.

He looks over as Klaus quotes song lyrics. "TLC's Waterfalls," he comments. He was in his early 20s when that came out. Reached the hit lists in Norway too.

Viggo isn't asking about these people, but he's mentally noting down what Klaus rambles about. Not because he particularly wants to or thinks it's important, but it's just habit at this point. Presumably Five is his brother, since he's Four.

"No idea. I haven't seen a single person who works here, besides that lady," he says, gesturing behind them in the direction of Gal Friday. "Maybe we can just help ourselves."

Klaus brightens a bit when he recognizes the song. Sure, that means he’ll have to try harder to sound wiser than he is, but he is nothing if not determined to sound wise and do little to nothing to understand this place. Not until Five shows up. Or Diego. Diego’s not really the smart one, but he might try to kill someone and that’s entertaining enough. As long as apocalypses and world-ending is off the table, he’s not stressing himself.

“The gal with a winning smile,” Klaus says with a laugh. “I guess it’s not PC to laugh at someone for not having a face, but…” He shrugs. “I’m pretty good at distractions if we need them. Also I can run pretty fast if necessary.” He wasn’t above stealing, so if the police don’t care, he definitely doesn’t. Unless he wants to fake arrest him in bed. That’s fine.

Viggo's the sort of guy who would steal if the situation required it... but then he would make sure whatever was stolen was returned or reimbursed afterwards. All depending on circumstances, of course. Current circumstances being they're either in a dream/coma/afterlife, or they've been kidnapped. So either way it doesn't seem too important.

He glances back at Klaus as he offers his skills. He definitely seems like someone who'd be good at distractions. "Duly noted," he answers.

He just keeps leading the way, not offering up any more conversation or asking any more questions. It seems like Klaus is quite capable of carrying the conversation if he wants to.

Klaus has far too much experience with both stealing and carrying conversations with people who don’t seem to be the super verbose sorts. He’s done it with Five, Diego, and even dick!Ben. Though Ben was just a hard ass with soft center. Clearly hadn’t been disappointed enough to give up on trying to impress Dad. Not that he could talk.

“I guess you’ve got plenty skills with the cop stuff, huh? How long have you been doing that?” Yes, he was just trying to find things to talk about.

He considers something for a brief moment, mind shifting entirely because he realizes he’s hungry and hasn’t eaten since all the terrible things started. “Do you think this place has waffles?” They wouldn’t be like Grace’s, but no one ever made them like your robot mom. It was probably because the smiley-face breakfasts were still sweet even when you got old and never came home except to steal from your dad occasionally.

"A long time," he answers. It's well over 15 years now, but Viggo doesn't usually discuss his past with strangers. He often doesn't discuss his past with friends, for that matter. Depending on the subject. There's prickly things that most people know not to mention.

He looks back again at the second question. "You hungry?" he asks. Try as he might to resist it, there's always a little bit of a protective instinct. "I'm sure there's someplace that has food," he says, leading the way and getting into an elevator.

The way from the cabin to deck one hadn't really taken him past much beyond guest services and some gift shops, but he'd spotted a sign pointing towards more stores on the decks above. Now his legs work again, it's easy enough to make their way to deck five.

Klaus shrugs. He’s also used to that. Ask questions, get vague answers. It’s fine. Even if it’s not very sociable of people.

“I mean, almost always, but there’s not a lot of time to get food when the world is ending for the third time in a row and you’re trying not to die or…you know…stuff like that.” He doesn’t go into a lot of detail, but who is surprised by the world ending?

“Maybe we can grab a bottle of something and then get food. And that way whatever potential emotional turmoil can be dealt with.” And he has a lot of emotional turmoil to deal with.

Viggo narrows his eyes about Klaus talking about the world ending. He simultaneously thinks the guy definitely has something wrong with him, but is also reluctantly curious to actually hear whatever wild stuff he has to say.

He huffs a laugh at the idea that emotional turmoil can in any way be dealt with.

Once they're on the right deck, he's keeping an eye out for signs and such. There's a lot of stuff here, it looks like. The first bar they pass is some fancy cocktail bar, and Viggo heads inside. No one in sight. "Hello?" he calls out, just in case someone is in the back. When no one answers, he just goes and smoothly hops over the counter.

Klaus has plenty of wild things to say. He's sure that most of his life sounds pretty boring, but then he's not exactly used to the fact that most people don't deal with the kind of things he does. The constant end of the world drama and everything else seems pretty standard, right? But maybe only they knew about it. "What?"

He slips in quietly after Viggo once they reach a bar. He doesn't see anything, so that's weird. There are people out and about, but no one here? And hey, who is he to argue with a cop that's already stealing? He's not about to feel bad for stealing shit when the police are already doing it. There's nothing really useful to steal here. Nothing that looks like it could get him much money. Outside of the alcohol. He doesn't outwardly comment on how hot it was anyway. It seems the better of two choices.

"Do they have anything expensive?" Not that he knows expensive shit that well. He has a vague understanding of it because of his days in the cult and with his sugar momma, but that feels like a lifetime ago.

He is unaware of how hot he may or may not be jumping over bars and stealing alcohol. He jumped off a balcony a couple weeks ago, Klaus should've seen that.

"They seem to have just about everything," he answers, picking through the bottles. If it's this easy to grab stuff, he doubts there's anyone Klaus could sell this to who couldn't get it for themselves, so he assumes Klaus just means if there's anything rare and tasty. "Got any requests?" he asks, bringing up a bottle of whiskey for himself.

Klaus probably would have been impressed. If he jumps off a balcony, it's all pain. He's not keen on jumping off anything at this point. It sounds like a bad idea.

"Huh." He moves closer after looking around again to see if there's anything that calls to him. "This is so weird. Why isn't anyone here?" He jumps when he spots a fancy cocktail on the bar next to him. "Is that normal?" He realizes moments later that that's probably a dumb question. Still, he goes down the bar a little before climbing over it rather ungracefully. He tucks his shirt in just slightly and grabs a bottle of rum, slipping it down his shirt along with a bottle of bourbon. "How many bottles is too many, do you think?"

"I haven't seen a single employee since I got here, except for faceless lady," he answers, looking around. There isn't really a back area, as far as he can tell. Nothing about this ship seems particularly normal.

He reluctantly smiles a bit at Klaus's somewhat clumsy way of climbing over the bar. And then again at him stuffing bottles down his shirt.

"I think you've got enough already," he points out, grabbing a glass and pouring himself some whiskey, gulping down half of it. It feels nice. The slight sting. "Just have a drink here."

Klaus hasn't seen anyone either, which was why the weirdness of the cocktail showing up out of nowhere is there. He misses the smile, but wrinkles his nose at the I think you've got enough already. "I mean, if you're already stealing, does it really matter how much or how little it is?"

But he guesses he can just leave the alcohol he has in his shirt at that...for now. He eyes the cocktail for a moment. Sure, he guesses that it could be poisoned, but also, maybe he's supposed to just accept that things here are weird and drink the cocktail. So he takes it and takes a small sip. "Weird as hell, but it tastes okay." He lets a few minutes pass. "And I'm not dead yet."

"Yes," he answers plainly. It matters both in the eyes of the law, and for the person being stolen from.

He narrows his eyes at the drink. That's too fancy for Klaus to have made it just now. "Where'd that come from?"

Ooooookay. Klaus still doesn’t think it matters, but if he’s gonna be so serious about it…

There’s a shrug. “I don’t know. It just showed up and who am I to refuse a spontaneous and free drink?” He may have been thinking about it, but not exactly this. “Maybe this is a weird and creepy bar. I can usually see ghosts, but I can’t see shit here.” He shrugs. He’s not surprised, but that’s another story. “Don’t worry about it.”

In this situation? No, it probably doesn't matter. Which is why he won't really stop Klaus if he wants to take more. But there's also the matter of how many bottles he wants to carry around, or drink all at once.

"You can usually see ghosts?" he asks, more curious about that then rest of the weird stuff Klaus has been saying.

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)