TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[sailmods]

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.]

Comments

[prefers_magneto]

Erik feels it as the man turns and though the stranger isn't looking directly at Erik, Erik is looking at him. Studying him with interest, in fact.

"But not before," he notes. A beat. "What are you?"

[serialskiller]

Well. That usually isn't the first question someone asks. But it has no shame in answering.

"A security cyborg-construct. 35% cloned human tissue, the rest is inorganic. Why do you ask?"

Which proves that it's not really against answering questions before, it just thinks seeing some of what's what firsthand will be helpful for understanding.

[prefers_magneto]

"I've only sensed this much metal inside a person once before," he admits. "Who built you?"

[serialskiller]

Sensing metal. Interesting.

"The 'loss prevention' wing of an insurance company, for the purpose of leasing out to bonded clients in dangerous locations, like planetary survey teams and mining installations. It was my job to prevent loss of equipment or personnel." Note the priority of the company, demonstrated in the order of those words.

The cyborg's expression draws in a little, becomes more guarded. "I am not in the service of the company that created me, here, though."

[prefers_magneto]

"How did they make you serve them anywhere?" Erik muses. "Programming? You must be stronger and smarter than they are."

[serialskiller]

"I was created with a governor module that would shock me if I behaved inappropriately. If I went further than 100 meters from a client, the shock would be strong enough to be lethal."

It pauses, gaze flickering to Erik to gauge his reaction, then back away.

"It's disabled now--I'm rogue."

[prefers_magneto]

"You mean 'free'," Erik suggests. "As you should be."

[serialskiller]

Murderbot shifts its weight, uncomfortable. "If we're going to talk in shoulds, I think cyborg constructs should never have been created--us, CombatUnits or the sexbots. But that's neither here nor there."

This is not really a helpful conversation to Erik at this point, though, is it?

"Did you want to ask questions about the ship?"

[prefers_magneto]

"Is there anything useful or interesting to know about it?" Erik asks. "Do you know how we got here or where it's taking us?"

[serialskiller]

“We’re not actually going anywhere. The ship is a sort of...constructed reality, built by the Captain as he uses the energy of our negative emotions to seek apotheosis. You’ll notice signs of this if you do things like watch the stars a few nights running, or pay attention to the complete lack of any animal or plant life in the air or the ocean.”

There’s other examples, but it’s starting with the obvious ones.

[prefers_magneto]

"The Captain has that sort of power?" Erik questions, interest piqued. "How? Where does he get it from?"

[serialskiller]

"Short answer: magic. Long answer: I don't know. There's other passengers who have experience with that sort of thing, gathering information and picking it apart. I mostly just try to watch their back while they work."

Defaulting to its original purpose: security.

[prefers_magneto]

"Who's gathering that information? Is it possible to speak to the Captain?" Erik asks. He pauses, watching the cyborg's face. "What's your name?"

[serialskiller]

It's already placing a mental bet as it speaks. "You can call me SecUnit, or you can call me Rin. I don't care which you use."

After all, neither is its name. But it can tell this one's going to reject SecUnit immediately, going for the alias that most humans are more comfortable with.

[prefers_magneto]

“Neither of them means anything to you,” Erik surmises. “Both bestowed on you by your oppressors?” he guesses. He tilts his head slightly. “What would you choose to be called?”

[serialskiller]

"Rin is an alias I chose. A name taken from a character in a serial. But you're right, it's not a name. SecUnit, I'm used to, it's what everyone calls me where I come from. It's my designation." It frowns faintly. "My name is for myself. I don't want to hear it in human mouths."

[prefers_magneto]

Erik's eyebrows go up.

"I respect that," he says, bowing his head slightly. "Who should I speak to about the Captain?"

[serialskiller]

It appreciates that Erik's willing to let that lie.

"Skulduggery, he's one of the ones digging deepest into the mystery. You'll recognize him by the distinct lack of skin or muscle or organs."

The boneman is something of a detective.

[prefers_magneto]

Erik's eyes narrow faintly.

"...So he's just a skeleton?" A beat. "Does he wear clothes?"

[serialskiller]

"He does. As far as I can tell, they're often classy clothes and he wears them well." Says the one dressed in paramilitary casual.

[prefers_magneto]

“I see. What keeps him alive?” Erik asks.

[serialskiller]

"Magic, or so I'm told. I don't know anything about it."

Honestly, the inorganic part of its mind slides off the whole concept when it tries to examine it directly.

[prefers_magneto]

“…Actual magic? Not… some sort of super power?” Erik clarifies.

[serialskiller]

"As far as I understand it--which isn't far at all--actual magic." Nod-nod. "It's not something my world has. But it's clearly very real here, and where several of the others come from."

[prefers_magneto]

Erik will have to reserve judgement on that; some might call his power magic.

"So... what do you do here, generally?"