TEST DRIVE MEME #6

[sailmods]

1. took a time-traveling ride

[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 aboard! I'm so happy you could join us!

[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. so many dragons lurking out in the fog

[the cabins closest to the laundry room door will notice first. the steady hums and thuds of the machines, muffled by walls, are growing louder and louder, until it almost sounds like someone is bashing them against the wall. soapy water leaks from under the closed door, drips from the sides.

until someone is dumb enough to open it.

it’s a flash flood of detergent, a wave of foam and hot water feet high spilling forth and bringing down and along anything caught in its path. you’d think it would be a quick burst, that once whatever had built up in the room was released, the torrent would subside. but, it doesn’t. and a river of half-washed socks overtakes the hallways.]

3. I need protection from the things in my head

[The Infinite Tommy Bahama, everyone’s favorite destination for laid-back island sophistication, is a bit of an odd duck on the Promenade. and not just because it’s seemingly shoved between two extant locales, or because it’s a clothing store among bars and restaurants. for some reason, the unseen spirits that attend the other bars and shops, doing the routine duties necessary to keep such places running, seem to avoid this one, and it shows. clothes that are taken off the racks are not put back on again, leaving increasingly large piles of floral print and polyester blends in every aisle.

and that is where he is born.

there’s just so many piles. and they all look pretty much the same, each as tacky as the one next to it. it would be hard to notice that one has moved while your back was turned to it. difficult to realize that a singular pile has started stalking you through the stacks and racks. until it’s too late to turn back, until you’ve lost sight of the entrance, and the piles of discarded slacks and blazers seem to conglomerate into one massive beast, which rises from the polished wood floors and throws its weight upon its hapless victim.

the bahamanal strikes.]

Comments

[serialskiller]

Murderbot snorts and responds aloud. "So do you. I'd say to go look in a mirror, but you won't be able to turn around and go to the bathroom right now."

Thanks to that compulsory muster drill thing.

[perihellion]

Evidently not.

// This is a normal part of the process, I take it.

Perihelion manages a staggering step forward. Its arms fling out as its balance falters; the distraction negates any compensating effects, and it falls to one knee, wobbling dangerously.

// This body plan is ridiculous, it snaps. Now its internals are threatening to overheat -- wait, no, this data survived its compression, that's a physiological response to agitation: accelerated pulse and breathing with vasodilation to somatic muscles. But why capillaries of the face? Who designed this? Processing all of that, it snaps out a simple feed code to SecUnit, nonverbalized: // render assistance

Its body does something else autonomous -- an exceptionally deep breath with a forced exhale. SecUnit does not like physical contact with other organics. And Perihelion is more frightened and desperate than it realizes.

// Please.

[serialskiller]

"Are you blushing?" It is not going to laugh at ART. It is not going to laugh at ART. It is not going to laugh at ART.

It will, however, offer a hand. "If you need me to, I can carry you to the muster drill and give walking and talking lessons afterward. But you'll have to deal with me comparing you to a human infant while I do so."

[perihellion]

// That won't be necessary. Also, I hate you.

But it takes the offered hand.

Its feed-voice is perfectly serviceable, thank you. Its motor coordination, however, isn't, and it needs to get that under control sooner rather than later.

By the time they make it to the muster drill, Perihelion has graduated from QWOP shambling to a shaky but functional limp, still leaning heavily on SecUnit's arm. When the drill finishes,Perihelion sends SecUnit a snapshot of the lei. // What is the purpose of this.

[serialskiller]

In response to ART hating it, Murderbot drops a rude tone indicator sigil into the not-feed. As you do.

Anyway, the lei. Right, that's important.

"Keep it, that's important. Skulduggery says they have protective properties. You don't need to always wear it, but have it with you when things are happening."

[perihellion]

Perihelion does not send a rude tone indicator sigil back, because Perihelion is above that. (Smug maturity is so much more satisfying.)

// Who is Skulduggery? What sort of protective properties?

Perihelion takes some time to scrutinize the necklace. It misses its laboratories. The white discs are light and coarser to the touch than they look, with a porous structure. The brown objects (unidentified flora specimens?) are dry and make a satisfying rattling sound when shaken. The feathers are soft. (Touching feathers is nice. Perihelion grudgingly concedes that not everything about this body is a drawback.)

[serialskiller]

"He's another passenger. He's a skeleton and a detective. And an asshole, but I think he means well."

Not that the Asshole Research Transport would know anything about that, right?

"As for the necklace, no one's completely sure, other than that they help. You don't want to lose it."