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TEST DRIVE MEME #7

1. before she hung up, she said she was a skeleton
[there is no note in your cabin. no forces stall your legs if you decide to walk anywhere but the atrium. in fact, for the first time in hundreds of years, newly arrived passengers on the Serena Eterna are waking up with absolutely no guidance. nothing but your fellow passengers in the halls - or maybe in your bed.
perhaps you end up in the atrium eventually anyway. it is where guest services is, and where Gal Friday… actually hasn’t been in a few days. until today. and she is visibly frazzled, her hair uncoiffed, her suit rumpled, something a bit like a bruise blossoming down from her hairline and over her smooth features. more papers than ever cover her desk, and when she turns to face you, her voice is as cheerful as ever, but audibly strained.]
Welcome aboard the Serene Eterna! [a pause] You know how to work a life vest, right? Everyone knows that! You don’t need me to teach you that!
[a light bulb burns out behind her head.]
… I’ll get right on that!
[freedom includes the freedom to not know what the fuck is happening. maybe you should reflect on that.]
2. grandma went and can't stop screaming
[it’s something about the lighting fixtures, this month. has the Bellona always had a massive chandelier? maybe. who knows. don’t ask questions. either way, in the stillness of the night, or day, or late afternoon, there is a noise like a cord being cut, and the chandelier plunges into the audience below.
it hits nothing, of course. no one is ever in the theater. and that, perhaps, is what the trouble is.
so, the chandelier starts to… travel, one could say. it starts to hang in various rooms: the dining halls, the bars, the clubs… sometimes, if you’re out on the pool deck and suddenly realized you’re under a shadow, you can glance up and see it suspended 20 feet above your head, securely fastened to nothing in particular and yet remaining perfectly in place.
until it isn’t. until it falls, crystal shattering on whatever surface it lands on: floor, table, person… and, wherever the chandelier goes, a lilting childish voice follows it, singing without any obvious source.]
Ring-a-ring of roses, a pocket full of posies… ashes, ashes, we all…
3. jeff bezos murdered the infinite tommy bahama
[the lights of the Infinite Tommy Bahama go out three days into October.
barely an hour after its closure, the lights go on again, and a new banner is unfurled.

physically, it is the same store. you can even see the old signs hidden behind the new ones. however, long gone are the tropical prints and khaki dress shorts. now, one can purchase any number of officially licensed or legally distinct Halloween costumes, decorations, and various other haunted accoutrements, leading back as far as the eye can see, and then farther still. is that a Gal Friday mask? spooky! well, at least you’ll be good and ready for the Halloween party at the end of the month, which is absolutely just a normal party and in no way whatsoever anything even remotely resembling a trick. there are only treats at The Infinite Spirit Halloween!
note: bahamanuel is still here! somewhere! it kinda looks like dan bongino.]
no subject
He reaches for Dedue's hand with one of his, his shoulder with the other. Solid contact strikes him like lightning, makes his stomach lurch. He'd half believed this was one of his visions -- it fits the pattern, Dedue sprawled bloodied on the floor -- but no. No, this is real.
"You're here," Dimitri breathes. You're -- " His expression crumples. "Oh, Goddess, you're here. You're -- "
Before he can stop himself or even reconsider, he drags Dedue into a hug, as tight as he dares, burying his face against the side of Dedue's neck.
"I'm so sorry," he says, muffled.
no subject
In spite of all the differences between the frightened, starved, half-mad prince he had just rescued and the young man standing before him, Dedue knows this is really His Highness. He can tell.
Dimitri grips him in a hug, and Dedue's eyes widen with the suddenness of the embrace. Dedue should not react to this. If he were not so weak at present, he would be able to force himself to stand still. But he caves in to the small indulgence, cautiously wrapping an arm across those broad shoulders that quiver with emotion.
"You need not apologize. You are safe and well. That is what matters to me."
no subject
Anyone who knows him here would still describe Dimitri as stiff and overly formal, but the few months he's been here have softened much of the distance and decorum of a prince. Dedue is so wonderfully solid, his arm around Dimitri's shoulders heavy and firm; when they're both standing, his chin rests perfectly atop Dimitri's head, his heartbeat steady beneath Dimitri's head. For a moment, Dimitri allows himself to melt.
Then he takes a deep breath, gives his companion a final squeeze, and draws himself up. "We should go. There's a -- " threatening rustle from a deeper aisle -- "creature of sorts in here. We call it the Bahamanal -- "
No, no, later. Dimitri's thoughts scatter like doves. Dedue is here, he's here, so much Dimitri's hoped and feared and longed for and hated himself for wanting, and he can hardly believe this is real let alone think straight.
"You're hurt. Lean on my shoulders. I'll show you to the infirmary and explain what I can."
no subject
But he knows deep down that these are lies he tells himself.