TEST DRIVE MEME #7

[sailmods]

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.]

Comments

[prince_of_beasts]

"Darcyyy," Dimitri whines, demonstrating that he can, in fact, turn redder. He sinks to his knees in the interest of folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them. How could you do this to him, Darcy. He thought you were his FRIEND, Darcy. Deception! Disgrace! Betrayal most foul! "I don't sound like that," he grumbles, because he can't deny it, either.

He tilts his head to the side, exposing one eye to look up at Dedue. "I promise I'm not that bad," he pleads. Mumbling, he adds, "Anyway, it's all true."

[crushed_pearls]

"...Were y'all like, betrothed in the service of that prince that Dedue was talkin' about?" Erin asks casually, between bites of her food. "I'm getting real betrothed vibes."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Gay," Darcy coughs. But hey, it's not like she isn't happy for him.

Even if this means functionally losing her best friend here.

Still, the Prince part is Dimitri's story to tell, and she shrugs.

"You do sound a lot like that is the thing."

[glassaxolotl]

“No,” Dedue frowns, trying to push down all the intense feelings that brings up for him.

“We have both served under His Highness’ name for many years.” This is not the truth but also not technically incorrect.

He adds, “A Faerghan noble and a man of Duscur would not be betrothed. That is not done.” He says this as if it is a simple fact of life.

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri didn't know he could feel this many emotions at once, which is impressive given how many emotions Dimitri feels at baseline.

Dedue makes a far more graceful save than he could have managed, though even in passing Dimitri flinches at his title. Goddess -- if they only could talk in private -- though in a rare moment of social foresight and an even rarer moment of caring, Dimitri is not going to make a fuss about going off alone with Dedue.

When he feels less like he's about to catch fire, he straightens, at least enough to pull his nose out of his elbow. "... yes. It's ... " Hard to look at the other two. Instead, he explains to Dedue, "Erin and Darcy are trustworthy. I've told them a little of what happened in Duscur, though not all, and I've tried to leave to you the parts that are yours to tell. You don't have to explain any more than you wish to."

[crushed_pearls]

"Yeah. I won't press you for details here but. Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but Duscur is as far from here as Faerghus is. Y'all could literally just get married and no one from home would either notice or care." A little, philosophical shrug. "Silver linings, youngbloods. The things you didn't choose for yourself can be left behind."

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy elbows Erin in the side, because that's too far and she should know it.

"You can ignore pretty much everything Erin says pretty comfortably, don't worry about it. Should we get Dedue to the infirmary first, or find somewhere more private to talk?"

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue’s face is cold as he glares at Erin. “...Do not say that.”
He means it as much about Duscur as it is about Dimitri.

He glances at Darcy. In a quieter voice, he adds, “Infirmary. Please.”

[prince_of_beasts]

Goddess, they're going to have to talk about that. What can Dimitri even say? When he hasn't yet reconciled it himself? When he'd had time to adjust to the separation before learning it was permanent?

Later, though. When they're alone. For the moment, Dimitri gets to his feet, offering Dedue his hand. "The infirmary's on the lowest deck. I'll help you there."

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue takes Dimitri’s hand and pulls himself up. For a moment, his bad leg gives out, and he stumbles against Dimitri’s side. “I am fine,” he says quietly as he stabilizes himself.

[crushed_pearls]

"Don't worry, the doctors here are top-notch," Erin assures Dedue. "Go on, get well dude. Amazingly enough this ship is full of the kinds of folks who'll try to help."

[saltwaterlungs]

"And people who will make things worse without thinking," Darcy snaps, giving Erin a small shove on the chest and leading the way out.

[prince_of_beasts]

Is it bad, that this familiarity is almost comforting? Dimitri huffs and wraps an arm around Dedue's lower back. "You're obviously not. Lean on Darcy, if you like, but let someone help you. You know I can take your weight."

[glassaxolotl]

The arm around Dedue’s back sends a rush of butterflies through him.
“Mm,” he nods, too overwhelmed by everything that has happened to fight anymore.

[saltwaterlungs]

"I'll get the doors," she offers, and does- darting out ahead to hold the doors for them. She keeps her eyes averted, because they don't need to feel more seen than they already are; either of them.

"Just down this way and to the elevator, you should be able to get yourselves the rest of the way."

[prince_of_beasts]

"Thank you, Darcy. I can properly introduce you later." Dimitri offers up a wan smile. He's more concerned with Dedue, who he'd expected to argue over accepting his help. Supporting him is no effort at all, but Dimitri can feel how heavily Dedue is leaning on him, and it frightens him. Erin had said she'd saved Dedue from bleeding out; Dimitri has to wonder how accurate that is -- if he could have lost his companion without even knowing he'd arrived. (Part of him, paranoid and mistrusting, wonders if Erin is herself; wondered if she'd attacked Dedue to rescue him and manufacture good faith.)

Still -- it's comforting, and it revives something warm and fragile in his chest, to have his companion pressed up against his side like this. Even under the circumstances.

He wants to ask Dedue what happened, but that's far from their greatest concern. He's content to make the trip to the infirmary in silence, though he bristles, glaring and on edge, at anyone they pass.

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue nods in thanks to Darcy and leaves with Dimitri.

They walk in silence for some time. Dedue knows Dimitri well enough to know he’s absolutely wondering what happened. But Dedue doesn’t know how to talk about it. Just the idea of opening his mouth to speak the words feels draining.

Instead, he finally says, voice cautious, “Erin believed you were a knight. Is it unsafe to refer to you as Your Highness here?”

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri flinches at his title. It's been months since he's heard it spoken, and it feels like a manacle around his neck, like a familiar cage to a neglected dog.

"Not ... unsafe, no. When I first arrived, I feared it might be, but that wasn't the case. Quite the opposite. Did Erin explain that the passengers here are from different worlds? We're the only two from Fódlan here. In most of them, only a few nations have kings, and their power is greatly diminished. Some worlds don't have kings at all. I don't have any authority here. 'The prince of Faerghus' means nothing to people who've never heard of it."

Dimitri looks up at Dedue, pleading.

"I don't want them to know me as a prince. It doesn't matter to them. I don't want them to think that I think it should matter. I -- I can have friends here. It may be selfish, but ... I don't want that to change."

[glassaxolotl]

It stirs something wistful inside of him to think about lands without royalty. Duscur was that way too. There was once a time in Dedue’s life where kings, princes, and castles were foreign words that meant very little to him. Words he would hear traveling Faerghans say in the port city where Dedue’s father set up shop, but that seldom had impact on his own life. Dedue feels worlds away from that point in his life. The idea that he could just forget it all now feels like a painful mockery. It’s too sweet, too tempting, in a way that cuts at his heart like a knife.

He tries not to think about how much it hurts when Dimitri says he finally has friends here. It’s foolish to get upset. Dedue was the one who abruptly shifted what they had into a work relationship. He can’t have it both ways.

“Then I will not say your title when we are in public,” Dedue says. It’s the best compromise he can manage. Not saying anything is easier than saying the wrong thing, and he still can’t even utter the name. It’s all been drilled out of him.

[prince_of_beasts]

A downside to being pressed so close together: Dedue can feel the wet quiver in Dimitri's breath as he releases it. " ... thank you. I won't ask for anything more. I know you -- " He's not sure how to finish that sentence; doesn't want to assume anything about what Dedue thinks or feels -- "I won't pressure you."

Dedue has enough to adjust to as is. Even if he'd been inclined to try, Dedue's reaction to Erin squashed that impulse.

"I haven't said you're my vassal, when I've spoken of you. It would have given away too much about my own standing." Which is the practical excuse for his personal discomfort. "But ... I've tried to avoid calling you my friend, either. I think it's what they assume, anyway, but I didn't know if you'd object, if you ever had cause to learn."

And now he does, for all that Dimitri had desperately hoped otherwise.

[glassaxolotl]

He knows he’s made Dimitri upset. But he doesn’t know what he would’ve said differently.

“The people here. They do not know of the Tragedy of Duscur? They do not have an opinion on the people of Duscur?”

[prince_of_beasts]

"Nothing save what I've told them -- that it was an atrocity beyond measure; that your people were, and are, unjustly maligned; that I promised justice to the living, and truth to the dead." Dimitri's back and shoulders tense; his voice shifts deeper before the flicker of fury fades into regret. "By the time I reconsidered saying even that much, it was too late. I don't know if I could have borne no one knowing. It's too much of what I was -- what I am."

He'd needed it, his oaths and obligations an anchor in this alien world, their recitation a way of sinking tooth and nail into his past and his identity. He still can't reconcile himself without them.

"I've tried not to connect you to it, as far as I could," he goes on. "I don't know if I've succeeded. But I -- I haven't told anyone how we met. I haven't said your name when I've spoken of it. I thought ... I was given the chance to define myself apart from my past. You deserve the same."

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue considers the implications of what Dimitri is saying. There’s a possibility that, if he really wants, he could just disconnect from Duscur entirely and not bring it up again. No one need know where he is from.

But... that does not sit right with him at all. He thinks back to his conversations with Mercedes, about how he still carries the culture within him wherever he goes, even if there is no place he can call home. It’s something that has given him comfort, to think of himself not just as one person but as part of a path towards future generations. A future where maybe preserving all this knowledge and culture can be important again.

Even with the methodical scrubbing away of all traces of his heritage, he still has always put the earring on, still carried seeds of Duscur plants from one place to the next.

He still feels shame when he talks of Duscur. Still anticipates the accusations against his culture, even when those accusations fail to arise.

But he thinks about how curious some of his friends were to learn more back when they were at school - Ashe asking him about the seasonings and cooking techniques he used, Mercedes asking about the different gods of Duscur - and he LIKED talking about it.

Maybe this could also be a place where it is ok to talk about Duscur without judgement.

“Thank you for giving me that option,” Dedue says. “I would still like to say where I am from,” he admits. “I would like to be able to be proud of it again, someday.”

And if Dedue isn’t dragging Dimitri down by being visibly from Duscur next to him, then a lot of things change.

“It does not bother me if others view us as friends,” he says. “But I have sworn an oath to the prince of Faerghus. And my duty comes first. That is what I will tell them.”

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri hadn't thought Dedue would want to disavow his culture, any more than Dimitri himself could stop being Faerghan. Still, it's good to hear him declare it, and Dimitri offers up a fragile smile. "I'm glad to hear that."

It's not just a question of culture, though. Dedue's status as a survivor, and his relationship to the Tragedy -- he can define what those things mean to him, choose what he wants to reveal and how. He can have at least some privacy about his past, his fears, his grief, without his appearance and his circumstances betraying his story at a glance. It is, perhaps, some bittersweet consolation for their severance from that past.

It does not bother me if others view us as friends. What does that mean? Should Dimitri take some hope from it? Or is it a polished, tactful way of closing the door on the possibility, even here? The latter, Dimitri has to assume, if even now Dedue is talking about duty.

But, selfish, stubborn fool that he is, Dimitri's heart still hopes he's wrong.

For the best that they reach the infirmary where they do. Maneuvering through the door is a complicated affair, given that neither of them is exactly slender. The room is mostly empty, apart from a lump huddled on a far cot with a single blue braid spilling over the covers. Jinx doesn't respond to their entrance, or to Dimitri's voice, so she's likely deep enough asleep they won't disturb her. "That's odd. Watson or Tendi is usually here ... that may be for the best, for now. I can contact Watson, but there are some things I should explain, if Erin hasn't, and I'd rather we sit down first."

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue nods and says, "If you trust Watson, then please contact them."

Slowly, he sits down and lets out a sigh of relief. While limping to the infirmary, he'd been gritting his teeth through the pain until he'd almost forgotten just how bad it was. Now, he doesn't know if he can get up again.