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

[treading_water]

Dark eyes watch the way she regards her weapons, but Ed hasn't turned his on her, yet. Of course as she introduces herself, he completely forgets the threat he's in the middle of making. She's said something incredibly interesting and he's going to need a bit more information.

Reholstering his gun, he moves across the room to address her closely. "Blackbeard." he corrects, "Or Captain. Nothing else." His own crew doesn't call him Captain Teach. Disregard the small intermission where he'd been addressed as Eddie- a moment of vulnerability and nothing more.

He waves her off, "I know what you meant." he mutters (fan fiction exists in the 18th century, he'll assure her later), "I'm fine. Who are these folks you're referring to?"

[crushed_pearls]

Erin holds a hand out in a small gesture; no closer, please. "My apologies, Captain. Pretty quick after my arrival Johnny Summer said you were aboard and I was rather excited - wait." Her head cocks, in a birdlike gesture, and she murmurs something to herself ("Two nickels?"). "The Blackbeard they spoke of had been here awhile, a lot longer than I've been. Have you...just come aboard, Captain?"

[treading_water]

Johnny Summer is not a name Ed's familiar with... but he supposes if word got around that he'd been there, perhaps that isn't the source. It is odd though, that if the general populace aboard this ship is really from all different times and places, that anyone would recognize him.

"Correct..." he replies carefully, his gaze drifting from her as he pieces together the puzzle in his mind. "An imposter, I reckon..." he says lowly to himself, much similar to the ohrase she'd uttered that Edward didn't understand.

"What else has been said about this Blackbeard?" he asks, looking at her again, "Do you know where to find him?"

[crushed_pearls]

"No," Erin admits. "We never met, and the man who might know has gone...missing. Captain Stede Bonnet, charming fellow." Grief shadows her face. "...Real talent for raising low spirits. People just. Disappear here, sometimes, but he was the first I knew. Here All Hallows, just...gone, All Saints."

That gunpowder haze fizzles, wetly. "My apologies. You've come at a bad time. Did you want to uh. Get into a bar with less chandelier? I'd need to ask you to pour."

Does Erin know the ghosts will make drinks? Technically! But others have always taken pleasure in making them themselves here.

[treading_water]

The utterance of that name makes Edward's blood run cold. Bonnet. He could choke. And already missing? How so very like him.

Edward Teach isn't good at masking his emotions. His eyes are big and expressive, the tremble in his breath apparent. "If he's gone then you've all been done a favor." he hisses, frowning. It's no use getting himself worked up over two ships passing in the night. Not here. Not now.

"Yeah." he replies after a moment and a deep sigh, "I need to get pissed."

[crushed_pearls]

Erin sighs. "Stede did say he has that effect on people. Can't see why, but...well. I won't defend him. C'mon, I'll take you to where the whiskey is."

Erin leads the way to Tauva a good solid Eight Feet Away At All Times, hands in the pockets of her skirt, chewing over the implications. Did the Captain really just need another Blackbeard immediately? Is it, as April said, the product of random chance?

(Oh fuck did we wish him here?)

...Head voice. Since when do our wishes get granted?

(...Newwww world new life?)

Uh-huh.

"So, Captain! On brighter topics, I've got good news -" because starting with the bad news did NOT go over well last time. "- the supplies on this ship are self-renewing. No rationing, no running out - no, I lie, the buffet does change its menu pretty often so you might technically run out of something specific. The point being you won't starve, thirst, or go without your liquor here. There's even actual potable water. I can barely get that shit at home."

[treading_water]

"Bonnet will say anything to gain your trust." he snaps, "Don't let yourself be manipulated like the rest of them."

It's all he'll say for now. Best left at that. Edward wouldn't want to get too vulnerable with a stranger, anyway. Whiskey is better. Whiskey numbs the pain. Edward would take whiskey over love, any day.

No need to ration is good news... but it's also a very good way for the mysterious Captain of this ship to manipulate his passengers. Get them used to a certain level of comfort. Rip it away when they become a threat. Best not to get too comfortable.

"There's a catch, I'm sure..." he replies, keeping up.

[crushed_pearls]

"Depends on how you define catch," Erin answers philosophically. When they get into Tauva she takes a seat at the bar; best to let Blackbeard decide if he wants to stand behind the bar or drag a bottle out. Either way she digs a pair of cigars out of a belt pouch and lays 'em on the bar, scooting one some distance away; for her conversation partner, if he wants it. "Welcome aboard the Serena Eterna, Captain Blackbeard. Depending on your perspective we are either prisoners or denizens of the tiny world that is this ship and its immediate environs, and the price of passage is that the god of this world feeds on our passion. So: free food, free water, free medicine, because dead people don't feel feelings. Get murdered? You get to wake up the next day, hale and hearty - because dead people don't feel feelings."

Erin cuts the tip of her own cigar with a belt knife; no sudden motions, and she sets the blade aside when she's done. "But I've started to look at it like this: are any of us from a world without suffering? This one's not so different in that regard."

[treading_water]

Sliding into a seat beside her, Edward scoffs at the explanation, taking the offered cigar and using his own knife to slice it open as she had before resheathing it.

"Fish in a barrel." he mutters, digging into his pocket for matches. He lights his, then offers her the match while it's still lit. "We're being kept alive and content until this so-called god is ready to scale us for his dinner."

There's a long exhale of cigar smoke as he comes to this realization. "Fuck that. I'm no one's fucking meal plan."

[crushed_pearls]

"Oh, no, it's actually worse," Erin admits; she takes the match with a grateful nod and lights up, enjoying the flavor for a moment. The thought strikes her that, you know, the ghosts at the bar are working again, she can just order drinks, so she orders a pair of old fashioneds before she continues - "Near as we can tell if you can't endure, you just fade away into this...Nothing. A Nothing you're acutely aware of the entire time. You ever hear a preacher say that Hell is the presence of time and the absence of God?"

She turns in her seat to face Blackbeard with a wan smile. "Most of the details are in the Black Binder, in the library, or at least details as best we can tell. I'll admit, the idea of one of my personal idols taking a crack at this is enticing, but I gotta throw a complication into this puzzle: main force hasn't succeeded yet. We're not the first set of passengers. We're not even like, the second. All attempts to kill its god and master have failed to date, be they might, magic, or mayhem. Fun times, yeah?"

[treading_water]

"I'm not a religious man." he mutters, listening to her ramble with mixed focus. He's heard this before. He's seen the book. What most consider impossible, Edward Teach considers a challenge up to his standards.

"Then killing him isn't the answer." he replies with an exhale of smoke, "Fun indeed."

[crushed_pearls]

"Got it in one." The phantasmal bartenders set the drinks down, and she slides Blackbeard his. "Whiskey and water, bit of sugar and bitters. Not much different than drinking straight whiskey but different enough to tell. Don't order this drink with rum, it doesn't end how you think it might."

Erin takes a sip of hers. A thoughtful sound floats from her throat. "...You mind if I ask a personal question, Captain? No deep dark secrets, just...one professional to another."

[treading_water]

Ed exhales again, taking the drink as offered. He's not used to someone mixing him a drink, but anything that feels elevated is very much in his interests.

"Ask away." he responds, taking a sip. She's been helpful thus far... he'll at least hear her out.

[crushed_pearls]

"...What was your exit? How'd you want it all to end?" There's a frank curiosity in Erin's tone; not a fangirl to her idol but more like a young sailor who dreams of being her own captain. "You built a legend that made your shadow larger than any other man's on the sea to the point where hundreds of years later we still speak your name and no one ever asks 'which Blackbeard'. There's only ever been the one. But no one can wage war forever, right?"

[treading_water]

Ed squints, "I don't know what you mean." he answers into his drink before placing it back down. "Are you asking me how I want to fucking die?"

He shrugs, giving her a confused look, "Because I don't fucking know. The coolest way possible?"

[crushed_pearls]

"No, no no, though uh, noted." Erin considers informing him that he got a pretty fucking legendary death and then decides against it. "I'm talking life after piracy. Bowing out, y'know? Or, you know, not, there's been pirate emperors before. That lass out from China..."

Erin smiles over her drink in fond memory of beloved stories. "Anyway, that's the question. Y'know, a mercenary hopes to save up enough to retire and buy land or make a fortune and go merchant, a soldier wants a home to go to...what were you aiming at?"

[treading_water]

Ed's body language grows a bit more stiff after she elaborates. He doesn't know how to say he doesn't know. How do you tell a complete fucking stranger that you became a pirate out of necessity. That you became a legend, something to be feared, so that no one could ever hurt you again. That you decided it was much better to be the one feared than be the one afraid. That you continued on and on with no real goal other than survival. Retirement isn't an option for people in this trade. You do it until you die.

That's most of the story of course. There's something else. There's the fact that he'd met another man, one he gave his life for. He traded the legends in for love instead, and when wall was said and done he thought they could have one more chance- they could run off together and just be whatever they needed to be. Have their own happy ending. This of course, was a fantasy and one Edward never deserved. One he had been foolish to think anyone would want to have with him. He is not a good person. He is a monster... and that's all he'll ever be.

He cannot tell anyone this, let alone a stranger. Edward frowns, fingers taking the cigar from his lips and stamping it out in a nearby ashtray. "Changed my mind." he grunts, taking up his drink again and this time tossing it back in an impressive gulp, the glass slammed back down on the bar. "Not feeling up for questions..." he mutters, standing to leave.

[crushed_pearls]

"As you wish," Erin says, a little wistfully. She makes no move to get up herself; that might be intruding, among other things. Still, at least she got to meet Blackbeard Hisownself and give him a proper welcome.

Speaking of: "If you have any further need of me I bunk in Cabin 134. Glad to have you aboard, Captain. I hope your voyage can become a pleasant one."

[treading_water]

Pleasant. Somehow he doubts that.

He waves her off before pushing out of the room and out of sight, practically holding his breath until he has some privacy. It's only then that be allows his emotions to take hold... no one wants to see a grown man with a gun sobbing his mascara off.