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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.]
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"Don't." he grunts, hand moving up in a hard stop position. "Nice touch sending the other one, by the way, have to assume his ass is dead now, too..." he growls, frowning down at his drink. It's fine. It has to be fine... anything less and Edward will fucking kill himself.
"Got what you wanted. Don't rub it in."
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He hasn't given much thought to Jack. It is a shame. As disgusting as the man was, he did have his charms.
Don't miss all the baby-girls and acid pussy jokes, though.
A nod. What do you say to that? Izzy has gotten what he wanted. He's won. He's won both at home and here, isn't that fucking incredible. Unheard of, actually. He luxuriates in that concept for a moment, inwardly as not to preen. Maybe there's a little preening. He's an ornery little fucker, they both know that. Always has been, always will be.
Enough of him, then. Back to Edward. Back to settling him. Back to making sure he is content. Izzy knows there's work to be done there, too.
"Have you done a tour of the ship yet? That Mr. Spriggs is here. He's shown me a few places I think you'd find interesting."
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"The boy is here?" he peers at Izzy, clearly unhappy, "I killed him."
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What the fuck happened? Happens. Will have happened?
“Why?”
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"He had to go." he mutters, finding his drink again. "Sorry, Iz... know you liked that one."
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Lucius is tall, broad, delicate outwardly but, Izzy knows first hand now, carried by an iron core. He speaks his mind, he makes space for vulnerability, funny, charming when he wants to be, he is everything Izzy Hands is not. And under all of that, between them, was…is something charged and primed. He would have said electric if they had such a thing. Izzy never knew what the fuck to do with Lucius, or how to keep the boy from cutting his knees out from under him.
It had taken months and something called ‘trauma bonding’ here, to figure out what to do with Lucius was to lay him on his back.
Izzy looks slightly guilty before rebuffing the barb for being exactly that. A barb. Like he can’t just say yeah, actually, I do like him. He’s funny and simple and it’s easy. He gives incredible head. Let me have this.
Besides, Edward said he killed him. That’s big talk. Way more important and way too dangerous to answer with the concept of Izzy Has A Friend. That friend, specifically, which apparently now a problem. Love that.
“He has his uses.”
Tactful, look at him go.
“It’s been a long go, here. I keep him close.”
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"His uses. Right." he mutters. Fine. He has uses... Edward will leave that one for now. He has bigger problems, anyway. "Tell you what..." Ed sighs, eyebrows rising high on his forehead. "You can keep him as close as you like. But I want the other one gone."
The other one. The one so far up Izzy’s ass that he can't recognize that there's a fucking hierarchy. The one that shoved a gun in Ed's side. Ed can handle Lucius... but what he refuses to deal with is a liability that doesn't know his fucking place. On a different world, Blackbeard would have taken his life without a second thought... but as he's discovered, that means fucking nothing, here.
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Only the acceptance he reaches, isn't the acceptance you'd expect.
"Pratt will heel, Ed. I know he threatened you- I know you're angry, but listen to me. He is loyal, stupid, and we need the man power."
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"He put a gun to my side, after suggesting that I was your employee, Israel." he hisses, leaning forward, "Men have died for less. I have had them skinned and dragged behind our ship and you have happily enabled it."
The unspoken question being: What makes this one special?
"His existence on my crew sends a clear message that I am a fucking pushover--- quality over quantity, Iz. I'm being fucking serious."
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All this time trying to find out who he is without Blackbeard, only to reunite properly and, turns out, he's someone Blackbeard doesn't like. Or clashes with, at least.
Oh god, what if he's someone Blackbeard doesn't like? Has he gone soft? Truly?
Izzy's expression hardens for a moment and as Ed leans in, he leans back, unused to and overwhelmed by the intensity directed solely at him.
"I know. I know you are, it's-" messy. Complicated. Confusing.
"He saved my life. For real, from a death I wouldn't have returned from."
Ope, there it is. A life debt. What a horrible, weighty thing. Unfortunately, also something Izzy takes very seriously. So where he could fold immediately, should fold immediately and stay down, he can't. Not even against Edward. His heart is like a rabbit's.
"Just let me- I'll punish him. You punish him and I'll- I'll trade you the girl. Okay? Fair?" Please.
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"You'll trade me for the girl?" he scoffs. At least she had the decency to run away. "Oh. How gracious of you." he answers mockingly. "But it sounds to me like I'm getting the shit-end of that deal. Tell me, Izzy... would you take that deal?"
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Which seems to be about grand fucking all right now. He knows Edward is angry about The British, he knows that, but this angry? God, it's so fucking petty. Yes, he's asking for a special condition and no, he probably doesn't deserve it, and that just fucking smarts something ugly.
He tried. He did. But Edward will always, ultimately, win. That's part of why he's so fantastic.
"Edward..." it's just pathetic at this point. He is pathetic. He is pathetic because he has been praying for this. For his captain. For normalcy. He can't get it and then not be grateful. Not do everything in his power to make the best of it. Embrace it. Embrace him.
This is a reminder, Izzy realizes, of who he really is and who he needs to be. Who he has always been. He's strayed. He will choose to be grateful, and cut out all those weak parts of him which have been revealing themselves these last five months. They are not welcome.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll see to it."