sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #7

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!tdm

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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Klaus' self preservation skills are perhaps a lot lower than most and also the fact that he knew Stede before sort of makes him like...whatever. It's fine.

"Cool." Well, he's just gonna go ahead and put his order in, getting two beers because what's the point in being reasonable from the start. And since apparently getting fucking pissed is on the agenda, Klaus figures he's gonna need to start off strong.

"You're speaking my language, buddy. Order as much as you want. It doesn't cost shit."

No cost for anything? Great. Perfect. Maybe this place isn't so terrible.

Edward orders two drinks for himself as well, whatever's strongest on tap, and then shoves himself into a seat and begins chugging. He finishes one of his two drinks in one go, just to get it out of the way. A round of applause for alcoholism.

"Not bad for ghost piss." is the only thing out of his mouth. You can't prove it's not ghost piss, right? Unless that'd be invisible, too.

Klaus watches him chug the first drink with a hint of awe before drinking at least half of his drink. He's reaaaaally glad that he's not like...fucking in the middle of drinking when he calls it ghost piss, though, cause they've definitely started laughing at this point. The drink would have become a spittake. And he is not looking to be murdered.

"Sorry, man, but that was funny." They grin widely, taking another sip. "I really hope it's not ghost piss, though." He pauses. "I mean, sure I chewed on that bagel from a dumpster once, but like..." He pauses, considering the fact of how little Blackbeard probably knows about what that means. "A dumpster is like a big trash can. But you can stand inside of it. If you want to...Like if you want to find something you sort of accidentally threw away."

Yeeeeeep. Gonna drink some more beer.

Ed shrugs, "I'm fucking hysterical." he replies like it's common knowledge, eyeing Klaus as they explain the whole... dumpster bagel thing. Okay then.

"You'll chew on a garbage bagel but you won't drink a ghost's piss?" he replies after a pause of his own. "Grow up, mate."

This time Klaus does choke on his drink, coughing as he tries to recover from it. "Oh my god." Okay, so he's still coughing, but he's also laughing. Why is this so hilarious to him?

"I think I love you. Like in a friendship way." Oh, he needs a minute to fully recover before he finishes the first drink and then raises his next glass. "To ghost piss."

Klaus choking on his drink is funnier to him than anything he's said thus far, but Ed somehow contains his laughter. He's supposed to be Emo right now, do you mind? There definitely isn't the hint of a smile forming at the edge of his lips or anything!!

Ed raises his glass as Klaus does, "Yeah. May we never encounter their shit."

"I think you're trying to kill me, buddy." He's definitely giggling to himself, really just tempted to lay there on the table until it subsides. "Oh man. You're so much funnier than last..." Errrrr. "Than the last person I talked to." Who did they talk to last? They do not know. Someone. Oh well. Their memory is besmirched now.

Once the laughter has subsided again, he takes a very cautious sip in case Blackbeard decides to like...say something funny enough to make him choke again. "So do you often make it your job to like make such funny jokes that you endanger the lives of those around you or am I just special?"

"If I was trying to kill you, you'd be fucking dead, mate." he mutters into his glass, giving Klaus a side-eye.

While he won't deny he has a good sense of humor, he's not certain he deserves such high regard in this case. Is this some kinda fanboy situation? Is he being hit on? Ed's not sure that he's ready for a rebound... whatever. He shakes his head.

"Don't know, man. Most people close enough to smell me end up dead, so I guess take your pick."

"You know what? I believe that." But he shrugs. "It wouldn't be the first time I'd died, though. Not even the first 56 times....and I've died a lot more times since then." Not on this ship, though. But his tone is non-chalant. Maybe a little bored. "My dad killed me at least a couple of those times. But you know dads..." A beat. "Or maybe not. I don't know your life."

They shrug slightly. It's not EXACTLY flirting, but then it's not...not flirting. Mostly just Klaus being easily amused. "I'm going to assume I'm special, then. Cause I'm still alive." Juuuuuust gonna drink some more while they think about that knowledge. "It works for me cause I like being special." A beat. "Probably because of all the childhood trauma..." That sounds accurate anyway. "At least I assume that explains a lot about me as a person."

Ed starts to respond, at least his mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and he just deadass watches Klaus traumadump on him with bewilderment. How is this easy for some people?

At the dads comment, Ed makes a face like he very much knows, but he doesn't say a word. He drinks down his ale instead, and reaches up to flag for two more-- hell, four more. Klaus is gonna need to catch up at some point.

"Probably for the best I don't touch that one." he groans as he trades in his empty glasses for the new ones, "We'll skip my backstory for today. Mystery is sexier, anyway."

When your trauma is like forever it apparently is just a thing. Or maybe it’s just Klaus. He doesn’t know.

“You know, you’re right. Mystery probably is sexier.” A sigh. “I’m just used to almost never thinking before I speak.” Also probably the trauma, but who can say? “But you’ve also got the whole leather daddy thing going for you and an air of danger, so it’s just all around hotness.” A beat. “I say in a friend way because my boyfriend is not into sharing and he’s a Demon King.” Which clearly means otherwise is dangerous? “And I’m trying not to be a fuck up for a change.”

A beat. “Sorry. I haven’t ever been good at judging how much is too much when it comes to talking about things.” But well, if there’s more drinks coming, they will just finish this one. That’s fine. “Do I assume two of these are for me or do I need to also order four to keep up?”

"A what?" he side-eyes. Sounds made up. Ed shakes his head, maybe he doesn't want to know.

"No shit." he says in reply to the talking thing. "You could probably cut it in half and it'd still be too much."

Whether or not that was advice isn't really clear, but he does wave off the question about the drinks and shove two of them down the bar for Klaus to add to his lineup.

"Like...well, the leather, probably a top. Almost certainly a top. Just the whole vibe." He gestures to Blackbeard's look. "It's just a hot vibe. That's all. Don't think about it too much."

There's a laugh at that. It's not actually an insult if it's true. "Yeah. I probably could, but I also probably won't. Full disclosure. Better to not get your hopes up now and then disappoint you later, right?" So that's not a problem they've ever had with anyone.

But they happily take the beers and do not order four more. Which is probably for the best. "So you're a pirate. What's that like? Gotta be exciting most of the time, right?"

"I know what the fuck you meant--" he shakes his head, "I meant the demon thing-- you know what? Never mind. I don't care."

He'll drink, instead. Klaus talks enough for both of them.

"Most people don't choose this lifestyle, you know." he mutters into his drink. "It gets old. Like anything, I reckon."

"Ooohhhh." Klaus laughs at himself. "My bad. But yeah. He's...a demon king. It's a long story." One he can't reliably tell, but Nobunaga also might actually get stabbed. Even Stede wanted to stab him. Poor guy. Just trying to get information and being a lunatic. What a cutie.

Klaus follows suit with the drinking since that seems to be the mood. "I mean...yeah. I guess that's fair. Didn't St-" He coughs, lifting up his glass a little more. "Did you choose it?" Yes. That is exactly what they meant to ask. Yes. Not about Stede. Definitely not that one. "I stole shit, but only on land and usually from my dad or other people close to me. Made for bad relationships, but...what are you gonna do?"

Demons could be a literal thing in this world, he supposes. He's been called one himself many times, but considering they're being served alcohol by ghosts, Ed doesn't really need to know if it's literal or not.

Ed doesn't answer at first. Did he choose it? He supposes, yes, in a way. You choose between being a pirate or dying by one's hands, so he guesses he did. But that's such an incredibly long story... one he is not thrilled to get into with a complete fucking stranger.

"Change the fucking subject, man." he mutters, "If I wanted a fucking therapist or to be yours I'd have asked for one or offered." All the bits about past fucking trauma and shitty dads? Fuck off.

Klaus holds up their hands. “Sorry, geez.” Maybe more like Five. “I wasn’t trying to do that.” But what the fuck do they even have to talk about? Maybe music? Does he even like music? Probably doesn’t even know about karaoke.

“Do you like music?” That could possibly be a better conversation? “Or like whatever?” A beat. “Oh! There’s a knife club on board! That might be more your speed.”

"Everyone likes music." he replies, making a face. Right? Even famous curmudgeonly Izzy Hands likes music. He and Edward even used to play it together, when they were younger men.

"The fuck does a knife club even do?" he asks, wincing as if trying to imagine it. Is it a glorified show-and-tell? Do they all perform in a talent show and do knife tricks? Do they just sit in a circle and talk about how much they like knives and jerk each other off? Sounds stupid. Maybe. Probably. Not like he'd be into that kind of thing or anything. Stop looking at him like that.

“Oh. Cool. I’m sure you’ve never done karaoke, but I promise you’ll love it. They have to have songs you know on there maybe. There’s Disney songs of all things! If not, I’ll teach you songs.” Sure, he is about to know way too many Destiny’s Child songs and probably every 90s pop or R&B song Klaus has in their repertoire, but that’s fine, right? Who doesn’t love 90s pop music?

I dunno, buddy, sounds like you’re totally into that. “I think they just fight each other with knives for fun. I dunno. I’ve never been. I can’t fight with a knife to save myself.”

Ed doesn't know what Klaus is talking about or like... what a Disney is, but he does like singing sometimes. But he doesn't want to look too eager, here. He's supposed to be tough and cool.

"Well that's fuckin stupid." he mutters, "All you do is pick it up and stab."

He pulls his knife from it's holster to demonstrate, stabbing forward in the ghost bartenders' direction. He side-eyes Klaus then, hesitation clear on his face. The last time he offered to teach someone something it spiraled into an exciting but fleeting romance and ended with him being the most hurt he's ever been in his entire life...

Okay, well, he's got to make some use of his time here, and Klaus already set a boundary on romance, so, what's he got to lose?

"Could teach you how to use one well, if you were serious about the song thing."

At first Klaus thinks that's in response to the music, but then they quickly realize that's in response to not knowing how to use a knife. So all the defensive hackles settle back down and he looks over. "Knives were more Diego's thing. I was just ghosts and dying over and over." There's a shrug at that as he waves it off. Totally not important. "Like, sure I killed a guy with my hands once, but that was also an accident." Right right. Don't overshare. Uhhhh....something different. Right. Knives.

They look over, watching the stab and glad that it's not them getting stabbed. The ghosts are whatever. They kind of ruined so much before. So he's kind of aware of the hesitation, but he's gonna act like he's not. That seems like the correct move here.

"Oh. Really?" They smile. "Yeah. Totally, buddy. Would totally be down to learn knives well. I live for the look on Diego's face if he ever shows up and I can actually fight with knives for a change. And of course I'm serious about the songs. I never joke about karaoke."

Edited 2022-11-22 00:21 (UTC)

"I don't know who the fuck that is." he replies, stabbing the knife tip into the bartop. "Can you move?" he asks, "Like, are you quick? Or if someone's stabbing at you do you just fuckin take it?"

Ed needs to know how pathetic Klaus is talking here, because even Stede could wave a fucking sword around. But if Klaus has absolutely no moves, Ed has his work cut out for him.

"My brother," he says quickly as an explanation. Which then leads him to wondering if he needs to explain exactly about superheroes and training. "Yeah. I trained to fight bad guys as a kid. We were like teenage crime fighters." But with powers. "I remember some of it. Most of it's instinctual more than purposeful these days, but..." Are they gonna have to be more sober for this? Well, at least not high. Maybe less drunk than usual.

"And I can still remember all the ballroom dancing our dad made us learn." Does that count as being able to move? "And I've had to run from the authorities a lot as an adult."

"I get it." he scoffs, giving Klaus a sidelong smirk. "You'll be fine."

Ed leaves his dagger stuck in the bar to gulp down more beer. Absolutely not gonna be sober for any of this. He'll smoke whatever you've got, too... actually...

A few beers in him, be feels a bit less on edge and a little more himself. It helps to have company that seemingly doesn't expect him to Captain them about and isn't, well, you know, Izzy. A little bit of the old Ed can slip in, here and there. He reaches inside his jacket and empties the contents of his inner pocket. There's a pipe, a small portable snuff box and a smaller box of matches, which he starts to fumble with on the bartop, stuffing the pipe as he talks.

"Most of fighting is about avoiding getting hit. Surprise someone or tire them out first, then strike. You probably know this shit but... whatever, add a knife. Look for weak points. Get creative. Half the time if you scare a guy bad enough they go down easy. And if you have to take a hit," he stops, only to put the pipe in his mouth and light it, taking a different kind of hit, then speaking again with the strain of some with smoke in their lungs, "know where to take it."

He exhales, taking a deep breath. Fuck, he needed that.

And he's chill again. Klaus smiles a little, resisting the urge to feel good about himself over it. Blackbeard seems to go pretty hot and cold, so it's probably just a thing. But if there's more drinking, Klaus will just...uh...keep up. "I have skills," they say sagely, knowing full well that if anyone complimented them, they would die on the spot. Probably best not to reveal that as a weakness when you might be knife fighting someone.

Klaus pauses. "Not to be annoying, but probably less likely to get in trouble with Friday if she catches you smoking in the casino or Tauva," he says. "She might not have a face, but she's still spookily able to see things."

But yes. That's also something he's heard his dad say constantly. Usually with a heaping pile of disappointment in their direction. "Know where to take it?" Klaus considers that. "Is there like a better place to get stabbed?" Diego would probably know this.

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i don't know what i just wrote or why

fair. me too sometimes

im crying

asjkfnasdf. i can't

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