sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

1. but times have changed for sailors these days

[you wake up.

it doesn't matter where you were before. going to bed? dying? opening the door to face a great evil? same result. you wake up in a soft bed with starched sheets in a cool, darkened room, sunlight peeking out from behind thick curtains. maybe you're alone; maybe you aren't. maybe you immediately notice the folded paper on the bedside table near your head. if you don't, you better fix that real quick: you won't be able to even open the door before you read it.

the note itself is written in a neat hand on white card stock; there is a stylized logo of a ship with the words SERENA ETERNA printed underneath. the note reads as follows:

Dear Passenger(s),

As your cruise director, it is my great honor to welcome you aboard the Serena Eterna, your destination for fun and adventure! We know you could have chosen any cruise line for your vacation, and we're very grateful you chose ours! On behalf of the Captain, I would like to assure each and every passenger that will we do whatever it takes to fulfill all your needs and desires during your journey with us.

At your earliest possible convenience, please attend the mandatory lifeboat drill by the end of the day. I'm sure everyone is very eager to get started on all the fun and sun, but safety always comes first! You can find your life jacket in your cabin's closet; carry it to your assigned muster station on deck one, where I will take you through the drill. If you can't find me in the crowd, just look for the gal with the winning smile!

See You Real Soon!

Sincerely,
Gal Friday

you walk to deck one. you have no other choice: every time you try to step in a direction some unseen being considers "not towards deck one," you find your legs no longer move, staying stock still, frozen. whether compelled quickly by curiosity, or delayed by pure stubbornness, the result is the same, and you are left milling around with other similarly curious or stubborn people.

you see someone in uniform near the front of the crowd. she seems to be a gal, but is missing the winning smile, along with most of her other features. she seems to see you, though, rushing to your side and placing a lei around your neck with great formality. a voice, cheery but artificial, sees to come from nowhere and everywhere.]

Welcome aboard! I'm so happy you could join us!

[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.

after the drill is completed, you are seemingly free to go. or, well, your legs work, now. and maybe that's as good as it's gonna get.]

2. tried to amend my carnivorous habit

[the space inside John's where the piano normally sits is mysteriously vacant today. as a matter of fact, the entire piano bar is silent, without so much as a muzak-inspired interpretation of Uptown Girl to hum along to.

the piano itself seems to have disappeared... for the most part. unlucky, unsuspecting passengers who enter the cabin hallway, step out onto the lower decks, or find themselves in one of the other narrow corridors of the ship, may find themselves suddenly facing down a silent, unmoving grand piano. it takes up too much space to squeeze by comfortably...

and then, the cover lifts, exposing what looks to be... teeth?

yeah. yeah, those are its teeth. and it's coming right for you.]

3. that American creation on which I feed

[it had been a difficult October for bahamanuel, the bahamanal. its territory had changed utterly, becoming alien and strange. new predators were encroaching on its hunting grounds. its position in the natural order is under threat. and so, nature finds a way.

the old timers know to be wary of large piles of clothes, but even they won’t think to look twice at the tiny lumps of garish kids’ swimsuits and sundresses - until they feel something latch onto their leg, and then several more things, and anywhere from ten to twenty balled up clothes piles try to take down their prey.

the young must learn how to hunt, after all.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh yeah, that's good wilderness too, but more flat than where I'm at. We have big mountains that get full of snow. But not the kind you wanna ski down unless we started logging out the trees or something." He's sure if the world hadn't ended some big time developer would eventually buy a mountain and try to make a ski lodge and the people of Hope County would have a whole different kind of war on their hands.

"I forget everything, because my brain is basically three week old guac from the back of the fridge at this point. So if I don't recognize you like, tomorrow, that's just cuz I suck." He shrugs, as if he's admitting he sometimes sets his keys down in weird places and not that he often has the actual memory of a goldfish. "Oh yeah, it happens. Clara was dead in her world too and then showed up here. Tho timing is a little weird, I was dead for about seventeen years before getting sucked into the pleasure cruise of the damned. And I only know it's been that long cuz a buddy of mine from back home is also here and let me tell you it is fucking weird that he's in his fifties now. Shit is bizarre."

Max makes a face at hearing Pratt say he sucks. His kneejerk response is to want to say "no, of course you don't suck!" but he clamps down on it, afraid he will make things even more awkward.

"That's..." a lot to take in. "Wow. You uh. You look pretty good all things considered?" Does he really? Well. For a dead guy of 17 years...maybe?

"Sorry I... don't really know what the right thing to say is. All the dead people I'm used to dealing with are the undead variety. They can't eat..." Whatever that is.

Edited 2022-12-19 15:31 (UTC)

He gives an eyebrow arch, "I look like shit, but thanks. At least I'm not decaying right?"

Right. He's pretty proud of himself. Sure he's emaciated and looks like a strong wind may end him, but he's still kind of just a dude. Go him.

"Oh like zombies and shit? I ... you know I don't think we have any of those here. Got ghosts. Vampires. Werewolves. People that can turn into cougars. But no zombies. Though there were some at the diner but they got stuck there." He finishes up his horrible potato nonsense and sets the bowl to the side, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Must suck to not be able to eat."

"Well..." He's going to just. Not make any further comment on how Pratt looks. Because he can't think of a counter point.

"No. Not zombies--hey, wait! There are vampires here? But that guy Yuuki said there weren't any now. He said they all disappeared."

"No clue who that is. But uh.. he might be right. Claudia is gone. And Ai--uh.." He has slipped up and almost mentioned Aiden so many times recently. What gives? Is he secretly back on the boat and staring at them right now? But he will quickly recover and abide by the bro-code of not telling peoples secrets, "The girl with the guitar is also gone. So maybe they did. That'd be a weird coincidence actually. Wonder if their blood dispenser thing got poisoned. That sucks, Claudia was kinda awesome."

"Blood dispenser?" Max is some mix of horrified and intrigued. Usually, he's the blood dispenser.

"Where? Is there one in here?" Is Max planning to stake it out and see if anyone comes to drink out of it? Maybe.

"Well they gotta eat something you know." Pratt shrugs. "It's by the coffee, like behind it, so you probably won't accidentally get a mug of blood instead of coffee unless you really fuck up."

Pratt doesn't think any of this is too weird yet, because hey, he just found out vampires are real about six months ago, so he's doing pretty well he thinks. "It's warm so it's not all gross and congealed. I asked Claudia once because the idea of drinking cold blood is somehow a billion times worse than warm."

"In my world, they don't have anything that cool. When he's not drinking straight from me, my master is usually having his cold out of the refrigerator. He's never complained about it but maybe he's just used to it by now. But... mm, yeah, they do all pretty universally say it tastes better warm and fresh." Speaking of totally normal things to say.

"That's cuz it's probably really metallic when its cold. Jacob back home would sometimes leave meat out in the snow and then like... eat it raw and that's the grossest shit ever. Though I guess it could have been worse he could have eaten it off a severed arm like a turkey leg instead of butchering people."

Just two dudes with totally normal things to talk about.

"Wait... your master? Dude..."

"Yeah. Guess that would make sense." As if literally anything about this conversation makes any sense?

"Wait... wait...butchering...people?" You answer his, he'll answer yours.

"No nono. Wait a sec. We'll get to the cannibal part in a bit but let's tackle the master thing here real quick. The fuck you say?"

Right because that's any weirder than the cannibal stuff.

"He IS a cannibal? You're friends with a cannibal?!" Yeah, no, Max is not just letting that drop like what the fuck dude.

"I'm his live-in butler. That's just the word we use. It's nothing." He lies, like a lying liar.

"Cannibal??"

"You're the butler for someone who drinks blood out of the fridge and you call him master? Hold up, you don't get to judge me for the cannibalism thing when you have a brita pitcher of blood in your fridge!"

He is not letting that one go.

"And I wasn't friends with a cannibal. I was second in command of a cult army ran by a cannibal." Wait.... "which sounds way worse! Never mind. Forget that part. I'm a vegetarian now anyway. That's beside the point. What the fuck dude?"

"It's not a Brita pitcher! You don't need to filter blood!" That, wait. That doesn't make it sound better at all, either.

"He's a vampire, he doesn't kill people. Obviously." He gestures down at himself, very much alive.

"You were in a cannibal cult?! You were his second?? Holy shit. How the fuck am I supposed to forget that part? Did you..." he's looking at the finger wound now. Remembering that disturbing little comment from before.

"Did you eat your own finger?" Vegetarian his ASS!

"How is that obvious?! Vampires absolutely kill people??? That's their whole thing! Claudia was super proud of how many she could get a night." Which is probably why they were friends because Pratt just accepted that.

"NOT BY CHOICE." His torn up, gravely voice can't really yell, but he's sure trying. And that sort of covers all the questions so he's not going to specify if he means the cult or the finger.

"It is not their 'whole thing!' I've been serving my Lord for seven fucking years and I'm still alive so obviously it's not their thing. Jesus? That's what we have the Accords for. To keep vampires from killing humans and vice versa! My master would destroy any vampire he caught killing humans, let alone that many in one night. He'd never allow that in his territory." The note of pride in Max's voice can't be missed. Yes, he is a loyal human to his master.

"Oh my GOD! I should have realized you were a psychopath the moment I saw you eating that mash potato war crime in a bowl. Is that guy Jacob here too? Is he taking pieces off of you?!?"

"You're like a vampire thrall?" He eyes him for a second. "Is that sexy? That sounds kinda hot."

Oh no wait he's mad again.

"What do you mean mashed potato war crime?! This shit is delicious. Excuse me for enjoying good fucking food just because you're homesick for o-positive smoothies." Yes, he is going to defend the honor of mashed potatoes right now. And he'd keep doing so if Max hadn't asked if Jacob is here causing the already sickly looking Pratt to go absolutely pale.

"He... no. He's not here. He better fucking never show up. I'd..." probably run away despite the insistence that he'd skin Jacob alive. Or more accurately stand there in silence and then follow him around, terrified. He might know a thing or two about thralls himself. "No, this was a hierarchy thing, with one of the pirates."

He looks down at his hand, rubbing the bandage with his opposite thumb.

"Not a thrall. I'm not under mind control or any shit." Brainwashing doesn't count, right?

"And, yeah. It is hot, thanks. I like getting bitten. Are you going to chew me out about it too like that Yuuki kid did?" He's a slut for the bite, fight him.

"But it's not the same! I'm not losing body parts! And I'm AB-negative, by the way, that makes me a rare fucking vintage." One percent of the population has this blood type, and he's a goddamn snacc, thank you very much.

"Good. I'm glad there aren't two creepy flesh eating cult guys on this ship but... did you say pirates?" What the fuck??

Brainwashing doesn't count and the drugged, tortured, and clasically conditioned guy is deff the one to make that call.

"I let Blackbeard cut off my finger hoping it would be hot so why would I chew you out over getting bitten?" Pause. Pause. Brain handing over the thinking reins to the other head for a bit, "Unless you want me to?"

Glad they both agree on that. (Insert handshake emoji here.)

"Blackbeard?" Holy shit?? "On purpose?" Max should not really be judging. He still is though.

And yet.

"Depends? Are you doing to try and bite my entire dick off?"

"Yeah we got in a fight cuz he's not my captain and uh, he didn't like that much." Who knew Blackbeard wouldn't take well to a guy being super thirsty for his second in command and not him? Oh well, live and learn.

"No, but I can definitely fit your entire dick in my mouth." That is a hell of a cocksure grin Pratt has. His throat is so completely trashed he could probably deepthroat a garden hose without gagging. Thanks torture? The one perk he has and he is going to use it dammit. "What, I'm not a vampire so I don't get biting privileges?"

"Isn't he supposed to be the baddest pirate that ever lived? That wasn't a great move, man." Pot. Kettle. Hi, nice to meet you.

"You wanna bet? My name isn't Maximum for no reason." No, it really is Maximum for that reason. Literally.

"You can bite, you're just not allowed to chew."

"That's why I thought it would be super hot!!" Annoyed because it wasn't, he's gonna have to ask Izzy for a redo.

Later. Because uh... okay then.

"Seriously?" Pointed and hungry look right at Max's crotch because Pratt is super subtle. "I'll take that bet. And I'm not gonna fucking eat you. Jesus, I'm not that psychotic."

He swallows hard as Pratt's hungry gaze aims right for his crotch. And... he can already feel himself starting to swell. Wonder if it will be noticeable? (Yes.)

"I really hope you're not or else I'm going to get in so much trouble."

Hot damn.

But those are the right set of words to get him to do some thinking with his brain meat instead of his other meat, "In trouble with who? Wait is a vampire gonna come after me or something?"

Because that would be new. ~~Or completely familiar~~. Though he's definitely taken a few steps closer to Max at this point.

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