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

"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.

"Only if you hurt me. Like, in the bad way." Yes, we do have to specify that.

"I... actually haven't been able to find him. People say he probably isn't here and I'm on my own. So. I guess even if you did, you'd be safe. He wouldn't be able to come get you." That's a distressing thought. Too distressing. He wants to fuck and forget all about how helpless he feels here.

"My master doesn't care who I sleep with, for the record."

"I'm not trying to hurt you. Just cuz some dude starved me for months where the only thing any of us could eat was people doesn't mean I'm gonna just start munching on folks. It's not... like that." What it is, is worse. And he doesn't really wanna get into that and lose his chance to see if this dude lives up to his name.

Eyebrow arch, "Is that an offer?"

Because he is ready to go if Max is, like 0 to 100 full throttle with this Deputy.

His lips turn down into a worried frown upon hearing that. "Shit man... that's fucked up. I'm sorry. I won't uh... bring it up again." We don't talk about trauma, no, no, no~

He's much happier with the other line of conversation by far.

"What, you want me to put it on a platter for you? Yeah, it's an offer. Probably has to be your cabin, though, because my roommate is... a prude."

"That sucks dude. My roommate is... probably not there so.." He pulls out his phone and shoots off a quick message to John. Who he is definitely not close enough with to have had this hos before bros convo with. Oh well.

"Who'd you get stuck with? Mine's uh.. probably not a total prude but I dunno. We haven't really talked about it. Whatever, come on, I have a bet with myself to win."

Can he cram a guy named Maximum's entire dick down his throat? He's gonna find out.

Apologies in advance to John if this becomes a recurring thing.

"I wouldn't say stuck with. SecUnit is really nice. It's just not... into that stuff. Won't even watch kissing scenes in movies."

Max is following at Pratt's heel like an excited puppy. His namesake is especially excited already. Pratt will have his work cut out for him.

"Wait really? That's pretty funny actually. I suggested once trading bodies so it could be human for a bit and it got super freaked out that it would have junk then. Like really weird about that."

Pratt will lead them back to his cabin where his roommate is currently his favorite person for clearing out no questions asked (he'll make it up to him later somehow). Also having someone follow him is kinda a nice change since he's normally the one following Lucius around. Or Izzy.

As soon as he gets Max in his room he's turning to press him up against the wall, hands on his sides. "Damn, you weren't kidding about the Maximum thing huh.."

Yeah his pants are not hiding that.

"Ugh. I guess it's a good thing I'm usually up and dressed before it is, I don't know if it could handle seeing what I've got to offer." Wink wonk.

And, yeah, he has no illusions about how much his excitement is showing. He also is in short supply of shame. A hitching breath stutters out of him as he's pushed against the wall. Heat rises fast in his chest, chasing away any doubts or fears.

"Still think you can take it?"

Pratt's not about to argue that the size probably isn't the issue for SecUnit but more the existence of genetalia to begin with. He doesn't care that much about whatever the hell it's got going on in regards to being a prude.

He has a bet to win.

He hopes.

"Yeah I got this." He certainly sounds sure of himself, and that sort of cocksure confidence has served him well in the past, no reason to change now. Palming Max through his pants to get a sneak peak of the main event, he's about eighty percent sure he does in fact have this. Maybe seventy-five percent.

What he doesn't have though, is patience, going for his waistband to unbutton his pants so he can actually feel him for real. Nothing like a little skin on skin to see what he's in for.

"Mmmm," he moans as Pratt cups him. "You do seem to have a handle on the situation." Ah, welcome to the potential downside of fucking Maximum, he's full of terrible puns and he will not stop. Dick is worth it, though.

Max helpfully reaches down to undo his belt while Pratt goes for the fasten on his trousers. Who needs patience? He's already straining at the front of his black boxer briefs, just begging to be let out--all eight and a half inches of him.

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cw: sex stuff just out here on the TDM with no shame

cw: in front of god and everyone