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

"Uh. Wha...no? No. But what the...okay, if this isn't. Wh..."

There are several more seconds of sputtering, here.

"Let's start from the top. I'm Erin Peters, do call me Erin, shipping out from New Avalon. If time's anywhere near similar, Misery Monroe'll be ruling in the name of Winter out there, but I work for Spring. My pleasure to meet you...?"

Erin offers a hand out to shake.

"B-bunny." Okay, that was a terrible attempt at reciprocation. Deep breath, let's try that again, as we take the offered hand.

"Alec Stebbins, called Bunny, of the Autumns of the Journeysend Freehold, under Lord William Book of Echoes, Minder of Grimmick Alley."

That's more useful. Maybe. Well, here so very little of it will be relevant.

"My pleasure, child of Fear." Erin offers Bunny a small but quite sincere bow, and then points her thumb down the corridors. "Basically no one uses the spa, if you care to follow me I'll see you straight. Consider yourself under the aegis of my hospitality while I do my best to provide your sea legs."

"Your hospitality is appreciated." He has a lazy way of speaking, so that comes out more like yer 'ospitality is 'preciated, but writing that out would outstay its welcome quicker than the rabbitboy himself would. He nods for her to lead on, eyes wide as he takes in the surroundings.

Erin has been in the spa thrice, once to destroy it, once with Cass for privacy, and once to have Valdis help dye her hair. Still, there's something comforting about the place. Maybe even in this strange lifeless world there is no denying the power of a space to simply relax in. She claims one of the salon chairs, which she immediately sits on by putting her ass on the headrest and her boots on the arm rest.

"So." Erin rests her elbows on her knees with a sigh. "Easy stuff first. No, you're not back beyond the Glass Gates. Yes, you've left Earth. This little pocket world is owned and operated by a gentleman we call the Captain, who has us here to power his works by our passions, and for various other purposes. That's the mixed bad news."

"Right. And that's different enough to count as being different, then?"

Sorry, he's not one of the best Autumns for the metaphysics of it all. It's not William Book himself the Captain caught in his web. He leans against a wall, facing her, most comfortable knowing no one is able to get at his back.

"It's different enough to be important. There's no Hedge here, the Wyrd doesn't rule this dominion, your Mask should be working, and most importantly, there are no chains aboard this ship. We don't labor for the Captain and he doesn't issue orders."

Offers, yes. Orders, no.

"But we're still captive and held by a someone what basically is using glamour from those he's took to do his thing. And there's still going to be thematic tropey things to the realm. Cruise ship, mm?"

See, similar at least gives him some hints, some cues on what's expected. Difference...the Wyrd not ruling, that's like flying without a parachute.

"Tell me the scary bits."

"Practical level? There's a piano roaming the halls that eats people and the only clothing store has developed native life that also eats people." Erin pauses, and then adds, conscientiously, "also my friend Siffleur the were-cougar lives there, and you'll never guess why I've brought him up in the context of that store having monsters that eat people in it."

Bunny lets out a strangled little laugh. "Were-cougar. Yes, that's...right, so if I need clothes I'm sending someone else to go shopping for me because whew, I know how to have been et way too well. Actually, there's the big question: death?"

"Good news, weird news. Good news is, you'll die if you're killed."

Is that an odd kind of good news? Yes, but Erin is far from the only Lost who couldn't during her captivity. It's a comfort her people can appreciate.

"Weird news is, you get back up at six AM the next day, usually in uh...considerable distress. I do not suggest or endorse recreational death."

"I'm used to the wake up after dying being et. That part's nothing new at all, by me."

He huffs out something less than a laugh. "Right. Alright. Fuck. I mean, you know what I mean, but fuck."

"Yeah, fuck's the appropriate response. We're also not done with the scary shit." She doesn't look happy about not being done with the scary shit. Like. Not even a little does she look happy about not being done. "I've caught reports that the mirrors might be haunted. No idea how or why, I can't fucking see them. Some of your Contracts may not be functional here; I lost most of a very broad set of pacts when I woke up, and boy lemme tell you, I'm fucking steamed about it still. And!" She raises a finger. "The bars work on American drinking ages."

"The bars aren't a problem. Can an obligate vegetarian find enough to eat here?" Because look, he's very not a meat-eater at all, in any way. Not being able to eat anything will kill just as much as being eaten, in its own way.

"I believe so? I'm friends with a voluntary vegetarian and she seems to get on fine, and the buffet has some..."

Erin trails off.

"...Look I'm pretty sure there's a gasoline dispenser at the buffet for one or more of the mechanical life forms, if it's got them covered it's got you covered."

"Mechanical life forms?" He repeats those words slowly, warily, giving her an incredulous look he isn't sure she can see.

"Yep. Beings of intelligence and moral agency who are neither human nor organic. This place is a chaotic mix of different worlds, and some of 'em have people who are machines. They're fun. I mean that genuinely, they're fun people."

"Different worlds." He shivers just hearing that, looks past her to the door and then back again. "What's that mean? How does that work?"

"Buddy, if you figure that you, you tell me. I've been at this awhile but I'm not a theoretical witch, I'm a practical one." She sighs, shrugs. "But I'm telling you now so you can prepare to keep an open mind, y'know?"

"My Freehold is allied with local mages, werewolves and even on speaking terms with more than one of the local hunters. Open mind, I can at least play by ear. Though I'm definitely going to be avoiding the werecougar because I know how that ends already."

"Eurgh, wizards." Erin shudders. "The wandslingers here ain't so bad but back at home? Miss me with that shit, I did my time."

Still. Speaks to a very vibrant and politically active Freehold. Maybe the transition here might not be so bad for Bunny.

"There's other Lost here, though you'll forgive me if I let them approach you instead of the reverse. They're private people; like yours, their Masks still work. I'm the only out Changeling aboard."

"What will you be telling them about me being here?" His ears perk slightly, as he tries to suss out Erin's exact motives and intentions. While the Spring Court back home wasn't as catty as some he'd heard of, they were the court opposed to Autumn, and the one he understood the least, in theory.

Erin shrugs. "New Lost, seems American, comes from an established Freehold, kinda skittish. Not much else. Your business is your business. That said, mind your manners with the walking storm. He ain't from a Freehold, so he's not necessarily familiar with the niceties."

Sorry Okie but it's a fair warning.

Erin debates something internally, then decides against it. "They're good folks. Actually got another spooky boy."

"Yes, American." He smiles slightly crookedly, thinking about the rest. Skittish? He's prey, he can hardly help that at this point. Spooky boy...well, he is Autumn, even if he's low-ranking.

"No one in charge among us?"

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