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TEST DRIVE MEME #9
1. tidal waves out on the sea
[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. I don't know where I'm-a gonna go
[something new has been set up at Friday’s desk. there’s a sign, but it’s not advertising the next excursion, or anything familiar like that. instead, it says, in big, bold letters, SUGGESTIONS AND COMPLAINTS, with a large downward-facing arrow below it, pointing at what looks to be an empty tissue box with the word “COMPLAINTS” hastily etched onto it. there is a pile of small slips of paper and some pens next to it, and Friday cheerfully informs you that you can submit anything you like, no consequences! and it’s weird that she has to specify, but, also, she really does, doesn’t she?
and there aren’t any consequences! the Captain doesn’t come out of nowhere and dome you instantly for the slight. Friday doesn’t give you the cold shoulder or a rude remark. now, an unidentifiable voice does start reciting your complaint or suggestion, with your name attached, over the loudspeaker at full volume every 20 minutes or so. but, that’s debatable as a consequence. probably. maybe. not actually.]
3. pretty soon we learn to fly
[this was one of the suggestions. apparently. that’s what Friday will say if anyone asks her about it. and they probably will. because surely there has to be some sort of reason why the floor in windjammer is, currently, lava.
like. actual molten magma-type lava, flowing in sluggish rivers around the tables and booths, the sections of the buffet. so, maybe you decide to go eat at one of the many other fine dining establishments aboard today, or at least until the floor decides to stop being lava. or, maybe you decide that those dinosaur chicken nuggets are worth the risk of life and limb. and thus, you climb, clamber, jump, leap - a perilous and terrifying journey, knowing you are only one false step away from an agonizing death.
until you fall in. and then you realize that, no, this is not actually lava at all, for all it looks exactly like it. it’s actually barely room temperature, and strangely watery. you taste sweetened tomato paste. it’s not death, but maybe that would have been a little bit better.
Angelo Genna | Empire of Sin
[He wakes up, thinking he's still bleeding out on the concrete floor of the Donovan's warehouse, and getting up in a hurry sends him falling out of bed and onto the carpeted floor. Well, that changes things, he's ... well he's still bleeding out, but he's not in a warehouse that's for sure. A quick check proves that he still has all his clothes, all his knives, and more importantly all his vital organs.
Retrieving his hat from where it fell, he gets up, scoffing at the paper and shoving it in a pocket. Life jacket? Sure why the fuck not, he grabs that in one hand, and heads on out. He doesn't even realize he's being magically compelled because the paper says they're having a meeting on Deck 1 so that's where he's headed. Oh they're gonna have a hell of a meeting.
He grumbles the whole way there swatting Friday away, and snapping the lei in half if it'll let him. ]
Alright already! Enough of that. Who the fuck is in charge, and where the goddamn hell are they?
2. The streets are his, they just don't know it yet (Promenade)
[Apparently he can't barge into the Captain's office and demand a sit down meeting so guess it's time to explore.]
This place must cost a quiet fortune to run. Who installed all these lights?
[This is so many lights, and electric ones too? Damn. Pricey. He doesn't know what a Tommy Bahama is, or sushi, or well... most of these stores. So he's more pacing up and down the main promenade glaring into each of them as if that'll somehow satisfy his curiosity.]
Where's I gotta go to get some chow?
[As if he's not standing in front of three stores serving food.]
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You're supposing that this prison ship's got anything in the way of a functioning economy.
[She shakes her head, and then looks him up and down. Unfamiliar face. He has to be new. Well, he's taking this calmly. When she'd first arrived, she'd demanded to see the captain - or rather, the chart room and then the captain - and been denied on both counts.]
What are you after? A proper sit-down meal, or something more informal? [She assumes he just doesn't care for sushi. There's always the buffet.]
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[He's eyeing that uniform, it's close, but not quite the same as what he's used to. Not enough buckles and pointless pockets. Still, she's close enough he could take her down if he needed to, except they are kind of in the middle of a .... street? An inside street? Yeah sure, that seems right.]
Wait a minute. Prison? This aint'.. this don't look like no prison I've been in. [He's still got all his clothes and all his weapons, so that don't make much sense. ] Informal, been bleedin' out after having my ribs stomped in for however long that - I don't got a watch. I just want something in me before I have to crack any skulls here.
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Let me guess, you're thinking this is far too luxurious for a prison, and they're letting us walk around armed? Right on both counts. I'll explain, but you need a decent meal first. Possibly a trip to the infirmary.
[Her gaze lingers on his torso for a moment in concern, but if his ribs were giving him too much trouble, she reasons, he wouldn't be asking for food first.] I'll take you to the buffet.
[Ari Tayrey leads the way. It's Windjammer, up one flight of stairs, a large and varied all-you-can-eat buffet. It hasn't escaped her notice that he's implied he's been in multiple prisons before, but she's not passing any immediate judgement, not beyond her usual cautions.]
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[ An enforcer with nothing to enforce. What's he gonna do, take up knitting?]
Real classy sorta place, prison or no. Swanky as all hell.
[ But he'll follow her to the buffet because he really does need to eat even if he isn't hungry at all. He rubs a gloved hand on his side after they walk for a while because he is tore up under the many pieces of clothing he's wearing. Least they didn't break his fingers this time.]
Angelo Genna. Tradelines huh? You security for one of them caravan merchants?
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[She carries on talking as they walk.] Tradeliner ships sometimes run escort duty for civilian merchants, sure. We also do a lot of profitable business of our own. Plus keeping peace, getting supplies to the frontier colonies, keeping the trade routes open.
[Ari notices the hand going to his side, but he doesn't seem the type to appreciate fussing, and she's not carrying any wound patches on her anyway. Still. She'll keep a close eye on him, get him to the infirmary if there's a sign he's worsening.]
The food's not bad. Fresh, at least, and plenty of it. [That wasn't the case after you'd been out in the black of space for a month.] Here, take whatever you want. [She'll take a plate of her own, encouragement and a sign that it's safe, but she limits herself to fruit and a little bread.]
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[ He'd burst into laughter at her guesses if it wouldn't end in him collapsed on the floor holding his torso.]
Nah nah. Let's say I'm a solver of problems. My family got a business and there's mooks out there who keep trying to suds it up and I make sure that don't happen, capiche?
Frontier colonies? Damn, some real adventurous spirit you got on ya. [ He thinks she means the far frontier of San Francisco.]
You sure this is a prison? Cuz none of that looks anything like the slop we was served. Probably didn't even get dropped on the floor or nothing.
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[By this time, even Arilanna Tayrey, born a wealthy daughter of the Company, is picking up on what he actually means, but discretion wins out and she's too diplomatic to make a critical comment. She's heard a lot worse, so she just gives him a knowing look, and moves on.]
That's me, typical adventurous spacer, flying right down to the end of the Keturah line. Or I would be there right now, taking a tidy profit-share, if I hadn't wound up here instead.
[Maybe not San Francisco, then - but his last question gives her pause.] If we can't leave, it's a prison, yes? Whether there's fancy food or not. We don't have our freedom. You spent a lot of your time in prisons? [He wouldn't mention it if he didn't want her to ask.]
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Want you should tell 'em that. They don't know what they got. Always complaining like I ain't the only one working while goddamn Gabriel goes skirt chasing all damn day.
[ He grumbles some curses that don't really translate from Italian as he ladles some soup into a bowl. Something warm, tasty, and he probably won't throw it up later and give his ribs more reasons to ache.]
Missing out on a payday seems like you should be a lot more pissed about getting off this ship. I'd be digging my way out with a piece of broken bottle if I had some dough waiting for me.
[He sits down at one of the tables and does visibly think about that question before he answers. ] Guess it is, but what're we all in fer? What's the charge? The sentence? Why imprison people in the lap of luxury when it's a whole lot easier to stick em somewhere and throw away the key. Like that poor sap they tossed in the hole and let starve cuz they forgot he was in there. [Enough talking, soup time.] Not more than I needed to. Ain't no guard that can't be killed or bought.
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You're gonna want that at some point. The leis are protective, something magic, or so we been told.
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[ He looks at the Lei which is now a straight line rather than a loop, but pauses before he rips the bone thing off it.]
What like some Houdini mumbo jumbo? That didn't work out for him none.
[ Still... ]
Protection from what?
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[Bash crosses his arms, looking Angelo up and down slowly.]
The leis are the sort of thing we're supposed to grab if it looks like the world is ending. Which...is more likely here than most worlds. Limited scope, pocket sort of deal.
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[ Boy he's in for a trip here. ]
Like Goldie's fortune tellers? Put enough of 'em down already. I ain't the superstitious type.
[ He rips that disc right off and gives it a coin flip, chuckling in satisfaction. The rest of it gets stuffed in a pocket. He better hope whatever protection its supposed to have still works if he has all the pieces separately...]
A pocket scope what now?
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[Because Bash himself is also magic, though divine rather than arcane. He steps to one side, standing in the shade cast by a nearby wall, and then vanishes, slipping through the shadow instantly to another one, a good ten feet away.]
Magic. The impossible becoming real.
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Another knife goes sailing towards where Bash is now as soon as he hears him, but he didn't aim so it probably goes wide. Down to 3 more in his sleeve, but 98 more on his person. He can do this all day.]
Whaddya think you're doing?!
[As if the answer isn't: magic.]
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More simply: magic. Cute knives, by the way.
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And for another, all this is proving is goddamn Darragh dosed me with something. Probably should be lucky I didn't wake up in a tub of ice.
[ No one wants this bootleggers internal organs. He should want new organs. ]
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2 I'm screaming I love this game so much!!!
If you want sushi, hibachi, or sake: Mikabo. Windjammer is all you can eat. Don't bother challenging any of the gods to eating the most, it's worse than the lighting. And there's a banquet... ehhh somewhere. [Helpful.] Oh and one of the bars has fish and chips and soft pretzels.
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Pretzels huh? [Which might be the only word in all of that he understood.] Wait hold up, bars plural? Like more n' one?
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[Anyway.]
[Oh, wrestle a bear?] If only. I want to fight a polar bear. [He makes a pose, gauntlet to flexed arm. Don't get him started.]
Yeah, there's... 5? Been a hell of a ride the last two weeks with my partner trying to go sober. John's has Billy Joel constantly, Tauva is fake fancy, but allows cigars -- not everywhere on board allows fire or smoking, Hurikane is best for cocktails and has techno music, Chatterbox has karaoke, Topy is the funniest, with drinks from impossible eras, Drunken Sailor is the most European. [British pub. Whatever.] Oh, and there's the pool bar. So that's 7, not 5. My bad. I might even be forgetting one or two.
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[Because the important part is type of bear, and not that he's fighting a bear at all.]
Damn, this place really is hittin' on all eight ain't it? [He's just gonna be impressed even though he doesn't know what 80% of the words he said are.] Spill some on these drinks from impossible eras. What like, old timey shit? Mead?
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[The type is totally important!]
[And mead... Nobunaga searches every last corner of his brain to try to think of what that is... And he's got nothing.] Like sake from before it was called that, back when it was made with spit and insect shells. [SHRUGS like that's not even as disgusting as it gets.] The absinthe is an abomination though. Here, I'll take you so you can see for yourself, maybe I can find something that won't get me in trouble with my spouse.
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[He definitely thinks Nobunaga is talking about Pandas.]
I'm not drinking nothin' made of spit and bugs. But absinthe I'd give a go on. Can I get laudanum because I'm feelin' this beat down now. Didn't at first, but now that it's been a piece starting to stiffen up.
[He winces and rotates his arm. Not that his arm is the problem, it's his ribs.]
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Laudanum... Maybe? Ask the ghost bartender. Because I've never heard of it. I'm from Japan, 1582. I'm Nobunaga Oda. [A slight bow!]
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How are they even bears if they eat grass?
[ He squints at this Anime antagonist because he sure doesn't look like the other Japanese people he knows. But thats not the important part here.]
Angelo Genna. You telling me those numbers are supposed ta be a year? The current year? You're fucking with me. It's 1925.
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