Entry tags:
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.
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[Both 'juice' and 'box' mean something different in 1927 and put together like that is meaningless so he's extra confused.]
I meant with being all, [Gesturing] you jaundiced or something? That better not be contagious.
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He blinks at the gesture, then at himself, processing for a few seconds then pursing his lips. If he were more like some people he knew, he might have had something more scathing in response.]
Yellow's a bad thing here? That's news to me.
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[Though he did just meet a faceless woman so maybe what he thinks is natural really isn't.]
You gonna give me some safety spiel too? Part of the whole attraction?
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Nah man, I just got here. I wanted to go find food but they made it so your legs don't work right.
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Eh? Your legs look fine ta me? [The only part that actually looks normal to Angelo honestly.] I'm sure there's gotta be food, always a galley on a ship - if not fer us than the sailors.
[Not that he's seen any.]
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[So he'd be trying to set a foot toward a side hall that might actually lead toward said galley. Because he wants junk food, dammit.]
So what, you been here long?
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[He was busy loudly shouting and gesturing at anyone he perceived to be 'in charge around here'. At least he already knows most of the safety surrounding boats from the voyage to America.]
Don't got a watch but about an hour give or take a few. Let's go see where the chow hall is, probably down a level's my thinking. And near the hull, kichens gotta vent out somewhere.
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[He'd by and large missed everything but those key points as he tried to walk other places and found himself being mysteriously steered back onto the path that they'd wanted him on.
At least this guy seems about as straightforward as anyone else around here. More so than the...tour guide? The faceless lady, at any rate.]
I want burritos.
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[He rubs his leather gloved hands together and looks for a door to get them off the deck and towards the lower floors where he assumes the kitchens are. He's gonna be shocked to find out there's not just a dining room, but entire restaurants.]
What's a burrito? I just want anything, could eat a horse right now. Been locked up in a warehouse for a few days, glad I didn't wake up here smellin' like that though.
[For everyone's sake.]
Were my brothers here they'd be tellin' me to take it easy and I'd be tellin' them to shove it.
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Burrito's like...a bunch of good small food put in a tortilla to hold it all together? Microwave it and it's good for you.
[Things that probably only make sense to him, he realizes, but how do you explain burritos without having one available to show? Now he definitely needs a multi-burrito pack to split.]
Yeah? Last I knew I was trying to get back to my house. Got everything all packed up, even my cat.
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[ Because while burritos haven't made it to his version of 1927 Chicago, egg rolls have.]
I'm looking at this like the wrong kinda rescue. Good in the short term but rotten long term. Like being pulled outta burning building by the chief of police.
Ain't gonna go back to tha Donovan's warehouse, but like hell am I sticking around this joint.
[ None of the ship signage is telling him about kitchens, but "Dining Room" seems promising. ]
Aight, need an elevator and I think we're in business.
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[He doesn't know what an egg roll is, unfortunately. If it's anything like a burrito it'll be right up his alley though.
He's nodding as Angelo talks because yeah, this is definitely not the most ideal of circumstances. Maybe he didn't actually make it out of the Hylemxylem. Maybe he didn't make it to the Afterlife. Or this is just another part of the Afterlife and he hasn't found the right crystal home yet.]
If we find a beach, I'm going home. Still wanna get food though.
[So he'd join in on the search for an elevator, and regard the signage with a soft frown and furrowed brow. He can read everything here. He hasn't actually picked up that that's weird yet.]
There's stairs.
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Easiest ways probably to wait for this bucket to make port and then make ourselves scarce. It's a ways to jump over tha side, but eh, so longs you hit the water should be fine.
[Or he'll be fine anyway, the more he looks at Wayne the more he kind of looks like he's covered in ... clay? He's just gonna ignore that for now because this seems like someone who isn't gonna attack him, which right now makes him an ally.]
Ehn. Good enough I guess. [He rubs his ribs through his jacket.] Might as well get started walking this whole nonsense off. Pretty sure I heard something snap last night.
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He regards Angelo and the way he moves, especially when it comes to the idea that something had snapped. He'd been hit hard enough a time or two that things had broken, or even broken off, so whatever had happened couldn't have felt good.
He can't get a proper read on the guy's health, Angelo isn't part of his crew, but he could try to help at least.]
Need help?
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[ There's a slight hesitation at the stairs because that's sure not gonna feel good, but eh, he's gonna do it anyway. You do what you gotta to survive.]
Nah. It's nothing.
[ The way he says it makes it clear he'd say the same thing if he was missing a limb. But down the stairs they go. He's hungry enough to not care where, just needs some food. ]
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Food is a good idea though. He could go for something crunchy and potato-related.]
Yeah, no reason to stay if you're not gaining anything.
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[The dining room is on deck three and they're on seven and he is not gonna make it down four flights of stairs, fortunately there's some colorful signage for the restaurants on deck five so he makes a detour. Whatever the hell the 'Drunken Sailor' is sounds good enough to him.]
What about you? Gonna stay floating on this tub, or ditch it at the first port?
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Dunno yet. If I can figure out if there's proper transit I'll try though. Boats are less fun when you can't swim and can't leave even if you could swim.
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Swimmin' wouldn't get you anywhere right now anyways. Nothing out there far as I can tell. Might be ages before you even saw land, let alone be able ta swim to it.
[He breaks off pieces of fried fish with his fingers, eating it with his hands. ]
Could make off with one'a those life boats.
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It wouldn't be as much of a problem if I knew I could go eventually. Like, I don't wanna live here forever or something. Not what I wanted outta retirement.
[He strips off a glove to be able to eat without getting grease all over it, revealing a hand just as yellow as his face and no fingernails besides. He picks one of the thick fries up and pops it into his mouth, briefly doing that open-mouthed attempt to cool his bite upon finding it to be too hot.]
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You'd think, if this were an actual ship, there'd be some sorta schedule.. no that ain't the word. Itinerary. That's it. We'd have some kinda list of places this bucket makes port, hell we don't even know where it's goin.
[Oh fuck food is good. Alright, maybe this place isn't that bad. Right now. In the moment. He'll be all mad again later.]
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There probably is, I mean there's that one lady that was in charge of that drill, but there's no like...actual postings or anything anywhere and that's weird.
[Signs are important, that's how they're navigating here to begin with, so why wouldn't there at least be temporary postings for schedules and things? This isn't supposed to behave like a straight up living space.]
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Maybe we oughtta ask her where this boat is going. Asking where ta get off it probably ain't gonna work, seeing like this is some sorta captive situation. But they gotta be Shanghai-ing us for a reason yeah? Slave labor, meat, one of those probably.
Wonder if they're gonna sell us...
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So like, maybe they're trying to fatten us up with the good food and vacation-type stuff so we'll be good for slaughter?
[But then what's he doing here? There's not going to be a lot of meat on him for a good long while yet just because of his biology. That kind of kills that idea, but the labor...maybe?]
If they're using us for labor wouldn't it make more sense to train people rather than having them just hang out on a cruise? Unless they're trying to lure us into a false sense of security or something.