TEST DRIVE MEME #10

[sailmods]

a. that's where we both belong

[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.]

b. and there's plenty of that down by the sea

[it’s strange to think about, isn’t it? how all those new passengers, the ones grumbling or shouting their way through the forced muster drill, have absolutely no idea what happened just last month. no idea about the labyrinth. no concept of why anyone around them would be a bit more hesitant around shadows.

they’ll learn.

sometimes a shadow is darker than it’s supposed to be. very rarely does anything come of that; just a vague sense that someone is watching you, and little more. sometimes, though, the shadows move. sometimes they grab at your ankles as you walk. sometimes they give you a shove as you go down the stairs. sometimes they pull your hair, or pinch your arm.

sometimes you feel something sharp cut into your lower leg.

that’s not a shadow, though. that’s a fiddler crab. you see the crab, sometimes. the cut isn’t from its claws, which don’t look very intimating; it’s not a very large crab. the cut is from the large kitchen knife crudely taped onto its back. it’s probably fine. it's not chasing you. there isn't evil in its heart. probably.]

c. think I'll go back to the Keys

[one day, in the atrium, two pedestals suddenly appear. on each is a large button: one green, and one blue. pressing the blue button gives you a little treat, popping out of thin air next to you. pressing the green button sends a small electric shock through your body. weird, but, hey, pretty avoidable, right?

except, it seems to be spreading. to every other button on board.

in the elevator. on the soda machine. the arcade. your phone. the bell on Friday’s desk.]

Comments

[blacksludgeaffair]

"Iiit subsists... On adrenaline... Feeds on... Emotion..."

The puddle trembles, twists on itself, and suddenly in its place lies a black ribbon. A perfect ribbon, texture and all. And then again it melts into a puddle.

"It can be... Worn..."

[treadwater]

“Are you asking me to wear you around so you can feed on my emotions?” Look, she just wants to be sure they’re on the same page. “For how long? Is it permanent?”

[blacksludgeaffair]

"As long as... allowed..."

It almost looks excited, beneath her. It swims in a small loop, like a dog that can't contain its energy.

"It can make strong... in return..."

Wrap?

[crushed_pearls]

"We'll swap notes," Erin agrees. "And now I'm gonna leave you to turn into a cat-bug hybrid in peace. Keep well, and uh...if you see a large monster made of clothing, don't fight it, just run. Nobody's dick is that long, not even Long-Dick Johnson. And he had a long fuckin' dick."

Fun fact: Erin does not know the source of this reference, her friend(?) Forum Troll said it near her once and it just came back out. She gathers up her cup and cheesecake, and goes to leave.

[hate_gettin_older]

Man, she's just a kid.

(Edgar is not used to feeling that way about teenagers, and it's a little disorienting.)

He jogs easily after her. "So how do you bake cheese? Wouldn't it like melt everywhere?"

[treadwater]

"Not really! See, Brie has this outer rind which doesn't melt as much. So the inside gets gooey and warm, but it stays contained within the nice shell. You'll see--do you trust me?"

She isn't always just a kid, but right now, she gets to be. Doesn't Lucky 10,000 make everyone feel a little bit playful? Maybe it's in the sense of a wild-eyed wizard, but that isn't far from being a kid with a secret to share.

[treadwater]

"I like my hair, too. Though I also like yours. Would you let me play with it sometime? Maybe for a party or something?"

That's what normal teenage girls do, right?

[bubblegumheart]

"Good. And thank you. I've worn it like this for as long as I can remember."

Specifically, because her mother would never let her cut it. Something about girls not having short hair. "Yea, that might be fun. I've considered cutting a bit off but I'm not sure."

[treadwater]

"It'll revert to the length you had if you die, right? So there's really no reason not to; it'll grow back or come back eventually."

And a bob might look adorable on Chrissy.

[bubblegumheart]

"Really?" Somehow, that isn't even something she had considered. She's been here for nearly a year and she still hasn't managed to work up the nerve to actually change her hair for whatever reason.

"Maybe I will cut it, then!" It's not that she dislikes her hair the way it is so much as that she'd just like to do something different for once. "...Do you know how to cut hair?"

[treadwater]

"Not really, but I'd still be willing to try. If you're up for it?"

How hard can it be???

[bubblegumheart]

"My hair grows pretty fast, so even if it turns out weird, it won't be that big a deal."

Chrissy's not terribly worried about it. She's been getting it trimmed just enough to avoid split ends for her entire life. And now, there's nobody here to tell her no or give her the stink-eye about it.

[treadwater]

"Then...to the salon!"

After all, the Calgona spa has facilities for just this sort of work.

[bubblegumheart]

"Let's go!"

It's possible that she's a bit too excited about this. It's also possible that she might regret suggesting it at all. But like she'd told Undine, it won't take that long for her hair to grow back out, and there's no telling how she'll feel about it unless she goes through with it.

[lordoftheozarks]

"Oh, I see. That's very impressive." He has to fight the urge to mention how knowing Max must be useful for that. Mustn't give away the lie.

"My kind are rather durable, as well. Our blood has healing properties. If applied to another's wounds, it will heal them instantly leaving nary a scratch."

[hate_gettin_older]

He grins. "Enough to come see, sure. You ever done this before?"

[treadwater]

"I'm already strong. I don't need to be made stronger. It's...not something I want, to have to get to be stronger."

There's a lot of complicated fucking emotions going on there, Venom. Sorry.

[treadwater]

"Yeah, I have. My mom showed me how, for one of the holidays."

As they reach the kitchen, she peeks to make sure no one else has dibs on the space and equipment. Somehow, it seems no one else is working in here, so she can claim a spot to get things going.

"Right, step one, wash your hands. I know there's no germs on this ship or whatever, but it's still a good habit to be in the practice of." And she'll do the same.

[treadwater]

And so they scurry off to the salon, where Undine gestures to one of the shampoo bowls. "Lemme wash your hair first, see what sort of texture we're dealing with."

It's nothing like hers or Ava's, after all.

I really took my thyme on this one

[blindwatchersees]

The scissors on Johnny's hip, of course, make Sheogorath think one thing- this man is already another god's plaything, lent an artifact for one reason or another. Well, Sheogorath is hardly one to stay in his lane.

"I suppose that explains a few things." Oh, what to do with the Captain? He's clearly a skillful summoner, not having pulled enough of Sheogorath's being onboard than can be reasonably managed. However, anyone that tries to make Sheogorath conform to their expectations is just asking for trouble; it just remains to be seen if this Captain actually does that, or if inviting the Madgod to the party was just a natural consequence of the cruise's design. After all, of the many emotions Sheogorath represents, many of them are "negative."

"Tell me more about these freed ghosts. Did you personally play a hand in setting them free, Mr...?" He deliberately refrains from calling Johnny "mortal." That can come later, once he's tired of the gentleman wizard guise. Though considering Johnny himself lives by facades, that might not be anytime soon. Is it even really a guise, actually?

[hate_gettin_older]

"Right," he says cheerfully, making for one of the sinks. "Learned that one from Max, ages ago. Clean hands."

Unlimited running water here, hot and cold; he's grown used to having it around, but it never fails to please him.

I will pepper you with quick responses, in turn.

[businessorlibation]

"Summer. Johnny Summer, of Gallery. And I did, indeed. I was not the only one, though. Many of us felt a sort of sympathy, when we heard what conditions were like from the ghosts' point of view. What it was, for them, to exist within a state of Nothing. Imprisonment is an undignified state in itself, but complete deprivation of all senses is a cruelty very few of us were interested in allowing, even for the sake of our comfort."

There's a hint of defensiveness, couched under the layers of clear, concise explanation there.

"I haven't gotten your name, either."

[treadwater]

There is a small glance around the room, as if to make sure he's not here, before her next words.

"The robot guy with the suit taught you to wash your hands?"

I clove through my queued responses pretty quickly today!

[blindwatchersees]

"Yes, no fate more terrible than being utterly, utterly bored," he responds, and he means it whole-heartedly.

He notes the defensiveness.

"As for myself... you may call me Lord Sheogorath."

Wrap!

[blindwatchersees]

He's more giant butterfly than cat now, the patterns on his wings shifting into different facial expressions.

"Noted! I'll have to get my vests somewhere else then!" He takes a long, loooong sip of tea, wings fluttering.

"Do take care, Peters. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other."