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

Sand Dollars

[crushed_pearls]

"Ava what in Christ's homemade tits are you -"

Erin stops short mid joke. Her expression is shock, and awe, and then immediate anger and relief at the same time - "Bash you mother fucker!" She jumps the space between door and counter, wings beating furiously. "Matron fornicator! Thou defiler of wet nurses! Bon vivant of vodka aunts HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING BACK?"

[midnightroads]

"Now look here, you blind whore of Babylon! You fornicated matron! You Medusa-curled daughter of titans!" He lets out a warm chuckle, stepping out from behind the counter. "About fourteen hours or so. And no, Jeff's not here--just me. Sorry, someone decided the hippie/goth meta was too powerful and nerfed our asses."

[crushed_pearls]

"...I'm sorry to hear it, but who knows? Maybe we'll see him again. Then again, maybe shit calms down first." Erin reaches across the counter to clap Bash on the shoulder. "I'm sorry man, I really am. But also, and this is key, what in the demidivine fuck are you doing to this coffee?"

[midnightroads]

"Fucking it up to mark my territory. Doing lewd things with an espresso grind to let the Serena Eterna know I'm home." Bash laughs. "Want a cup? It might make you hear shrimp colors."

[crushed_pearls]

"This a good time to tell you that instead of seeing the hat man when you get fucked up you might get our new god of madness instead?"

second option.

[abhorrently]

The scent is out of place, and it's what draws her into the doorway of the place. Stronger and stronger, like someone wants to decipher the very essence of the drink, and for the sake of her own curiosity, Fever follows. No sounds of crashing or smashing, so someone isn't breaking the place up, which would be a bit of a shame.

The gentleman at the source of it all, unfamiliar, but he seems busy. Which means she's going to peer around the counter, no shame or hesitation.

[midnightroads]

"God of madness, hm? Captain like taking more divine types here?" Bash moves to the espresso machine, setting a cup under a nozzle before looking over his shoulder at Erin. Right, she has a sweet tooth. Time to make something that's not just strong, but hummingbird food.

[midnightroads]

"How do you take yours, sweetheart?" The question's addressed to her, clearly, between tweaking knobs, dials, hissing sounds coming from the steam wand. The man with the long curly hair gives her a direct, almost daring look.

[crushed_pearls]

"I don't think so," Erin muses. "He's...an odd one. Think less Dionysus, more Death from Discworld. He's always there where madness is, but he's not always there. Dig?"

[midnightroads]

"Almost...elemental? Like he embodies what madness is? That sounds like it'd be a pain in the fucking ass to exist as. But if he's happy, that's what matters, right?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Yeah, just figured you could do with a warning. We're all mad here." Erin quirks a grin. "But it ain't all bad news. There's a giant cuddle pit now."

[abhorrently]

Red eyes meet his, unflinching away, and she stays halfway in the path to anyone that might join him behind the counter.

"Since you're offering, two cubes of sugar and no milk."

Enough to take the bitterness away, but not to cloud the flavor.

"I left my gold in my other belt, though, if you're expecting payment."

[midnightroads]

"Right, and what am I going to do in a giant cuddle pit without Jeff?"

He can't hold a straight face for more than five seconds, though. His face turns incredibly queer after that.

[midnightroads]

"You're still pretty new, huh? Gold for payment doesn't mean much on this ship, never has." He makes a note of her preferences, though. No milk to cut the tannins... "Are you a red wine drinker, by preference?"

[crushed_pearls]

"Lounge on sufficient cushions to fit your whole body? That's what I've been doing."

Erin leans in, her face softening. "...Bash, you don't want him in this current crisis. You really don't. He can't mansplain, manipulate, manwhore this shit and Jeff ain't great at option four, manslaughter."

[midnightroads]

"Okay. Are those Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer in that order?" Fight me, mansplain is absolutely Autumn to a T. "But you know I'm not happy doing the manslaughter shit, either, Erin. I will, if I gotta. But it doesn't do me good."

[crushed_pearls]

Erin snorts a laugh at Bash's countermeme. "It's not so bad that we're out here doing human sacrifice, but things are wearing down, getting broke. Repairs are once a month, food too..." She shrugs her wings.

"...I still order that lavender coffee you made for me."

cw: corpse talk

[abhorrently]

"No, my preference is freshly harvested bile, still warm from the corpse, but when we're out of that, anything will do."

It's one thing to say something and have others be unsure if you're joking or not. It's another to say it and be uncertain yourself, but she manages to not so much as blink with that.

"I've spent too long traveling to simply be grateful for the wine I have instead of fussing over the type."

[midnightroads]

"Well. I can make you even better shit, if you'd like. If I heard right, it's PSL season." That's not what he places in front of her right now, though. This is, instead, smores-flavored mocha, heavy on the marshmallow.

[midnightroads]

"That doesn't make it easier to hone in on your coffee preferences, you know."

If he's weirded out by the talk of bile and corpses, it doesn't show. He passes her a cup, dressed to her liking, of Blue Mountain. Dense bean, light on the acidity, strong. It's well-balanced, and high quality.

[abhorrently]

"Let me put it another way, then. I haven't gotten the chance to develop those preferences, since most of the time, it's the brewer's road or the high road."

Breathing in the scent, it tells her both that the brew is a good one, and that there's nothing added to the mix. Not that he would have, it's just habit, before she takes a sip.

"If this is your road, though, it's quite a good one."

[midnightroads]

"I'm a collector of brews; I can walk you through several varieties and talk about their differences like snobs talk about wine. But only if that's something you'd be into. I'm not here to dominate your time for no reason, you hear?"

But her reaction tickles him, clearly. He's as susceptible to praise as any out there.

[abhorrently]

"Of course. But you already had my attention when you made sure anyone crossing the Promenade would know what you were up to. Is this how you always create?"

By this, she means the scent that hangs in the air as flowers do in a perfumer's shop.

Calgona

[takethatnature]

Wilson isn't here for a manicure; he's here because there's a fresh batch of spa supplies and he wants to take the nail polish remover and use it for science. But there's a guy in the spa already using the nail stuff. Is that Klaus? No, it's the other guy who looks like Klaus but slightly different. It's been almost six months since he had that combination of thoughts, and he's not sure if he's seen the nail polish guy any more recently than that or not.

He realises he's been standing there for an awkwardly long time. "Are you going to be here for a while?"

Arrival

[mistertwister]

Okie was going to get a glimpse of the new passengers on a whim, plain and simple, when he spots someone that makes him freeze. He knew people could come back, Undine was his roommate for god's sake, but that couldn't be, could it? He's seeing paper stars.

"Bash?"