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

[conclusively]

He'd felt the air, but not looked up, so Flan's appearance makes him freeze for half a second, before he takes a portion of a breath to reorient himself. Fortunately he can have that mistaken for the injury, and looking her over, her sense of ease is...

Well. It's unsettling, given the circumstances, but everything about her suggests someone capable of handling herself, though she would be more suited to scaling canyons and Kilimanjaro than standing in a smoking lounge. It's in her frame and her practical clothing, as well as the hands.

"Hopefully, madame, I do not. I would rather not carry a memento of a bloodthirsty crustacean with me."

He's already bearing enough knife scars for his own taste. This one would just be embarrassing.

"Do you mean to say this is a known problem aboard?"

[allhonourablemen]

"I sure fuckin' hope the Captain knows how expensive and illegal it is to clone me. The licensing fees- SS-C's lawyers are gonna be so far up his ass he'll sneeze litigations. Not to mention HA's fees for the Genghis Khan DNA in me, they own that copyright for another few thousand years."

Oh noooo, he's a cloooone, whatever will he doooo- yeah he had that crisis a couple of decades ago and he's not having it again here.

"Sorta a Chevyx-egg situation. She had the Fthark, named the business, then the first Fthark died and she named the second Fthark after the business, so nobody would ask who Big Samson is. Good boss, all things equal."

[kingoftheanthill]

"Oh. I eat mystery meat sometimes and I never got a worm! Maybe we don't have them in Canada?"

Several ants are attacking the muffin again, this time on the tabletop. There are so many crumbs.

"Hey, I'm not just ants." Please... You wound him...... "I'm very smart and clever ants and I made myself think and learn rules! I even learned the other secret rules that people don't say but expect you to know anyway, like how you can't decide it's table time by yourself just because nobody's there to catch you. You can't do that if you're just ants."

Mmm, brekfas

[guildmastermind]

"That...looks like meat. Have you never had it before? It's cooked animal flesh, eaten for its fat and protein content."

Look, he's not taking anything for granted, from the animal it seems like it might be from to whatever reasons this guy seems unfamiliar with it.

[conclusively]

"Given its public nature, the complete absence of such is a pointed choice. We are meant to remain ignorant on the specifics of where we are, what this ship was designed to do, and where we may be headed."

It's that, or the librarian is rather simple minded, but he doesn't wish to assume that level of the worst of someone he hasn't met yet. But the goodwill he might have come with started disappearing the moment he realized there was some godforsaken bone charm around his neck, and that he would have to hold up on this alone.

Closing the rather saccharine novel he had just pulled with a promising title - no, just something about young people and dragons of all things, not an actual reference - he shelves it, then steps back to look at the shelf in its entirety.

"Unless there's a second library full of fact, but I saw no such thing on any map."

[guildmastermind]

"That's one possible conclusion." Shiroe glances back at the shelf, considering for a moment. Not the books, he's gotten what he's currently going to get from them. But how do you broach the topic of multiverse theory in order to explain the possibility that some of these would be reference books in someone's world?

...carefully. Slowly. Any maybe not all at once.

"Please forgive me, I'm about to ask a few questions that might sound nonsensical. But I would not ask them if I felt safe assuming the answers were the same for you as for me. What year is it, to your knowledge?"

[allhonourablemen]

"... like New-Canada-8? Off the second ring? Or Kahn'ada in Baronies space- uh- what's it- House of Fathoms?"

He fucking hates that he still remembers the Baronies' bullshit politics even this long after being discharged. But that can't be it- if alien ant swarms were in Baronies space then everyone would know about it. The damn thing would be full of so many Favours that they couldn't walk.

"Okay, smart-ants it is. I just never saw ants that could talk before. Usually swarms 't talk to each other like you are... machines. Not real bugs."

[allhonourablemen]

"Any idea what kind of meat? Perk? Synthen? Soyvek? Protevar? Some brand I haven't had yet?"

Probably not, he's eaten at some of the finest dives the 11th ring has to offer, there's not a commercially available brand of redi-meat he hasn't got his mitts on.

"There's no way they're giving out real animal meat for free."

[guildmastermind]

Shiroe tilts his head to the side, taking all that in. Alright, the guy is paranoid, distrustful. Can't blame him for that. But 'real animal meat' being a luxury to be suspicious of, that has a lot of implications.

"If it's not real, it's an excellent facsimile. It smells, tastes and has the mouthfeel of real pork."

[allhonourablemen]

"That's pork?"

He gestures with his chopsticks towards the... now cold meat in his hand.

"You're fuckin' with me. Real pork. From a fuckin' pig. With the curly tails and the sharp teeth and everything," another gesture with the chopstick towards his mouth.

"How've you had pork before?"

Auntie Maya | KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS

[noodle_seller]

1. What do you think of death?

This is not Throne, of that Maya was most certain. On what world she now resides she does not know. She follows the pull leisurely, accepts the lei with gratitude, and ponders. There is only one course of action available.

"Above all," she concludes aloud. "I must find food, and drink."

2. The man who strikes without thought can cut God.

Mathangi ten Meti, student of the principal art of Cutting, conqueror of 20,000 worlds, has shed blood to a crab armed with a knife. She laughs, after a moment of shock, and turns to face it.

"I must thank you, small thing, for the reminder that I am not so great as to ignore small dangers."

[kingoftheanthill]

The question about Canada... stops Victor short. He's not sure he's ever wondered before whether the Canada he lives in is the only one, or whether there are several. Surely it's at least the most important one, since it's lucky enough to have Victor in it.

"I... don't know," he admits. "It might be the second one? You'd have to ask April or Flan, they've actually been outside! They're here too. They've both taught me a lot, but I forgot some of it." Having your brain spread in thousands of teeny tiny pieces among thousands of teeny tiny creatures is not the most efficient system for reliable recall.

Meanwhile, one of those teeny tiny creatures has sniffed its way over to the pork lying neglected in a little puddle of broth, and all of a sudden there are a dozen more, running over, circling the liquid and waving their antennae excitedly.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Is this what you wanted to know what it was?"

[conclusively]

"1873. The spring of it, to be exact. Yet some of these novels bear publication dates from far beyond that year."

So, the worry over being nonsensical may not be as warranted as he thinks.

"I am forced to conclude that time has a different weight here, or it is entirely disrespected."

Mezo Shouji | MHA

[dupli_arms]

a)
This is...not what he's come to expect out of his life. Destruction and chaos, monsters and villains, tests of strength and intelligence and will to survive, all par for the course. Suddenly being transported away from all that in the middle of the night? Not so much.

What other passengers will see as he makes his slow, cautious way out to follow that drill, barely trying to stray from the path in the interest of getting to the bottom of this, is a young man in loose, comfortable camouflage pants, a tight-fitting olive-green tanktop, heavy boots, and a soft blue gator-style mask that hides a peculiarly elongated face from nose to neck. Perhaps most notable are his arms: Roped with thick muscle, with bulky shoulders that support, upon cursory inspection, a decidedly weird amount of extra arms, webbed together by thinner skin. In no way does he seem to be offput by this. In fact, as he's moving along the decks for this drill, the ends of these appendages are shifting into eyes, ears, even a nose. He's taking in as much detail as he can about this place, quietly noting everyone that he passes without speaking up unless spoken to.

The woman(?) that speaks to him gets a long look, and Shouji instinctively ducks his head so that that lei can be placed over it. Not what he would have expected to get on a cruise ship, but then again, he has too little information as it is. He'd have to find a pamphlet, or perhaps some other staff. Maybe even one of the other UA students, if indeed others had come along with him.

If it's just him, he may reach the conclusion that this is simply a very real, very strange dream. It wouldn't be the first time he's had one.

b)
Moving through the ship to acquaint himself with his surroundings, with ears upon ears upon eyes all branching out from the central trunks of his arms, finds him stopping to inspect a few places. The Sundries shop ends up being where he goes to find some sunscreen, and then Bric-a-Brac, then the various eateries and bars. He doesn't go in immediately, mostly watching and listening, but there are some places in his tour of the place that he would come back to in time.

At the desk at Guest Services, he would be examining the paper cranes, crouched to get a better look. It's such a simple thing, but it makes him feel a little bit better.

At the Tommy Bahama, he's already looking through a selection of the kind of plus-sized button-ups that would give his arms plenty of room to fit through the sleeves...with the intention of eventually pulling the sleeves off anyway. Look, when your shoulders are that big, sleeves are generally the enemy.

On the Sports Deck, he can be seen assessing the equipment. Does any of this stuff even get used? More importantly: is there a proper gym anywhere on the boat where he could maintain his routine?

All the while, he can occasionally be seen looking hard at, and then trying to talk to, the shadows. And avoid the knife-wielding crab that, for whatever reason, seems to be appearing at random just to menace the ankles of whoever it sees. What a weird little thing...

c)
After a day, Shouji is finding that he just doesn't understand this place. It doesn't seem as if any two people are from the same worlds, their concepts of what makes sense seem to differ from his own, he's sure he's seen a colony of ants attempting to hold a conversation, and there's a man that his brain immediately classifies as a heteromorph walking around in a leather jacket with a guitar on his back making idle smalltalk with others out and about. He'd been asked by this guy if he was anything like a...Hand of...Monbleem? (Moodbleen. Wayne thought he might be a Hand of Moodbleen.)

The buttons are putting him on edge to say the least, even as harmless as those little shocks seem to be. He'd hit the blue one just to see what it would hand him, but as soon as he'd hit the green and received that shock, he opted not to touch it again.

Too bad that it seems to be rampant throughout the ship. They've got some faulty wiring around here. Should they call someone about this?

d) (wildcard)
No matter where you might meet him, it is entirely possible that you may have seen an ear or an eye on a long stalk preceding him around a corner or through a door. Unless you're somehow magically hidden from him, making no noise or any other indication that you're there, he will quickly notice you and withdraw it, either letting it become inert, or else turning it into a hand with which to wave. He doesn't mean to be alarming, he just...is. Sorry.

[[Info and permissions over yonder.]]

[ablativeholopleather]

There are a few of them that lurk about the buffet regularly, and seeing new people arriving was becoming less of an alarming occurrence. After all, as people cycled out, others would be brought in to replace them one way or another. Like maintaining equilibrium so that reality wouldn't fall apart.

He's putting himself together a too-large salad when Shiroe starts to pick through the fare here, and he smiles faintly at the way the guy relaxes and immediately goes back for more.

"Careful of the red plates," he offers without elaborating further just yet.

recollection

[astrogator]

There's a woman sitting on a table not too far from him. Young, with dark hair pulled back in a bun, and a blue and silver uniform that's probably recognisably military, but certainly isn't familiar. She has an unlit cigar in one hand.

'You handled that very efficiently,' she says, her gaze dropping meaningfully to his makeshift bandage.

To Arilanna Tayrey, efficiency is a compliment, but the real reason she spoke up is because that quiet exhortation to himself, that will to focus? It's all too familiar.

[yourexoduslaughing]

"Awww, well you know, it's your body so I hope you get what you wish. But I'm telling you, stabbed by a bloodthirsty crustacean is a hell of a story to tell at a party." She grins at the guy, amused by his very respectable way of talking. Bet he's having some real culture shock! He's holding together well though. Anytime they get fur trappers stumbling their way out of history, they just refuse to stop swearing and threatening everyone.

"He's a known problem today at least! I've been following him at a safe distance for a few hours now. The guy's a natural with a blade!" Honestly, it's really impressive. Like yeah, crabs will grab onto stuff you give them, but they're not really known for being good at using what they're holding. "What I really want to know is if somebody gave him the knife, or if he found it somewhere. Or! Maybe he manifested it!"

[yourexoduslaughing]

"Ooooo Genghis Khan! Very nice! Are you like, custom made or does your world retroactively copyright DNA?" Maybe both! But also like, nightmare, yikes! Anyway, it's going to be fun when he realizes there's totally no way to extradite the Captain to sue 'em, so nobody's going to do anything about the cloning or kidnapping or the rest.

She does nod somewhat sagely at the reasons for Big Samson being Big Samson. "Got it! Smart honestly, you'd have to change the logo and everyone would be mistaking your boss for Big Samson instead. I've got friends who've done stuff like that, just swapped in a new one to replace the old one, nobody was the wiser! Not really my thing but everyone's got their bag! Plus, good boss is the bit that I figure is important. Work's fine with a good boss and miserable with a bad one."

Xellos | Slayers

[dissimulates]

Arrival
[Mysterious kidnappings aren't unusual in Xellos' home, but not with him as the victim. He's more likely to tag along for the hell of it and enjoy how angry and violent everyone gets. So he's more than a little miffed to find himself in an unfamiliar room, forced in one direction with his only clue being a note so ominously cheerful and unhelpful he could've written it.

He listens to the faceless lady with an air of polite cheer. Xellos goes through the motions with uncharacteristic promptness - he would like his legs unfrozen, thank you very much - but he just might smack someone across the face with an arm as he practices putting his life belt on. Must be an accident, don't worry about it.

Then he's free to go, but none the wiser. My, this really won't do...]

I feel like this drill failed to cover quite a few important subjects.


B. Crab attack
[To some people, the armed crab may seem like an odd prank. Surely it couldn’t get the knife on its own - someone with opposable thumbs must have freed it and taped the weapon on. A crab wouldn’t want to murder anyone.

Xellos knows better. He’s a heartless monster who thrives on chaos and misery and he knows Evil when he sees it. He’s not even offended when the little creature slashes his leg – in fact he seems to enjoy meeting a kindred spirit.]

Oh my, [He sidesteps the next attack when Ody comes skittering back. It stops, swivels and charges again. Xellos blocks its advance with his staff and scoops the crab up, paying no mind to the flailing pincers.] Aren’t you a feisty little fellow. It must be hard to run around with that thing on your back…

[He places the crab on the nearest elevated surface: a bar, library shelf, café table. It seems like he’s about to remove the knife, except - ]

Uh-oh~

[Suddenly Ody is free. It's running straight at you, and this time it has the higher ground.]


C. Any food place
[Soaking up everyone's misery as they wait for The Horrors is fun and all, but it's time to see what else this pocket dimension has to offer. Xellos hums a jaunty tune as he wanders around like a sightseeing tourist, sipping a fruity cocktail with a swirly straw. The eateries are especially impressive, with every food he can think about and some he's never even heard of. Perhaps the first step should be rectifying that.]

Hmm... [Whether it's the buffet, ice cream place or the cheese shop, Xellos seems to have some trouble picking what to try first. He turns to the nearest person with a friendly smile.]

Do you have a recommendation? There are so many, I can't decide!


D. Wildcard
( hmu! )

b (Sports Deck)

[glassaxolotl]

Dedue has been practicing his unarmed combat techniques on a punching bag, keeping mindful of form and stance as he pummels into the sturdy fabric. In the month prior to the labyrinth, Dedue was so reclusive that he did not have time to train. And now that Dimitri has lost one eye and potentially gained the ire of a good portion of the ship once they realize who was the one who freed the ghosts, Dedue figures it is best to return to protector mode.

He notices someone enter the sports deck out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t recognize him. The extra arms with extra eyeballs only get a tiny, nearly imperceptible double-take from him, before he remembers how many people on this ship have forms that would have been unusual back on his world.

Moving away from the punching bag, he nods silently at the newcomer. “Are you new to the Serena?” he asks in his usual neutral tone.

[dupli_arms]

The familiar sound of fists against a punching bag had drawn his attention, but he hadn't approached just yet, inclined to examining the other available equipment. He could make use of it later after all, and for the time being, occupy himself here. Of course, when he's acknowledged, he straightens up from the weights that he'd been lifting just off the deck to inspect to face the man that stands several inches taller than him, and immediately offer him a polite bow.

"Yes, sir." His voice is perhaps higher than might be expected from someone of his stature, quiet in the way of someone accustomed to keeping to himself.

[glassaxolotl]

Shouji’s response tells Dedue a lot of things at once.

This is someone who is used to responding quickly to authority. And potentially someone who needs to overcompensate for a harsh appearance with polite etiquette. (The mask covering the lower half of the teenager’s face seems to support this theory.)

Dedue shakes his head. “I ask as a fellow passenger. Not as a superior.” It is strange to be on the other side of this sort of interaction.

[dupli_arms]

The way that Dedue reads him immediately is not lost on him. Shouji straightens himself up, looking the man in the face instead, hands falling to rest at his sides. His address remains formal, though he does make an effort to tone down the deference. Rather than speaking through his mask, one of his limbs lifts, shifted into a mouth that enunciates much more clearly.

"I only just woke up here and I'm trying to get my bearings. Gathering some information in the meantime," he explains, an eye on a tendril lifted up as an example. "I suppose it wouldn't be too farfetched to assume that you've been here a while."

start

[ligero]

Ordinarily, Cyrus Douglas would be delighted to be on the sea again.

But this? It's overwhelming. He is only stunned briefly before his mind kicks into defiance. Yes, whoever is in charge here has stolen him away; no, they will not have him without a fight. Unfortunately for him, forever, he hasn't got a choice. By the time he does make it to deck one, he is late, having spent several minutes trying and failing to will himself anywhere but where this place wants him to be. But as bewildering and futile as it's all been, there's still a resoluteness to Cyrus' expression as he stands among all the rest. Somehow, he'll figure this out.

It's that delay that keeps him from meeting Mycroft until the end of the drill. If anything were to grant him a bit of hope in this situation, it'd be him: a man with the answers to, well, everything stored in his head.

"Holmes!" he cries: the relief on his face makes it clear in a single look that there's no other man Cyrus would rather find right now. He hurries over, clapping a stabilizing hand on Mycroft's shoulder. (Reckless? Perhaps. But it has been a very long morning.)

"There you are. Thank God." But when he sees the troubled expression on Mycroft's face, his own face falls, too. "What the deuce is going on?"

[glassaxolotl]

His eyes drift to the tendrils and then back to Shouji’s face.

“I have been here for roughly six months. Moons on my world, though I believe months is more common here.” He doesn’t count the time he spent in Arcadia, which was an unquantifiable amount of time.

“I can assist if there is anything you are confused about.”