sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #10

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No storms? Huh. Has there been a reason given behind that, or is it just the state of the world?"

He pauses to pour a little more wine. This conversation's good in that he's getting a lot of information. But it is a lot.

Erin waves her glass vaguely. "This place isn't big on moving parts. Food doesn't rot, none of the machines have insides, the wine restocks itself from nowhere. A result without a process, y'know? I've dealt with effects with uh...uneven relationships with cause before, but if you want to know the mechanisms that's all Ms. Friday and last I heard she's not big on straight answers about it. I - well, actually." Erin taps out what's left of her cigar and leans back. "Something called the Erda is involved. It seems to have a relationship with communal desire, and it brings, well, you, but also the passengers and the packages we get. These cigars, for instance."

“So it’s all really shitty programming, is what you’re saying. Noclip hard enough and you see how hollow it all really is.” Which makes it the opposite of his past experience in some ways. But still, he can figure out how to handle anything. That’s his job, to follow the chain of effects and brace for what others haven’t foreseen.

With extremely pained chagrin: "I only know 'noclip' from people describing walking through doors like they aren't there that way."

She feels.

SO.

FUCKING

OLD RIGHT NOW

Shiroe snickers. "I'm sorry, I think in the jargon of games. You can always stop me and remind me to use plain speech."

"I'll keep it in mind, but all other things being equal I'd rather learn. People put up with my quirks." Wine will help. Erin takes a nice sip of hers. "Which, speaking of, anything I should dodge? I host social events sometimes so like, if you've got a diet requirement or an allergy or, I dunno, the body you're in can't be in the presence of Mountain Dew or something...?"

"Nothing like that, no. Though I'm not really big on social events? I'm a shut-in gamer type, we're not the best at making friends, you know." There's a degree of self-mockery of the protective sort. Like if he makes the joke first, maybe it won't hurt when others say the same things about him, behind or before his back.

"Ship's only so big buddy, you can't dodge them all." Erin makes a little hum. "Related story, my roommate Helena runs a braille class once a week. You should say hi. We've got a few blind folks, might get more, but it's also a decently neutral venue to meet her. My little bird is a treasure, and you share a community spirit."

"I have a tough enough time with English, you want me to layer a whole second writing system on top of it?" The complaint isn't all that serious though. He's noting the name already. "And why is a neutral venue for meeting her important?"

"Helena's..." Erin shrugs her wings. "It'll be better for her than getting cornered accidentally in a more private setting."

"...from all you've seen of me so far, does that sound like something I'd do to anyone, let alone a blind woman?"

Like, he doesn't think he gives off creepy guy at a game store vibes, but he has to check.

"Nah, it's not about your vibes." Erin's voice gentles. "...A lot of people here in your new home have painful pasts, and they cut us into different shapes. Me, I like private chats like this. They feel like a gesture of trust. Others though...they can feel trapped by social convention, emotional responses, or just their own screaming inner demons. You dig? Helena's not fragile, but choosing to meet her after class when she's got an excuse to leave whenever is...a gesture of consideration."

"I see. What you need to understand about me is that I'm already fighting against the instinct to lock myself in my room and hide from everyone altogether. To be dropped on my own into an existing social network with no one I know is...terrifying. Everyone has their own connections and there's some part of me that says I'm not going to be useful or necessary to anyone here, so I should just...not."

Erin steeples her fingers.

Takes a deep breath.

"...So anyone told you we just get assigned roommates sometimes?"

“Ah. Great.”

He already resents his potential roommate. It’s not their fault, but introvert hours needs introvert space.

"Is it better or worse if I tell you the roommate choices seem to either have themes or jokes? My room contains both of the ship's blind women, which, like, honestly worked out great, but also the fuck, y'know?"

“I’m not sure that makes it much better, no.”

He sighs heavily. “I’ll deal with it, though. No choice, right?”

"Not no choice, but sharply restricted, yes." Erin sighs. "Just don't do what a few people have did now and end up camping out in the library or something, we can and will mock you forever. But it ain't all bad. Folks have been...very understanding. If you get roomed with an experienced passenger I can't imagine any issues."

Mostly because the potentially problematic ones have roommates already.

"...hey, I might not have picked the library. It seems like the sort of place people visit regularly. I'd have found someplace quieter."

"...We've got a nice cozy morgue?"

"I'll see how bad my roommate actually is before making that decision."

Erin laughs a light and friendly laugh. "Honestly the ship is only so big. The morgue might be the least-used room but even then it still like, sees travel sometimes. Which is kinda what I'm driving at? This might be a floating city but there's still a maximum distance you can get from other human people here."

He nods his understanding, still thoughtful about everything.

"I'm sure I'll be able to figure out how to get by, even with such spatial limitations. Really."

TEST DRIVE MEME #10

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