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

[notscary]

Hearing Chrissy's voice in the Upside Down is definitely a new fucking low, and Eddie hasn't been awake long enough (or had enough time to process what the fuck is going on) to piece anything together when his eyes snap open. Full of fear and regret, wide dark orbs as he takes a step back, tripping over his own ankles, stumbling backward and onto his ass, looking up at her, face twisting with the same horror it had on the night she'd so horrendously died right in front of him.

His hands sort of catch his fall, but he does a bit of a crab walk a couple more paces away from her. "Chrissy?!" High, squeaky, eyes snapping shut again. God, fuck this. He'd do anything he could to enact vengeance on her behalf, but he doesn't want to look at her, if she's not actually real. Which, she can't be. Tears sting as his eyes, hand going up over his eyes as he swallows hard, head shaking desperately in place. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up." Through gritted teeth, a soft 'fuck,' thrown in at the end when it's not working, knows he's still on that same stupid deck.

[bubblegumheart]

She'd been in the process of deciding how to ask if he remembered anything about being here before without sounding accusatory. There's no point in doing so now, as the answer seems pretty obvious.

He looks about the same as he had the last time she saw him, all things considered, and Chrissy can't decide if that's a good thing or not. He also looks terrified, which is honestly not an incorrect response to this place. She's never actually seen him like this, so it's all she can manage to wait quietly until he calms down.

When it seems like that's not what's going to happen here, Chrissy crouches in an attempt to make herself seem less overwhelming. "It's okay, Eddie. What's the last thing you remember?"

[notscary]

Christ, her voice is so sweet, so kind, so Chrissy. His eyelids stay squeezed together for awhile longer, a good half minute, while a stuttered gurgle in his throat sounds. Too much emotion in one young man's body, and Eddie has nowhere to put it all.

He moves, shifting so his back is against some hard surface, a wall, arms going to curl around his legs. Finally brown eyes open, wet and tears streaking down, looking over at Chrissy, pain striking everywhere in his body.

Dark curls shaking along with his head, he can't stop staring at her now, unblinking, lips like lead weights. He's heard the question, but what does asking it do? If it's part of some sick game, what's the purpose? His heart thrums quickly, anxiety and panic surging through his veins, lips parting gradually, enough to whisper out words. An answer, weak and vague, details that will sound weird, possibly unfamiliar.

"Bats, and...fighting. Vecna. Chrissy." Desperate, whiny, heart aching, throat hoarse. "Are you...real?"

Because, she just can't be?

[bubblegumheart]

Even as she asks the question, Chrissy finds herself hoping, quite selfishly in fact, that the last thing he remembers has nothing to do with Vecna or Hawkins. It's foolish and unlikely, given the state he's in now, but a girl can dream.

There's nothing to do but wait while he comes to terms with being here. It's something that every passenger has to do in their own time. Being patient is easy. Being stared at isn't her favorite thing, but can she really blame him for it? If what she's assuming is correct, the last time he saw her was deeply unpleasant.

When he does finally answer, it's about the same as what he'd told her last October. He's left out the part about dying, Chrissy notices, which means that either he doesn't know or he's trying to protect her from hearing something unpleasant. Should she tell him that she knows, or would that just make things worse?

She's spared that particular dilemma, for the time being, when he speaks up again. "I'm as real as everyone else here," she tells him. It's just not as straightforward as he's probably hoping.

"And we are here. It's not a dream that you're going to wake up from." At least as far as she knows. It's been almost a year since she woke up here the first time, though, so she figures something like that would have happened a long time ago if it was going to happen at all.