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

[moonlesstides]

~You may cry, small wave.~ Grace's bubbling 'voice' comes in small streams, barely floating up from the depths of Undine's mind. ~You are safe. There will be none to judge you and any who try will be my prey and know no peace.~

[treadwater]

“It’s…you don’t need to explain the ship to me. You don’t. I’m not new, I’m coming back. I’m back and I know about Siffleur and about the other problems of the ship.”

So she knows just how not-safe she really is here.

[moonlesstides]

~I...had meant the clothing beast. The hunter Siffleur has been...assisting me, with some...he has been assisting me.~ Grace pulls back, but only some; her visible eye is locked on Undine's face. ~You left this place, and are now returned? This is the meaning of your words?~

[treadwater]

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” She wipes her face with the back of her sleeve. “I didn’t choose to leave, though. It wasn’t…I don’t understand why I’m back.”

[moonlesstides]

~Perhaps you still need something it has to offer. My -~ she almost visibly swerves mid-phrase, ~- friend, the poet Helena, has told me this ship may be a place of great liberations. I needed, and still need, something like that, though the doors stand ever so barred and guarded. I will not ask what you need when I am a stranger to you, but perhaps it is here.~

A thought occurs to the fish girl, and a mortified expression flickers across her face. ~You may call me Grace. It is my pleasure to meet you, small wave.~

[treadwater]

“My name is Undine. Why did you decide to call me ‘small wave’?” It is not in any way inaccurate. But it’s also a hell of a thing.

[moonlesstides]

In answer, Grace very slowly puts her whole-ass hand on top of Undine's hair. ~But if you do not like this I will cease. This is a lesson I have learned in my liberation here.~

[treadwater]

“It’s okay. I think I’ll like it more once I know you.”

Aw, pats. She is adorable.

[moonlesstides]

Grace leans back, 'sitting' above the floor with a distinct lounge. ~Perhaps so. If introductions are in order...I was...I am, a hunter of the living. Maybe I can be something else, here, but for now that is what I am.~

She lays her harpoon across her lap, her palm resting on top of it.

[treadwater]

“I’m a magical girl. I fight monsters.” So, you know, if Grace is a problem, there’s someone wet and magic who can deal with that, but maybe that won’t be an issue at all?

Damn Canon Characters And Their One-Liners

[moonlesstides]

~...How do you know what monsters to fight? There seem to be so many different kinds.~

[treadwater]

“Well, if they’re attacking the city, trying to destroy buildings and hurt people, that tends to be a clue they’re an issue. Right?”

Don’t make her justify all of the everything. She can only do it so well.

[moonlesstides]

Grace nods. She does actually understand that this time. However...

~...My former employment would, unfortunately, have placed us at odds. But it has not followed me here. The hunter Siffleur - his assistance is to this end. I. Would prefer, if to hunt was my choice, and not something I must do. But I do not know.~

There's something so very fragile in her words and on her face right now.

[treadwater]

“Before, when I was on the ship, I wanted my former employment to end, too. I didn’t want to have to be someone who was about fighting monsters.”

Undine glances down at her drink quietly.

“We get choices, here.”

[moonlesstides]

~And discoveries! Lessons! Friends! Friends have been delightful. The people here have been so kind that sometimes it doesn't feel real.~

[treadwater]

“Yeah? Yeah. That’s a little bit how it is here. Even people who you don’t expect to have anything in common with might become friends for you, someday.”

A pause.

“You should try drinking the boba.”

[moonlesstides]

Poor choice of words Undine. Grace leans over and just takes a big sip of Undine's drink. If she breathed she'd be choking on pearls right now; as it stands she's lightly slapping at her own neck to try and force them down.

~This seems strangely hazardous to mortal things.~

[treadwater]

“Okay, but you were warned! You saw me blow one onto your puddle!”

Like, it was more warning than Tayrey and Lucius got.

[moonlesstides]

Grace puts on her best haughty look and - THERE IT GOES, DISLODGED! - can't keep it long; her giggle is small and shy, not a skill she's practiced, but her visible eye is practically sparkling. ~You have the funny. I do like that - oh!~

Grace sits up straight. ~You mustn't touch my spear, for your own safety. It is hostile to the living. It shouldn't normally be a problem but sometimes it is on the outside when I ride the automated washtubs and you mustn't touch it in that event.~

[treadwater]

"...you ride the...why would you ride the washing machines?"

Grace, that's weird.

[moonlesstides]

~It is convenient to me, as I do not require air to live. Additionally I enjoy the fast spinning, especially during the part when the machine experiences great rage and seeks to shake its innards to death. It is like a merry-go-round, except also different. Though...~ That shy, unpracticed smile again, unsure but so very bright. ~At first I had thought them bathtubs and was confused as to how mortal things were meant to survive them.~

Damn canon characters and their one-liners.

[treadwater]

"You ride inside them?????"

[moonlesstides]

~Yes! Thus the warning about my spear so that accidents may not happen.~

Look at her Undine she's beaming like a kid who did a Good Job.

[treadwater]

Is it weird that the more Undine thinks about it, the more she wants to make a pool whirlpool for Grace?

Thoughts to act on later, though.

"Oh. Uh. Thank you for the warning?"

[moonlesstides]

She's gonna get such a good grade in Manners.

~It is no trouble. We all must live amongst each other, and if I am to harm someone's body I would vastly prefer to do so with malice aforethought. The gentleman who first taught me the ways of the city-folk intimated that to harm by mistake rather than malice is in itself an insult, which shows a lack of consideration for one's victim.~