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

~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.

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?"

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.~

These are better manners for a different context.

"...so you mean that hurting someone out of malice is a good thing?"

Grace has to have a big think about that one. Partway through she takes one of her cups of tea and sips at it while she's Thinking. Her free hand goes into a little fist under her chin.

~...Not by itself, but it is...more respectful. To name one's resentment and prosecute it, to declare boundaries, these are the things that are good which my spear and my Depths may do. When the resentment is satisfied it is no longer good to continue.~

You know, it's not human ethics, but it's at least internally consistent. Undine, whose world is clearly the high point of ethical treatment of all people, including teenage girls, decides not to argue.

Grace reaches out, tea still in hand, and boops Undine's nose with a claw. ~Learning these things is something I am still doing, but there was another part of this lesson. The gentleman said, one must give opportunity to retract the insult; to deny this is crass, and unbecoming of the city-folk. I try to remember. Being among people, with words of my own they can understand, this is new.~

"That's...good. If you can settle things with words, it's always best to try to do that first, yeah."

Oh no, she has been booped by a fish, now she'll turn into a mermaid or magical water girl or something.

An absolutely solemn nod. ~Words have a dread power beyond all arms and might. Are you a creature of words, little wave?~

"No, I'm a creature of water and magic. Which is why the nickname surprised me; it fits."

She smiles slightly. "I'm not bad at words, I've had media training like any of my kind, but they're not my first tool."

~...Water...~

Grace flows up in one smooth motion and gets behind the counter, where she fills one of the coffee cups with water and then comes back to set it down in front of Undine, looking at her with wide-eyed curiosity.

Well. That's certainly a cue to transform, isn't it? The girl becomes the magical girl, and then immediately blorbles the water up from the glass to float in mid-air.

Grace sticks her whole face inside the blorble and then silently laughs in delight, air bubbles escaping from her mouth. ~How delightful! I see now how you must have hunted monsters, but you said nothing about the new clothing - it's so frilly! You are of the city-folk, then?~

That last question is along the lines of 'excuse me, are you Buzz Aldrin?'

"I mean, I grew up in a city, I suppose."

~Wonderful! I've heard takes of only one city, but such tales! A million souls, each welcomed as citizens - 'people of the city', as the gentleman explained!~

Very slowly Grace pulls her face out of the water and then starts touching her hair to see if it's wet.

TEST DRIVE MEME #10

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The Most Ethical Bubble City Ever

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