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

CW: unsanitary mention, also Sols I should pun-ish you for not adding a tag

[blindwatchersees]

"Ah, but what led to his immortalization doesn't really matter, does it? Mighty or meek, all those engraved in stone or wrought in metal share equally in the fate of being shat upon by pigeons for centuries, or however long it takes for the inglorious effigy to come crashing down. A truly noble fate, to be sure- remembered by generations for being covered in bird crap!"

I was tired last night, bite me. :P

[businessorlibation]

"Such a shame we don't have pigeons on this ship, to treat the statue as statues deserve. Instead, we make our fun on Quincy Monmouth in other ways. Climbing or bedecking him with frippery. But if you please, the whiskey bar and humidor is just down the way, here."

He doesn't disagree with Lord Sheogorath's point, though. Johnny doesn't want statues for himself; his work of art is carving out himself, little by little.

Fangs for that

[blindwatchersees]

"Ah, yes, of course." He gives the statue a melodramatic, mocking bow as they're about past it.

"Now, do tell me. Beyond the lounge, where would you recommend I spend my precious time, Mr. Summer?"

You're welcome. I'm a ventrue friend.

[businessorlibation]

"I hardly know you well enough to give that question a complete answer, Lord Sheogorath. What spaces put one at ease differ broadly. I do recommend spending time out and about, among the passengers, rather than isolating oneself wholly."

...not that the agoraphobe really has much right to talk about isolating, huh?

Oh I Tore-adore where this thread of puns is going

[blindwatchersees]

"Oh, and I absolutely intend to!" he laughs heartily; it's a musical sound, perhaps more literally than laughs generally are, but only in a way the subconscious might notice.

"Of course I don't expect you to read my mind, Mr. Summer. You simply seem the sort that has a general idea of where a man of culture might find some comfort around here."

Give the mask a little nudge, and see how it dances!

You do enjoy a bit of good brujaha...

[businessorlibation]

"Well, comfort is freely offered at the cocktail bar, Stan the Man, particularly when I'm serving drinks there. Mikabo is refined dining, the plates coming to you. Though you may have to tolerate a quadrupedal dinner companion from time to time, there. Siffleur's a fan of the salmon sashimi. The library tends to be a retreat for the intellectual types and those hiding from the rest of the ship." Useful information, he hopes.

As they reach Tauva Bobby B's, Johnny slips behind the bar, in search of Irish whiskey.

It beats being overly Lasomb-er

[blindwatchersees]

"Plates come to you, do they? Do they have little legs?" Lord Sheogorath seems almost giddy at the idea, before his face falls.

"I don't believe my sweet little Pliny made it on board with me. A pity. He's a loyal little teapot, you know. Very handy to have around... partially on account of the fact that his base is a hand, and he skitters around on his fingers." There's a sort of rambling carelessness to how he speaks for a moment, but like a whiff of perfume on the air, it's gone just as quickly, replaced by an air of refinement once more.

"Yes, I do believe I'll be making some use of the library. Ships do tend to be noisy places, don't they?"

[businessorlibation]

"A teapot that walks on a hand. How...unique."

Right, he's beginning to get a vibe here, but he can't quite see through to the core of the Madgod yet.

"And yes, the ship is often quite lively. There's people with all sorts of opinions that they will let you know at the top of their lungs at all hours. May I pour you a glass?" He has a bottle of Bushmills 1975 in hand, a particularly fine vintage for that distillery.

[blindwatchersees]

"Please."

He sits down, his cane resting against his leg, and for a moment the brushed golden topper somehow seems to... blink? Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"You know, Mr. Summer, it's not that strange of a notion to me to think of people screaming at the top of their lungs about whatever is on their mind. You could say I'm a caretaker of such people, where I come from."

[businessorlibation]

Johnny doesn't respond to Sheogorath's words immediately, but when he does lift his head, there's a hint of humor. "A keeper of teenagers? Are you, sir, some sort of schoolmaster?"

[blindwatchersees]

"Well, I do teach lessons, from time to time. They're hardly all adolescents, though. I've quite a range of folks in my care. Young and old, rich and poor, educated and uneducated. But almost all of them tend to have something to scream about at some point, unless they're the sort that don't speak at all."

"To serve gives one status, don't you think?"

[businessorlibation]

"I don't understand." That's not quite true, the words heavy on his lips as he slowly comes around to the realization of what Sheogorath is speaking of. The invisible wall that kept him inside the Margrave building for years, feet leaden and immovable. The secret of Sir Mimley and the fire in his eyes as he argued with Dame Doctor Agatha Sampat. Ducky's suspicion turned upon him, while she buried her feelings too deep to acknowledge in herself.

Madness.

[blindwatchersees]

There's a gleam in his eyes, and they seem to grow a little brighter as that word crosses Johnny's mind.

"My dear Mr. Summer, is something the matter? If you have any questions, you only need to ask. Metaphorically, I'm all ears. Physically, that would be a terrible design choice."

Let the record show, a typo in workshopping almost autocorrected to worshipping.

[businessorlibation]

“No, sir, nothing wrong at all. I…” a shuddering breath, and he passes Sheogorath his glass, workshopping wording on the fly.

“If you are an entity associated with madness, I suppose it only makes sense for me to meet you. And there are others on this ship, as well, with whom you should become acquainted. Or already are?”

[blindwatchersees]

"Now, who said I was an entity? My good sir, I merely said I was a caretaker. But then again, you are rather perceptive, aren't you?" His grin only deepens. He's the Cheshire Cat in human form.

"Oh, there are many people on this ship that I'm well-acquainted with, just not with this name, and not with this face. Speaking of... have you met a Daedric Prince before, perchance?"

[businessorlibation]

“Sir, you changed shape before introducing yourself to me. While not all shapechangers are entities, I tend to err on the side of assuming people doing strange and magical things are more powerful and thus deserving of the height of respect.”

It comes from being one of the most human things on the ship still (for now. Spring is about to speak up…)

“Anyway. No, I haven’t heard of such a thing.”

[blindwatchersees]

"Well, probably better for you that you haven't! Terribly petty, Daedric Princes. Spiteful, conniving, vindictive. Still probably better company than your friend the mayor, though."

He takes a sip of his wine, enjoying it in a completely ordinary manner.

"Now, shall we speak with one another plainly, or shall we lead a merry little dance and pretend none of this came up?"

[businessorlibation]

“I am very good at pretending.” He exhales heavily. “But no, let’s talk as you wish. I am known to live with a phobia, which is diagnosably a form of mental illness.”

As if that’s the only seed of madness within him.

[blindwatchersees]

"As I wish? No, my dear Mr. Summer, we'll talk as you wish. For if I am what you say I am, after all, if I am what I say I am, I'm more inclined to simply be until I'm confronted. But I am curious how you've been handling living in what is essentially a giant hotel that you can't leave from. Because on the one hand, you never have to go out again, but on the other hand, everyone and everything from your daily life is already here!"

[businessorlibation]

"The same way I handle everything. With as much dignity as I can muster. I've tried to make the whole ship a sanctuary for me, and refused to leave for the vast majority of excursions. Twice, twice I've made it off the ship. Only once I'd truly say it was my choice, and that time one of my husbands was brutally murdered. I was left alone with his body. It did not help me want to get off the ship ever again."

[blindwatchersees]

He takes a sip of his drink, his expression growing less manic and more subdued by the second. Yellow eyes change to a cool indigo. The expression he's wearing... is it pity? Curiosity? Understanding? It's difficult to tell.

"Tell me, Mr. Summer. Why would you want to leave the ship?"

[businessorlibation]

"Because it's not good to stay trapped forever. Life can't be lived in a cage, not really."

Except. That all feels so trite, it's almost meaningless.

[blindwatchersees]

"Can't it, now? Quite a few people live their lives in cages, whether by force or by choice. Why, even I might fall into that category! Do you know, I'm the youngest of the Daedric Princes! And that's quite a feat, when everyone is supposed to be eternal and time doesn't quite work correctly. Do you want to know how I managed that?" He leans a little closer to Johnny, eyes glimmering darkly.

"They stuffed another god inside my newborn husk and hoped we'd both stay put forever."

He leans back, smiling, as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Now, now that I've gotten that off my chest... we agreed we'd be honest, didn't we? So do keep those lies you tell yourself out of your mouth, or I might have to rip out that silver tongue that's forming them."

[businessorlibation]

Johnny takes a slow, deep breath. "Alright then. I am happy on this ship, and I will do what I can to ensure the well-being of the other passengers here, because otherwise I'm going to feel world-shatteringly guilty about enjoying the life I'm currently living."

[blindwatchersees]

"Ah, yes. The guilt one feels over living their day-to-day life comfortably because someone else has it worse than them. The guilt of being fed and alive because somewhere out there, someone else is going without. The guilt of surviving and maybe even thriving where the wind has led you and let you take root, because someone else is somewhere less advantageous. It's very commonplace, you know, too commonplace, yet at the same time maybe not commonplace enough." He says this all calmly, not breaking his gaze away from Johnny.

"It's a bit of a tricky predicament, isn't it? Too much guilt, and you start depriving yourself, but too little causes you to lose touch. And of course, there's the little issue of you being so intelligent, Mr. Summer. You think about things. You can't help but think about things, and so the wheels in your head keep turning, turning, turning, faster and faster and faster, not giving you a moment to breathe. You hate yourself for what you have now, in part because you know someone out there is suffering for it, and in part because you know what your old self would have given to have what you have now- really, what your old self gave to earn a fraction of what you have now. One has to wonder if you'd even be able to sleep at night, without a lover's embrace."

Sheogorath takes another sip of his drink, his attention shifting. A shimmer of gold creeps back into his eyes.

"Strange how we're so grounded by others. One moment, we're an island unto ourselves, bracing for the storm, and the next we're sheltering in the arms of someone warm and present and arguably real. Why, I'm a god, and even I need a moment with my Husband every now and again. Such a sweet, empathetic, unremarkable, terribly mortal man, he is. And it's wonderful. Think about it, a god, a fundamental aspect of the Aurbis itself, reassured by a loving physician who is one step removed from being absolutely nothing! Isn't that absurd? Isn't that mad? Isn't that beautiful?"