![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
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.]
no subject
Can you tell? I was always pretty affectionate with my passengers. [Professionally so!] Everyone needs a good hug every now and then.
Of course, I suppose I'm no longer a captain.
no subject
... Oh, were you? What kind of vessel was it that you sailed?
no subject
A boat - my own. It sailed wherever I took it. But, I guess it was more of a ferry, eh?
[Whatever you call it, it was hers.]
Which is to say, I was ferrying spirits.
no subject
How do you mean? [ he asks, in a tone that is much less I don’t believe you and much more that’s curious, please clarify? ]
no subject
[Tips her hat. Partially as a pause while she ruminates on her own words. She. doesn't really have to explain who she is. Usually other people are doing that.]
I'm the Spiritfarer - Or, I was. I move spirits to whatever comes after... life, you know?
no subject
[ He shifts the way he's sitting to better face them. ] Okay, so just a heads up, this place isn't like that. How much have you been told?
no subject
Really, eh? I'll have to keep that in mind.
[Just in case.]
Well, I just got here. So far, it hasn't been that crazy... I even still have my Everlight with me. [She gestures to the glowing orb on her belt.] How different could it be?
no subject
[ Er. How's he gonna break it to them? Man, they look young... ]
This place is... not an afterlife. It's a pocket dimension. It exists nowhere.
[ Sure, let's start there. ]
It's... tame, most days, but about once a month things go sideways. This ship isn't gentle like yours seemed to be. It runs on chaos and pain. And because all of this, and us, will disappear without it, the Captain makes sure it runs. We're still working on finding a way out of here.
no subject
[Not the afterlife? Something that Stella would need to mull over later. She remains quietly contemplative.]
Well... as long as you're all doing that, maybe there's something that can be done about how the ship runs? Maybe chaos and pain doesn't have to be what keeps this place running.
[She'd like to think so.]
no subject
[ He’s keeping a careful eye on her, perceptive as he is. It’s not good news for anyone. ]
There’s a man named Skulduggery. He’s—well, he’s a passenger like us, but also the Captain’s close partner. He knows the most about how this place works and is trying to get us out of here. Don’t mind that he’s a skeleton. He lost the other bits a few centuries ago.
The other person I can think of is Ava. She’s rather ghost-like, but she’s not a ghost. She’s very kind but also cynical. She pulled on some major strings a few months back and saw it as her fault when things fell apart, even though there’s no way to tell what something’s going to do around here. So please be patient with her.
[ He sort of wants to warn her about the divide currently splitting the ship’s politics around biding their time and finding a way to escape versus those who would rather blow everything and the Captain up themselves, but… one thing at a time. ]