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

[midnightroads]

"If you see anyone who loves me, feel free to sicc as you've sicced upon yourself." Is that a dare? A self-pitying comment about being loved? who knows!

[crushed_pearls]

Erin looks directly at Bash, takes out her phone, and dictates a text.

Hey Cass love Bash is back in Sand Dollars come get his ass get the whole ass make sure your affection leaves him tragically deprived of an ass cannot stress enough that I am calling in a tactical friendship strike of such power as to blow his ass clean off ensure that Watson has to do research as to how he survived with no ass at all thanks love you.

[midnightroads]

"What the fuck, Erin." He laughs despite himself.

[crushed_pearls]

Erin picks her cup back up for a playful toast. "I'll always escalate. Now, I'd like to keep my ass, so I'm gonna scarper before Lady de Rolo unleashes her full power. Don't be a stranger."

[not_the_last]

A pause, and a text comes back in response.

I am almost sure I understood that, will be there shortly.

And indeed it's only a few minutes before Cassandra hurries in from the Promenade. "Bash?"

[midnightroads]

"Fuck. I mean, Cass! I mean..." He turns to face her, arms opening in what is undoubtedly an invitation for a hug or something.

"Hey, lady. You been?"

[not_the_last]

She doesn't hug easily, not most people -- but almost the last she saw him, he wept in her arms, and it doesn't feel right to go back to any greater reserve than that on first seeing him again. So a hug is indeed happening, swift but tight and thorough.

"I'm so glad to see you again," she says, drawing back and taking his hands, "and so sorry you're back."

[midnightroads]

"Being back's not the part to be sorry about. It's just me, no Jeff."

Half his heart is still...wherever it is. He's just the other half, now. And he's feeling a little self-destructive about it, but not with her. Not with Cass.

[not_the_last]

"Oh," and she bites her lip at the unguarded dismay in her own voice. "Oh, I am so very sorry."

[midnightroads]

"Maybe he's somewhere happier. He never did best as a caged bird, my bard." His voice quivers.

[not_the_last]

"We'll hope so," she says, and presses his hands before letting go.

The question leaping to her mind feels ... unkind, to ask at this moment. Maybe she'll ask later, when there's been time for the immediacy of the pain to dull a little.

(But she can't help asking herself, silently: were they somewhere together? Somewhere that wasn't here, in the Nothing?)

[midnightroads]

"What have I missed over here? It's October--better or worse than the last one?"

He hasn't gotten the full lowdown from anyone yet.

[not_the_last]

"... Honestly I don't know," she says with a sigh. "Things were so much worse than I knew, for most of last October. Things have been strange on board, and the excursions have changed somewhat ... I don't know what to make of it."

She'll give him a general summary, if he wants one.

[midnightroads]

"Tell me?"

He gives her a look like a kid asking for a bedtime story, so very innocent and warm.

[not_the_last]

"Of course," she says, and there's so much warmth in her voice as well.

And she gives him as much as she can call to mind of what's happened since she last saw him: the new arrivals, the further disappearances, the wedding. The Captain's announcement about the need for more deaths -- her tone takes on a careful precision there, relaying the content of his statement with a pointed lack of commentary -- the secondary ship sinking with no survivors, the visit to a realm surprisingly run by a former passenger, the recent flood of flowers with magical effects. The strange ongoing manifestation of the child-version of the Captain, called Sparkles -- this description characterized by uncertainty more than anything else.

"And of course there's been more," she finishes, "but most of that is personal and would be better told by those directly involved."

[midnightroads]

"Jesus fuck." He shakes his head, then focuses his attention back on her. "How are you handling with all the all that, then? Like, it's a shitton to figger out all at once, but I'm not sure it was any better for you over time, huh?"

[not_the_last]

"I've been ..." The pause is just a little too long, her smile a little too fragile. "Coping. I suppose. Through most of it. With varying degrees of efficacy."

A pause.

"One of the flowers shrank me to about the length of a finger for a few hours, last month," she offers, "so that was interesting."

[midnightroads]

“Yeah. I know what coping is like.” He glances off to one side. It’s October again, in the blink of an eye. Octobers hit him hard, whatever jamjar he’s in.

Right, fun subject change, don’t get too serious, too down. “Do anything fun while shrunk?”

[not_the_last]

"Well, I met a woman named Flan," she says, "who improvised a very small teacup for me, and also Erin shrank down to the same size and we went hiking on a tabletop display in the cheese shop."

How's that for not too serious?