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

"Oh," says Edgar, who to many intents and purposes was born in a barn, and reaches to take the offered hand. "I'm Edgar."

(His palms and fingers are callused and rough, though not so much as they used to be; about two years of relatively gentle handling, over nearly two decades' hard use.)

Bash's grip on the hand shifts, as he pulls it closer, to kiss Edgar's knuckles. His eyes glimmer with mischief. Is he this kind of dashing gentleman? Well, he pretends.

Edgar's grip slackens a little in surprise, but -- to judge by the similar glint in his own eye and the crooked smile that spreads on his face -- not in displeasure.

A touch lower: "Oh it's like that, is it?"

"Oh, only if you want it to be."

Duplicity left him with a very loud need for consent from partners, a need for them to be enjoying it on all levels, rather than just the physical. But it is so, so easy to slip into the role of dark, seductive stranger. Only question remaining is if Edgar wants him to be the Dominant he was assigned to be, too. He's practiced in that role. So very practiced.

"I mean." That smile widens, still a touch crooked. "Wouldn't say I'm not interested, definitely wouldn't say that ..."

Aimnhian, in turn, left Edgar far more open to the prospect of quick hookups with strangers -- something that wasn't available during his life on the train, due to everyone already knowing everyone else. And this particular stranger is, to be honest, kind of fuckin gorgeous.

(And if there's anything not entirely comfortable underlying his appeal, Edgar misses it for the moment.)

Bash leans in, the scent of tobacco and coffee thick in the air. “Double negative, I think they call that. Sounds a little uncertain, still, darling. Tell me what you want right now.”

Or maybe that’s tell me what you want, right now. The difference is slight enough to be non-existent.

Oh, that's -- oh. Edgar's encountered that energy before, and is far from immune to it; what he wants right now is maybe a little different from what he wanted a moment or two ago.

He takes another sip of coffee, mouth unaccountably dry. (It smells like the stranger's scent, and he finds himself wondering whether his mouth tastes like this, and that's enough to make him need a second swallow.)

"Right now," he says, and a good deal of the insouciance has gone out of his tone but not all of it, "how about a little more conversation, and then maybe see what comes out of that?"

That's enough to pull him back, too. Bash relaxes a little, leaning on the counter.

"Sure thing. You, uh. Been here long? I mean, not too long, weren't here yet when I left, I suppose, but...you know what I mean."

"Yeah, only been here maybe a month, two months, something like that ..."

He pauses, blinks. "Left?"

"Not willingly. Well, kinda, it's a long story. I didn't go home, if that's what you're asking. I went into the Nothing. Maybe. Kinda. Don't ask."

C'mon, Edgar. You know how jamjars work.

He doesn't really though!

"So not, like, another world. A different one."

Bash hesitates. “That’s a very specific question to ask, huh?”

The very idea of being thrown back to Duplicity wrenches an involuntary shudder out of him.

"It's just I been to two other worlds before I got here, and ... you know, just wondered."

TEST DRIVE MEME #10

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