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]

“Hey, you.” Bash lifts a hand in a loose wave that encompasses ‘yeah it’s me’ and ‘c’mon in’ and ‘nothing ever really changes and you can feel depressed about this or you can feel warmth and right now I’m feeling both at full volume’.

[pineapplesalmon]

"So, got any coffee?" It's a joke about making the obvious joke, being entirely aware of how lame it is, and he gives off a little laugh about it. "Someone should let you know.. things restock monthly now, not daily. It's good to see you."

[midnightroads]

"I got coffee. How high-octane do you want it right now?" There's a lazy smile on Bash's face. As in, he's being lazy about maintaining it.

[pineapplesalmon]

"Reasonably strong." César grins. "Could use a pick me up, but I don't want to be vibrating."

[midnightroads]

"Got time for me to make a fresh drip coffee? We're skipping past espresso now."

Given a puzzle to think about, what to make a scientist to drink without making him one of those wind-up chattering teeth toys, he seems to focus more.

[pineapplesalmon]

César can see the wheels turning and that makes him smile as he takes a seat on a stool. "I do."

[midnightroads]

"Alright, I got you." And he gets to work quietly, humming as he goes, pausing only once there's a need to gather more information. "Sweet, creamy and/or flavored?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"... huh. I really don't know." César huffs and looks annoyed at himself. "It's been forever since I've bothered with anything besides coffee coffee. Something different would be nice, but I can also tell my brain is going to decide to be... difficult about figuring out what I want."

[midnightroads]

"Alright. Then just put your trust in me."

What he eventually places in front of César is absolutely not a pumpkin spiced latte. But it's a creamy coffee with warm autumn spices.

[pineapplesalmon]

César opens his mouth to almost say no, his brain is going to be really picky, but then he closes it and... just gives a shrug and buries the momentary improper irritation (why, brain, are you getting irritated about this? It'll be fine!).

"Okay. Okay, I will. I just apologize if my brain decides to be ornery about this."

He almost looks relieved when he picks up the coffee and smells it, knowing it's too hot to drink still. "... okay. It likes this. I think it just thought it was going to be picky?"

SHRUG.

[midnightroads]

"Brains, man. You know mine won't even let me read right, write?" Erm, read right, right? "Glad you like it, though."

[pineapplesalmon]

"That's rather rude of it." Said with full force of meaning every word; then, César remembers, face lighting up as he snaps his fingers to cool the drink. "Right! Prestidigitation."

He's tempted to go in and ask questions about why Bash can't read, but that's rude. That's not the subject, now. Their current conversation is revolving around coffee, with Bash being in his element.

César takes a sip and closes his eyes. "... okay, yes, this is good. "

[midnightroads]

“Like you don’t know how fucking rude brains can get.” Bash snickers, leaning forward on the counter a bit, watching César’s reaction to that. “But yeah, it’s the season for spiced coffee. Peppermint mocha soon after.”

[pineapplesalmon]

"I've got some idea, unfortunately. It's been trained to be more polite again." Two gentleman husbands were critical to that. "I need to do more flavored coffees. That... sounds lovely."

[midnightroads]

"Well, you know exactly where to find me, don'tcha? I'll spoil you with all the flavors I can. Maybe conspire with your bartender boo to learn your favorites."

That is a threat.

[pineapplesalmon]

César laughs in delight and takes another sip, taking a moment to enjoy it before replying. "That's a threat you better be willing to carry out. I... could honestly use my horizons opened. I've rarely had flavored coffee. It's a whole new world."

[midnightroads]

"Well, it's all about balancing the acidity properly, right? How much do you lean into the fruitiness of coffee, how much do you play with the bitter notes. It plays in the same way as wine, with the tannins and shit. People who absolutely can't stand black coffee are often tannin-sensitive, but the cream or milk binds to it--the proteins and shit, which makes it more drinkable for a lot of folks."

This is a guy who considers himself stupid. But that's sure well-researched thoughts out there.

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks rather impressed, then chuckles in embarrassment. "... I just usually got the nice beans."

[midnightroads]

"I mean, nice beans is a start--though 'bad beans' isn't necessarily damning. Like, a lot of the reason people hate on instant coffee is because it's Coffea canephora--some people call it robusta--instead of Coffea arabica. But if you brew robusta without planning on freeze drying it, you can do some fucking amazing stuff with it. And these days, at least back on my Earth, some folks are experimenting with fucking Coffea eugenoides, right? That was the other plant bred with canephora to give us the common domestic arabica bean. But it's never been domesticated properly itself, not really."

He's gesturing as he speaks, in a way César might find familiar.

[pineapplesalmon]

César does find it familiar. He's enjoying the explanation immensely. This is definitely Bash's specialty, and he's excited to be learning something he has almost no knowledge about.

"I knew that instant coffee was a different species, but wow. I didn't know people were experimenting with it or with... Coffee eugenoides, was it? Wow. It's really too bad we don't have either here, because I'd be curious to try them."

[midnightroads]

"Yeah, me too. I've never gotten my hands on the beans. Though it's probably affected by the soil it grows in, like all the coffee is. So I'd want to get, like. Stuff from volcanic soil and non-volcanic to do comparisons."

Perhaps someday Sundries will provide.

[pineapplesalmon]

"That's too bad. Maybe someday. And I'm sure soils with different mineral compositions can affect it, too. Does altitude affect it as well like it does with tea?" César's actually quite curious.