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TEST DRIVE MEME #3
1. you're the only one you owe (GUEST STARRING:
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selenokinesis and creepyoldguy)[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 Passengers(s),
You'll be unable to leave your cabin until you read this note. Congratulations on making it past the first step. Keep reading if you wish, as I have information to share with you, as a fellow passenger stuck aboard this ship. Or don't continue reading, and burn the note. I'm not particularly invested either way, especially if you choose to throw away valuable warnings.
Watch out for the Captain.
Be cautious what you sign up for.
If you die, you'll come back to life eventually, though I would recommend you try not to die.
Your life is the Captain's plaything.
Do not think for one moment that someone isn't watching you.
With that aside, I am now contractually obligated to tell you the following: You will find a life jacket within your cabin's closet, and you are required to bring it with you to your assigned muster station on deck one. A companion and I will take you through the drill. If you cannot find us, look for a tall male with white hair and blue eyes and a friendly-looking man with unkept brown hair and a winning smile.
Respectfully,
Moon Master Ebalon
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 two people standing at the front of the crowd: an exhausted-looking man with white hair who seems rather displeased that he's been roped into this, and a man with a wide grin, bright green tips on his hair, and amber eyes. the latter is waving cheerfully, having an armful of leis. he quite happily puts them around people’s necks and while they’re distracted, attempts to dip them into a kiss.
as he’s basically a walking corpse, and smells like one to boot, it’s not exactly hitting the jackpot. but, he does at least listen to the word “NO”.
the tired-seeming man ignores this and announces over the drone of chattering passengers like yourself,]
Welcome to the Serena Eterna. Do try to enjoy your stay here; it is rather permanent in nature, huhu.
[and from next to his companion, the… er, overly-affectionate man who sounds as though he smokes ten packs a day rasps,]
You’re all doomed!
[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.
after the duo complete the drill, you'll find that your legs suddenly obey your command, for what that's worth.
welcome aboard, passenger. we hope you enjoy your stay.]
2. one by one they'll do you in
[it starts, as most things do, with a table lamp. floating down a hallway, or the length of the promenade. ambling at a distinct clip: one-two-three-KICK, one-two-three-KICK.
and that's... not immediately concerning. after all, things float around here all the time; usually plates and drinks, but maybe the shades want to mix it up a bit. the lamp is alone for about a half hour before it is joined by others. a pillow. some knickknack from the ship store. Friday's clipboard. an empty vodka bottle. all have lined up, one in front of the other, and lead a procession snaking around the ship, growing with each passing hour. anyone familiar with the concept would begin to recognize it as a massive conga line.
there is a small chance you will want to join of your own free will. most likely, you will not want that. this does not matter: something compels you, like pins and needles in your feet, to join the dance. and once you have joined in... your body fights your mind on the subject, even as it grows more and more tired.
you pass by a familiar face. they could help pull you out. or you could pull them in.]
3. the price of vice foretold
[the scent of citrus and coconut rum hangs heavy in the air. there is a new storefront on the promenade, tucked between Sand Dollars and John's in a place where you are very certain there was not enough space to tuck a store before.
the clothes for sale are... a lot. like, a lot a lot. but, there are quite a lot of choices, though they do seem to repeat a little, once you've gone in far enough. in fact, even if you actively attempt to find it, you can't seem to find the back of the store. you can see a wall, sure, but it never seems to get any closer, even as you walk towards it.
be forewarned: the infinite tommy bahama does not have food or water.]
arrival!
He cannot believe someone actually kissed Beetlejuice back. By Henir—
There's a moment where Ebalon just sort of... stares at this scene, looking dumbfounded more than anything. Where he was otherwise unconcerned with the antics, now he's just baffled.]
...no, it is not. Usually one of the ship's staff members... ah, sorry, the only staff member aboard performs this little charade, so you seem to be... lucky?
no subject
Oh? What a relief. And here I thought I'd have to be warding off kisses and flowers every time anyone said hello.
[ Is he kidding? He's probably kidding. He's smiling like he's kidding, at least. ]
So why the personalized touch, then? Not that I'm complaining of course.
no subject
[And Ebalon said yes and regrets saying yes but he thinks it might get him brownie points with one (1) person, so that's all that matters, he feels. Kind of. He's still bitchy about this whole thing.
On the plus side, he managed to warn new people with a note about this place, so. That's... good.]
I think you'll find that many people here are not so willing to kiss a stranger, myself included. I'm not sure if you should consider this a boon or not — I'll leave it up to you.
no subject
[ Actually, he's quite relieved he won't have to be dodging overenthusiastic displays of affection during his stay here - as hilarious and, uh, unique as that awful smooch had been, he's fine with no repeat performances, thank you. Shock value only works well to get a reaction the first time, after all. ]
Is that so? You and your...companion must be quite the reliable fellows then. [ He glances at the maniacal kissing corpse, back at the much calmer man in front of him, recalls the wording of the letter he'd found, and comes to a swift conclusion. ] I'm guessing you're Master Ebalon?
no subject
[Or was it a lucky guess? Regardless, Ebalon offers a cordial half-bow, hand resting upon his chest.]
"Master" is a title of formality, and though I've signed the letter with such, you may refer to me simply by my name if you wish. Over-the-top formality comes with the role.
[He's been signing formal letters with "Master Ebalon" for ten or so years now, so his hand just sort of... moves.]
May I ask you for your name?
no subject
I know it's terrible to make assumptions, but your companion strikes me as someone who would...probably use a few more exclamation points, for one thing.
[ The letter had mentioned the writer would be one of the guides, after all...and also carried a distinct lack of corpse smell. Not exactly a deduction one needed to be a master detective to conclude. ]
A pleasure, Ebalon. I'm Kaeya - no need for any formalties with me, I'm much more a by-your-leave sort of guy.
no subject
[Or that's the hope, anyway. There could be other people who could use a lightbulb change, and if there are, he hasn't spoken with them or had the... honour? of working with them.]
That being said, I have been here for several months, so if you do have any pressing questions about the ship itself, I can provide answers. That is the hope, anyhow.
no subject
[ Is he including himself in this cateogry? Who knows! Everything about Kaeya, from his ostentatious fashion to his easygoing posture to the way he smooched a walking corpse with zero hesitation seems to scream that he'd rather goof off than focus on any issues more important than where his next drink is coming from. On the other hand, his eye sharpens with interest when Eladon offers answers, so maybe not all hope's lost. ]
Then I hope you forgive me for occupying more of your time. For one thing, no one's explained why we're on this ship or what the captain wants from us. I appreciate a vacation as much as anyone, but usually it's considered polite to at least send an invitation first.
no subject
[But at that, he simply shakes his head, because there's no true answer he can give.]
I do not know why we're here. For the most part, life here can be particularly peaceful. There are moments of... [hm.] ...catastrophic events, but they seem few and far between. The Captain pulls many people from different worlds, and so far I have not ascertained the purpose of such, nor have others. He rarely, however, makes an appearance, and answers are not so easily given.
My hypothesis thus far is that all of us brought here have some "purpose" to serve. To what end, I know not.