sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #3

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TEST DRIVE MEME #3

1. you're the only one you owe (GUEST STARRING: 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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Khaki would be preferable, yes. It matches his c--

[But speaking of someone who, as far as he knows, isn't here...Feels a little wrong. So Dimos rolls one shoulder noncommittally instead, gaze sliding from a particularly bright polo towards Maximilien instead.

How strange. Another model, completely different from his own make. The purpose is hard to define by looks alone, uniform nondescript and functionless...He tilts his head a little, causing one hat to fall to the ground.]

Is it truly an improvement on anything, this sort of clothing? I fail to see the benefit in any weather. The sleeves are too short to shield from the sun, the cloth too thin to be of use in the cold. The patterns are garish, obvious. Is it...

Self-expression? [His eyes flick over that gorgeous suit. It'd be pointed, if only Dimos were capable of sarcasm.]

It's not supposed to be practical. That's generally not the use of leisure wear. Though maybe the purpose of this is to be hideous enough to warn people away with the colors and patterns.

[He's not a fan of this horrible Florida retiree aesthetic.]

Additionally, you are wearing three hats, is that supposedly practical?

I see. Danger, instead of disguise. Not as impractical as first thought, but still not what is required. As for the hats, I do not have to use my hands to transport them, thus I am able to carry multiple about with minimal stress. Is this not practical?

[He is absolutely going to give three straw hats to his human, should he ever arrive; he's small, pale, and far too sickly to risk sun exposure, and straw also seems a poor material for long-term use.

(New things are hard to come by, anyway. Three is just the right number, as far as Dimos is concerned.)]

Is there a better way to carry straw hats that doesn't involve destroying them? And would you like one? You are unprotected from the elements, and you will tarnish.

No it's..

[A sigh, purposeful since he doesn't need to breathe. You're killing him Dimos.]

Nevermind, it's not important, and no I most certainly do not need a hat - and I'm not going to tarnish, it's a tungsten coating, it doesn't do that.

What precisely are you looking for?

[If not by asphyxiation, then exasperation. It's a wonder he hasn't invoked this reaction in more, but then-- humans seem charmed by the rudimentary bot thing. It's a little more fair to be seen as a relic alone by someone he's far surpassed by.

This, of course, does not occur to him. He merely inclines his head (stopping just shy of upsetting his hats), and turns his gaze back to the shirts. Tungsten makes sense, after all. There's no point in questioning why Maximilien lacks a human plating, if he doesn't have to fear damage from the weather.]

Clothing for a mid-to-late-adolescent male. Warm clothing, or that which would protect him from the sun, would be ideal. However, I could likely use these for rags, or assemble them into a rudimentary blanket.

The clothing would be preferred. He has not had new clothing for months, and to not take advantage of abundant resources would be foolish. --He would look better, dressed as you are. I have not seen such things on the racks, however.

No, we don't have anything like what I'm wearing here. In fact we didn't have this place either until I requested additional clothing options.

[He reaches out to rub a synthetic woven polo shirt between his fingers.]

I think I'm being punished for that.

[He hates this place so much, and the infinite horrible island clothing has not done anything to improve his mood.]

Someone who arrived with you? Or someone here? There are blankets in the rooms should they need it.

I see. You did not specify the options you desired.

[If new clothing is a punishment, anyway. But-- Ah, Dimos stiffens a little and jostles the rack accidentally, the milky green of his eyes turning a few shades warmer. His human...

It's strange, to not be with him. They've been constant companions for months solid, and very few of Dimos' memories don't involve Rion by this stage. So to think that he's not actually here, instead of just being somewhere safe (same thing, not that he knows that)...]

He is not here, that I am aware of.

However, I will not let abundant resource go to waste. When I return to him, I will have new clothing for him. I will be able to repurpose whatever he will not wear. This is not something I have been able to do for months. ...If you have a pattern, I may be able to repurpose this material into a suitcoat. [Dimos can make a bed, complete with pillow and thin blanket? Dimos can probably do rudimentary sewing. Why? I don't know.]

I didn't think I had to. I'm well aware now that I need to be far more specific.

[Wow just call him out like that. ]

That's likely for the best - being here is horrible in a lot of ways. It's good to plan for all possibilities, but I doubt you'll be able to leave in a timely manner. No one else has been able to.

[Watching someone shop for a person who isn't here is extremely odd to Max ~~and absolutely heartbreaking to me~~. He watches Dimos flip through the racks for a bit before continuing.]

I take it you are from somewhere with limited resources? Many others have told me the same.

[Ah, now that's a revelation worthy of real reaction; his eyes flicker solidly into amber now, fist clenching around a wad of polo shirts and head whipping towards-- where the entrance had been when he first came in. He knows it was. He does not get lost, not physically.] ...This is not ideal. I am needed. I am needed, and I cannot waste time. We do not have time. I do not care what happens to me, but I am needed where I came from. This cannot last.

I must return. With whatever resources I can find. This cannot--

[Okay, enough talk. He looks back at Max for a moment, eyes searching his face as though there might be some secret way home writ upon it, before inclining his head a little.] You have been punished for requesting clothing. Am I being punished as well, with no exit route? Or is this for you as well? I need an exit. I must return.

[He takes a step away from the intensity of that look, and from the sudden change in mood. Its subtle but Max is picking up on the fact that Dimos is needed elsewhere.]

You may be needed but I hardly think the Captain cares. We've all been stolen from our worlds, were you not made aware of that?

And I don't think being here is a punishment it seems to be random chance. Why? Is there something you feel warrants punishment?

Where is the Captain?

[We're skipping right to the last stage of traffic light eyes, apparently. Dimos had--

He'd been operating under the vague assumption that return to Rion was, at some point, possible. If he could walk far enough, swim far enough, find a lifeboat or some sort of spell, then he would be back by nightfall. It's just-- not something that's occurred to him, to be separated against his will. How has this happened? He doesn't remember an attack, or shutting down for maintenance, anything that would allow for him to be stolen away. Everything under his skin is boiling hot, almost literally enough to have steam venting from his tear ducts, and he's shaking with what more advanced beings would identify as rage.]

I will kill him. I will find my way out of here, and I will kill him. And I will return. You should not be lost in here, either. [At last, even though he's still rattling minutely away like a model steam train, he stretches out a hand towards Max. No man left behind.]

Currently? Probably in his cabin - but as far as I know he doesn't entertain visitors. He seems to be rather --

[Uhm. Okay Dimos you seem to be currently on fire maybe? Or at least overheating. The rage is definitely coming through and so is the actual steam which is a pretty impressive looking show of being pissed the fuck off.

And now Max is being grabbed. Yep he's being grabbed and they're heading out of the Tommy Bahama. Sure, that might as well happen.]

I do wish you luck killing him but no one else has been able to so far. Perhaps you should take stock of the situation first? For instance do you have any weapons?

[Dimos stops.

Looks at Max.

Then looks at his own right thigh, covered in holsters; one for his revolver, and two sheathed hunting knives.

Then back at Max. The steaming has subsided, if only out of pure confusion.]

I have weaponry enough. If I cannot kill him, then he cannot be killed. But-- you are correct. I do not have enough research on him to know where to strike, if he has survived all previous attempts.

[Although he doesn't let go, his grip slackens just a little, eyes slowly gradating back to that harmless milky green. How...How strange. That he almost stormed off without a logical course of action. That everything ran so hot that it risked his finer structures for a moment.]

...My apologies for manhandling you. I will stay my course for now, though we should still find an exit. If you would like to.

[So far no one he knows has shown up with ammo in their guns so his assumption is that everyone is walking around with unloaded guns that are just for show. But his ulterior motive has been accomplished which is to get the steaming to stop and get Dimos out of the store. The foliage print is clearly affecting him.]

For example someone stabbed him in the head, and his skull simply cracked open while he himself was unharmed and continued talking as if nothing had happened.

[What's left unsaid is that the inside of his skull was some horrible black abyssal void.]

We should definitely leave this place, aside from the garishness of the patterns, there's something wrong here. I don't know what it is but... it's unsettling.

[He squints down towards the back wall which he swears was closer just a few moments ago. That.. can't be right can it?]

Come, let's not be here any longer.

[If Dimos doesn't stop him then Max is going to lead them away to the exit and the safety of non Tommy Bahama places.]

[What, no one else has bullet...Holders on their belts, like Dimos does? (Something I just discovered. Thanks, concept art.) A grand oversight on their part, but maybe not on the Captain's.

Still, if a blow enough to crack open the skull has been landed, and no ill effect has been observed...It really would behove him to observe more, to learn from those who have been here longer. Dimos nods aimlessly, follows Max without really taking anything in (and maybe that's the trick to escape, not thinking too hard about it). He only pipes back up once they hit fresh air again, or at least air with less ambient shirt fibres.]

Unsettling seems to be quite normal, all things considered. I will note this, and endeavour to not let this uncertainty cloud my judgment in the future.

[He pauses, then looks at the shirts still draped over his arms.] ...I did not have money on me, but I also did not intend to steal. Will this impact negatively on you, being accomplice to my accidental theft?

[Bandages and bandoliers are not the outfits of choice for most of the people in his world. Clearly they're lacking in fashion sense. ]

Well do not be so hard on yourself, you have only just arrived and immediately were deceived by this place that has the nerve to call itself a clothing store.

[Gesturing at the Tommy Bahama. If he could fight a store he would stab this one in the face.

But then he just.. blinks.]

Accomplice? To...

[Okay that is hysterical. He laughs, soft and musical but genuine. No one has ever cared about his reputation before. A reputation so poor that petty theft might actually improve it somewhat. This might be the best thing to happen to him this week, he hasn't laughed in a long time.]

No, no. It is fine. Everything here is free - you've not stolen anything. But your concern is noted.

And appreciated.

[There's a definite pause before he speaks, eyes flaring gently at Max's laughter. Not just at the fact that he can do it, but at how pleasant it sounds, how it sends a warm flare up in the same part of his chest that Rion's laugh also lights up. How often can he claim to have caused laughter, after all?

Dimos tips his head a little, nearly throwing one of the straw hats off. Once it's righted, he rolls his shoulders in a casual shrug and starts trying to jam the shirts through his belt, in lieu of a pack. Very fashionable, perhaps.]

...This is good. I do not wish to cause chaos or distress to anyone capable of it. And you have been helpful, so to return this with trouble would be...

Wrong, I believe.

[Now that they're free, however, he has a whole ship to resume exploring, and he has every reason to believe that exploration is a worthy cause. Just-- it feels wrong, somehow, to just leave his distant kinsman here without any further ado.] What will you do, now that you do not have to face the punishment of thin, poorly-stitched clothing? Is there a place that you prefer to frequent onboard? That accepts us?

No, you haven't done anything wrong, do not concern yourself with such.

[The way everything is phrased is just delighting Max. He genuinely likes you Dimos.]

Free from the clutches of that store, I'm planning on returning to my cabin. But everywhere will accept you - you need not worry. Everything is accessible, and all the shops restock should you need anything.

Are you normally not accepted?

[Because he totally feels that.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEST DRIVE MEME #3

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Okay thats fine. I didn't need my heart.

i'd apologise but also: if i ain't breaking hearts am i doing dimos right??

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I adore you for this.

it's mutual because my dumb ass just learned what a bandolier is thanks to you omf

I am a helper.