sail_ooc | 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

It's all fiction, so hopefully you're into that. But the interesting thing is that it's all from different worlds, so there's a lot of stuff you might not be familiar with. I've been working my way through some of the science fiction and fantasy.

[She looks along the shelves, which are in no apparent order. People have tried to put them in order, but the library becomes chaotic again the moment someone turns their back.]

There was a series I started about dancers being sent to communicate with aliens that had a language based in movement, but I don't see the first book here...

That's not so bad. Non-fiction is boring anyway. Though, non-fiction from other worlds would be pretty cool.

[ She sets her journal on a table near her, rising to come look at the stacks as well. ]

Do you remember the name? Maybe I can help you find it.

I think it was called 'Stardance'? It was a paperback book, like an old one with yellowing pages.

[Undine drags her finger along the spines on the shelf.]

The captain thinks non-fiction is boring too. That's why he doesn't have any here. Or a least, that's what he said.

Stardance? Sounds pretty interesting.

[ She moves to start checking another row, gently pulling even one out partially before pushing it back in. ]

You've talked to him? Given the note, I kind of thought he'd stay all mysterious.

He showed up at a fancy formal dinner a while ago, to rub his power in everyone's faces. Some people tried to attack him and he demonstrated how much power over everyone he has. It was...pretty not cool, you know?

[She pauses, looking over her shoulder at Alex.]

He killed Friday, which is why she didn't do your muster drill.

...Level with me for a minute.

[ Because she can't focus on the books after that. ]

How dangerous is us being here?

[Undine's emotional response is a deep misery mingled with resignation. There's no good news here, not at all.]

Well. The good news is that if you die, you're brought back the next morning. You just have to...you know. Deal with the memory of dying. And seeing whoever killed you around the ship.

...It's dangerous. It's not good, and we just...all we can do is deal with it, really.

[ Sadness, anguish, despair. Without fail, it's always blue. It radiates around Undine as an aura, as vibrant as her hair, and Alex has to take a few steps to the side to keep it from overwhelming her. ]

Do people kill each other often?

There was a shore expedition--we were all told it'd be a camping trip. When we got to the island, we were told it was a three day battle royale instead. We were all given weapons and told whoever survived the longest would be the winner.

Beside that, there's been other deaths. When the storm goddess pirate attacked the ship. People have fought and hurt and killed each other. Some might say it doesn't matter, because we come back, but...

[But she knows better.]

[ Suddenly, the misery makes more sense than ever. She doesn't have words for the pit that creates in her stomach.

What kind of fucked up place is this? ]

And we can't leave, or refuse?

You can try to refuse--not sign up for shore excursions or whatever, but. No, we can't leave.

Um. Sorry. I know it's not nice to hear about.

I appreciate it. Really. Better that I know now, right?

[ Still, it sounds awful. ]

But we were looking for your book, right? Why don't we focus on that?

[ It's the only thing she can thing of to soothe away that overwhelming blue. ]

I'm Alex, by the way.

Undine. Nice to meet you. [It rhymes with 'green' rather than with 'twine'.

Looking for the book does help a little, though, a distraction from what-all has been going on.]

There's a good few of us teenagers around, at least. So it's not lonely, and it never feels like we're left out or at the 'kids table'.

Oh.

[ She smiles apologetically, fingers tapping on the spine of a book. ]

I'm 21, actually. I'm genuinely flattered you thought I was a teenager, though.

Oh, so I can bug you to get drinks for me?

[She’s definitely mostly joking there. Mostly.]

That depends. How close to 21 are you, and how close are people paying attention?

[ Thought if it really sucks as bad as it sounds, even the teens are going to deserve a drink, huh... ]

I'm fourteen. And...that's a really good question. People pay attention to the louder, wilder, more outspoken teenagers a lot. Like Jinx and Clarke and Darcy. I think I sort of fly under the radar most of the time, compared to them.

I'll make you a deal. You don't tell anyone I did it, and the next time something terrible happens, I'll sneak you a cup of wine.

[ They have wine in churches, right? Gabe used to drink worse at 14.

She can be a cool big sis!!! ]

Of course I won't tell anyone. But, hopefully we have a little while before the next something terrible. Hopefully.

[She doubts it, but like. Who even knows?]

How often do terrible things happen?

[ Someone up top had told her they'd been here three months. That was a lot of time to shove in battle royales and whatever else. ]

Well, there's different levels of terrible. I mean, the battle royale's only happened once, but there's also been 'everyone locked into one room for a party and forced to make small that', which is also not a good time.

...I know the other options have the possibility of dying, but... The small talk might be worse, actually.

TEST DRIVE MEME #3

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