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

Where I'm from, only 'bots, specifically cyborgs, have governor modules. Because we're dangerous, you know. Might go rogue and kill people, if we didn't have them. That'd be horrible, of course.

[It shakes its head.]

Mine isn't active anymore. Hasn't been for over 40,000 hours. But I know why I had one. You shouldn't have.

...Yours isn't active anymore? You haven't, uh, gone rogue, right?

[Now it's Rich's turn to go pale, as he looks over the cyborg before him. There is no way he can take it in a fight. It seems to at least be rational enough to know killing people is wrong, but... well, that didn't stop the SQUIP from going power-hungry, did it?]

Like, I agree I shouldn't have one, but it's in my head now, so we can't really get it out safely.

[Please don't laser his head off or something!]

I am a rogue by definition. But I'm not going to hurt you without a good reason to. Are you planning on giving me a reason?

[Its gaze lifts to meet Rich's for just a moment before flickering away.]

[Well, that's not great. Almost immediately, Rich's face flickers with anger and panic, and he takes a few steps back, feeling very much cornered all of a sudden.]

What the fuck? No, I'm not planning on that! I'm one kid from Jersey, what kind of shit do you think I could really accomplish? You're the one with the advanced AI and the grip that's probably literally a steel vise!

[Murderbot steps backward as well, giving Rich a little space and trying to seem just a tiny bit less threatening.]

I don't know where Jersey is.

...Okay, so your world is weird, then. Whatever. It's a state in a country that apparently doesn't exist anymore for you, and honestly, good riddance. The point is I'm not going to be a threat. I'm not a huge bully anymore, and with the SQUIP off, I'm down to my straight-D student IQ. So I don't think you've gotta worry about me.

[And he'd much rather not be monitored to see if that's the case.]

Was Jersey on Earth? I've never been to Earth.

[Look, the threat conversation's over and instead the cyborg's curious about the time and space Rich comes from.]

Yeah. In North America, in the United States. Were you, uh, not built by humans? Because you sure look like one. Unless we're all living on space colonies, which seems way far off in my time. Right now it's just being used for billionaires to take joyrides.

Yeah, I'm from when humans are living in space colonies, after Earth was overpopulated and resources were depleted.

Huh. So if your world was even adjacent to mine, you're at least a few hundred years in the future. I'm impressed even some of us managed to escape the heat death of the planet. What're the colonies like?

Mostly, I know what life is like in the Corporate Rim. That's where I was manufactured, and where I've spent most of my time working.

[And the implications of the phrase 'corporate rim' are exactly as awful as one might expect.]

It's great if you have money. Money buys freedom and power. If you don't have money, you don't have either of those, and probably are all but owned by one of the corporations. Oh, they call them labor contracts, but when you're paying for food, drink, sleeping space and air with the money they pay you...

...That sounds really gross. But also exactly what I expected. Fuckin' rich people. Even space can't be cool once they get their grubby little paws on it.

[He wrinkles his nose, just dwelling on the idea of the labour contracts.]

Like, I know wage slavery is basically a thing in my time, but the idea of being literally owned by a company is so nasty. This kind of shit is why I got fired from Sbarro's, though. I'm way too much of an anarchist to play nice with companies.

There are non-corporate polities out there. Like the Preservation Alliance--they formed from a bunch of colonies that were abandoned for not being profitable. People decided they didn't want to die, go figure, and banded together.

I've never been there, though. I was leased by one of their survey teams, once. It was...different.

That sounds pretty cool... even if it's still born out of billionaires being assholes. If I'd want to live anywhere in space, I'd definitely prefer the Preservation Alliance over anywhere else. How was it different, though?

The team...figured out that I'm a rogue, and then offered to bring me home with them. In the Preservation Alliance, bots are free. Ish. They still need a guardian to vouch for them.

[It rolls its eyes.]

Isn't that just an owner who pretends to be nice to you, though?

I mean, I'm not sure how it'd be for a robot... I think there's a little bit of a difference there, but it's probably complicated. I don't know, I guess I'd just take the kindness over having everything totally controlled.

[Maybe if the SQUIP had just been a 'guardian' and just offered advice without interfering when Rich was going to choose differently... maybe that would have worked out. He considers it with a bit of a frown.]

TEST DRIVE MEME #3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject