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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.]
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Yeah? Um. Who, uh, who here taught you the words for it here?
[Basically, who can he trust with all these struggles he's been dealing with since freshman year?]
I... I knew for a while, but I was scared too, of how it felt. I was pretty sure something about it was wrong, you know? That I was just confused... didn't help there was no one I could trust to talk about it. My brother gave me some hand me downs before I started high school... but I was mainly in baggy hoodies and oversized pants until I was a sophomore.
...But I made a lot of changes that year. [And though he's grateful in some ways the change was quick, he feels... a bit unsure with where he stands now. Is this really the kind of guy he wanted to be? Talking about it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. It's a wonder he's even been able to navigate this conversation with a near stranger.]
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For me...my parents disowned me, and I had to build myself a life, little by little. To be gay, that's hardly notable where I'm from, but me? That's not something my parents could accept. But I've taken time. Figured out clothing, mannerisms, how to talk, all by observing and picking up how men do things.
[He lets out a heavy sigh.]
I started smoking to make my voice huskier. Even, even had surgery, to remove my breasts. I'm sure if my mother heard about that, she'd shriek about me mutilating myself, but it's been over a decade since I've reached out to her.
Point is, you're not alone here, alright? César and our other partner, my roommate, Watson--they're so gracious and accepting. Hell, Watson's reaction the first time I was having monthly pains was absolutely precious. He goes out and gets me pads and tampons and Midol and chocolate, and asks gentle questions and then stops asking questions at all.
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And then it turned out bad, but oh well!He winces a bit at the mention of parents.]
Yeah, well... even in my time, it can be tough to build yourself up. My dad... when he finds out this isn't just a weird fashion change, he isn't going to be happy. My brother's cool with it, but he's moved for college... so I'm figuring out a lot of stuff on my own too. Haven't had surgery, but... damn, I'm betting they don't have any T shots here, huh?
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[Someone hasn't yet gotten some of the deeper education about modern transness.]
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[But the idea of injections that would change his body, that's something he'd have to bring up to his lovers at some point.]
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[Sorry, Johnny. He's just a bit distracted now.] Ha! And people say there weren't trans guys around a hundred years ago.
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[Maybe things were changing... but he had a lot of work to do to get a bit of respect.]
Love was kinda out of the question, you know.