TEST DRIVE MEME #3

[sailmods]

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.]

Comments

OPENS MY GREEDY LIL HANDS

[anbruch]

[ is it really? one should expect that diluc would have noticed him first, so perhaps that's a refreshing change in pace. he could blame the crisp, little bites of crab he has at the moment. he could also blame the dark of the bar. after all, someone has to do their job. and that someone is diluc. as usual. between picking at the delicately fried cuisine he's taken into careful consideration, he's been watching the flow of individuals to-and-from the bar. his expression a practiced neutral, he gives no real indication he's monitoring it at all. however, he's already made a running tally of who has been here longer than the newest gaggle of them. he's made a note of what the bar has in stock. and, similarly, he's also made a note of who seems to gather in groups. he's caught a few names, by the time he someone decides to come in and ruin his day.

at least, he'd like to claim. there is no such wash particularly thorny relief that floods him alongside the prickling irritation that he still feels that after all these years. if he keeps following that tail, it only gets all the more convoluted, and so his face does something muddy and complicated when his eyes land upon kaeya's face first. and then the rest. ]

Sir Kaeya. [ his tone is as flat as the sea on a calm day. there not one wave on the horizon. the corner of his mouth snags into a constipated snarl of what looks like fatigue and disgust. and maybe a little bit of something else? either way, he won't even bother to ask what the fuck he's wearing. he knows. it's hard to miss. ] Some would like to maintain order in the bar. You know just as well as I do that free samples don't deter inflated expectations.

[ he knows he's worked those shifts with the newest harvest with him. he knows. but, he's letting kaeya off with bone-deep sigh in the meantime and reaching for his similarly colored abomination. at least his only contains juice. ]

I see you've had no trouble kicking up your feet and becoming one of the locals.

[icespy]

[ ah, there it is. he watches diluc's expression contort as if biting into a particularly nasty piece of crab, every furrow on his face visible even in the dim lighting, and feels the lovely warm glow of a job well done. they may be trapped on a ghost ship for who knows what nefarious intentions, surrounded by people and technology far away from anything they've ever known, with no clue as to when or how they'll manage to get back home - but as long as he can still get under diluc's skin like an incredibly annoying stinging nettle, all is temporarily right with the world. totally worth the hideous excuse for clothing he's wearing.

well, for now, anyway. he's definitely going to have to make some excuse to go chance in the next few minutes, he can already feel the crimes against fashion burning his skin. ]

Ah, but they do make people happier, and isn't seeing the bright and joyous smiles on your customers' faces what bartending's all about? You could do with a smile of your own once in a while, you know.

[ he leans back in his seat and lifts his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, looking for all the world absolutely delighted by this definitely spontaneous not at all planned on meeting - but a sharp observer may notice how this position gives his eye a better angle to anything happening behind diluc's back, or how he too subconsciously shifts so that he's not directly blocking the other's line of sight. old habits are hard to break, and for all that they've both tried to leave behind whatever bonds once tied them together, this one still remains engraved in the memory of his muscles and the brittle of his bones; no matter the time that passes or the bridges they've burned, there is still no threat so dangerous than the two of them working together as one. ]

And I see you're still as stiff as ever. What's wrong with a little mingling here and there?

[anbruch]

[ he could prattle on about how the economy isn't powered by the smiling faces of drunkards like him, but wouldn't that be giving kaeya what he so desperately wants? little slivers of attention in the form of his irritation, all the negative aspects shoved eagerly aside to sup on, delighted by the breadth of his discomforts. and once he'd finished, he'd preen and fan his feathers. ostentatious in all that he does, diluc would like to say, but he knows. at least, he once did.

it isn't a comfort that he'd like to think too much on, entering this same feint and parry. it doesn't warm him from the inside. it doesn't knock at all some of the tension out of his shoulders, but there might be something in the tilt of his head. minute as it is to the accommodating way that kaeya instinctually gives over the space to observe to him. and that too, is perhaps why diluc considers the glass in kaeya's hand. keeps count by adding, subtracting the approximate way that he leans and the way he shucks on an act.

truly, there are none who are as dangerous as they two when there are common goals to consider. no matter how small it is. ]

It isn't. [ for all that musing and recall, the cut of diluc's stare inevitably comes flat. it's still more than he should give kaeya, but here he is. he tells himself every time. ]

Besides, isn't mingling on the clock your line of business? [ slacker. diluc picks up his juice and takes a idle sip. it's about half-full, compared to the destruction he's brought from the buffet. ] I'll leave the idle chit-chat to you.

[icespy]

[ perhaps the most devastating insult anyone could throw at kaeya would be to call him predictable - so it's probably a good thing he can't actually read diluc's mind as he starts preening under that unamused stare right on schedule. hey, attention is attention, and kaeya thrives off being at the center of it regardless of the type. truth be told, he's more comfortable basking under the harsh fire of diluc's clear disdain than he ever had been when there had only been delighted warmth reflected in those far too wide eyes, an admiration over the lies he'd so carefully concocted that he could never fully accept. at least the disdain is real.

...and that's enough of that line of thought. he takes a sip of his multicolored monstrosity in a futile attempt to replace introspection with alcohol, barely managing to avoid making a face at the taste. ugh, what is that, banana? casually, he sneaks a hand out to try to steal one of the fried bites off diluc's plate so he can wash away the lingering blech in his mouth. ]

Ah, but I'm not on the clock, am I? And neither are you. Not much work for either of us without either the city or the winery, so why not relax? You might even enjoy yourself once you get that stick out your ass.

[ a lie, and they both know it. no matter how far away from mondstadt they are, there's never really a vacation for either of them. ]

[anbruch]

Isn't that what you've already been doing? Relaxing?

[ to diluc, he's absurdly predictable in that he wants everyone to think he's predictable. he knows kaeya's mind runs contrary to what anyone and anything might expect, but hadn't he learned that the hard way too? all of his life, he'd been foolish enough to think he knew. he'd been foolish enough to assume that kaeya should long to be the stretch of his shadow, that he'd fit against diluc as though he'd always meant to. and he had, hadn't he? in his own way, at the expense of himself, he'd made himself smooth against all of diluc's edges. he'd taken upon what a selfish child would always have wanted.

kaeya's hand creeping across the table to slap itself across the monstrous pile of fries he's collected is a sufficient enough distraction. he's already shooing it, rougher than what anyone who'd observed him passingly would ever come to expect, brows knitting in that distinctly fatigued way that they do. ]

Didn't I tell you they weren't worth trying? [ if he were a lesser man, he'd roll his eyes right now. but, the tone carries the same spirit. even if he's sliding his somewhat tart concoction across the table instead without so much as a comment on what he's substituted. he tells himself it's only so he won't whine. ] Stop pawing around at my plate.

[icespy]

I'll have you know I've been conducting a very thorough investigation into all the bars, thank you. You never know what nefarious plots are being hatched in such shadowy locales.

[ what goes unspoken is that kaeya lives and breathes in the shadows, that they suit him far more than the light ever has. he'd spent too much of his childhood calculating how to stay unseen and unheard, the silent knife to diluc's blazing sword; joining the knights as only the second youngest recruit, dodging any promotions to captain, hiding all the knowledge he'd brought from his homeland - the flourishes to his swordplay from a boy who's carried a weapon the moment he could hold anything, the mathematics and sciences taught by tutors far more advanced than this backwards country, the history that all the books got so wrong...the ease to which he could slit a person's throat and feel nothing.

he'd thought he'd been subtle, but it had gotten to the point where master crepus, worried about the stories of second sons festering in envy and resentment, had pulled him aside to quietly reassure him he could choose any paths in life he wants - he, after all, wasn't the one burdened with a father's legacy on too young shoulders. kaeya hadn't known how to tell him that he didn't mind following in diluc's footsteps, truly; for all that he preens and struts and aggravates, genuine admiration and praise is a spotlight he avoids as much as he can. he'd have been perfectly content trailing behind diluc for the rest of their lives, watching him shine enough for the both of them.

but everyone casts shadows, and the one kaeya drags behind him is large enough to eclipse out the sun. ]

Everything's worth trying at least once. What if you're missing out on something great? [ so he says, but that doesn't stop him from taking a sip out of diluc's cup - and then promptly making a face and whining anyway. ] Ugh, juice? You could have warned a guy.

[anbruch]

[ there is something in diluc's extremely flat expression that conveys the entirety of his doubt mixed with the absolute certainty that kaeya knows better than anyone that running a bar would make him more familiar with shady dealings in them than most people. in fact, he often sees kaeya engaging in a questionable thing or two. not that he's keeping tabs - he has enough of those in literal to deal with. it isn't his business anymore.

even so, diluc settles on crossing his arms. the meat of his thumb rubs at the crook of his opposite elbow as he leans back, the wild spill of his red hair blown off his face with a well-aimed exhalation. ]

Says the one who won't give anything nonalcoholic a chance. [ he knows that isn't wholly true. very little is. he'd come to learn it in the remaining texts, the scraps of information fed through the lips of those who knew nothing, but shadow. he'd known it, as he'd known the fine points of a star. he'd traced the edge of understanding, in the aftermath, but who was he to stand in the light when there was more to be done in the darkness? for all that a dawn will not yet come, he thinks he won't be the only one to come stumbling into the day, blinking and blinded. how could he be, he'd always thought, when the one who lit the pale nights was never him to begin with? how funny it is, that the paths have been traded. twinned stars in an infernal net, pulling at each other until they inevitably collapse - what good will it do? and yet, diluc treads along the line of daybreak. he lets kaeya know the sun on his face.

after all, diluc had never deserved it.

diluc tilts his chin at the glass. he knew he would whine either way. ]

I don't want the rest. [ he does, actually, but if kaeya doesn't get some kind of liquid in him that isn't so high proof, diluc has no doubt he'd be stumbling around the deck soon. ]

[icespy]

[ and as always, kaeya seems to be able to read a full conversation in diluc's frosty stare despite the total lack of words exchanged. he laughs, subconsciously shifting forward as the other man leans back, the moon following the tide in a neverending cycle as it grasps for the shore. ]

Oh, don't look at me like that. [ his voice takes on that particularly annoying sing-song pitch he gets when he's sunk his teeth into a juicy tidbit of gossip he'll only share with enough effort, like dangling a mouse in front of a cat. ] If you ask politely, I'll let you in on a few surprises I've found.

And what do I look like, your garbage can? [ diluc's never been a great liar, and from the massive pile of salt and grease still left on his plate, it's not hard to tell he would actually like the rest of his juice back. small as it is, it's a gesture that reeks too much of pity and concern, and it makes kaeya's skin prickle all over as if thousands of ants are biting him all at once. as usual, the uncrowned king of mondstadt is ever the fucking gentleman. it curdles his stomach, this constant push and pull, this dried empty husk of what their relationship had once been; it would be easier, he thinks, if diluc would just outright hate him instead of offering these pathetic scraps of kindness, borne out of duty and habit than anything real. it would be easier if diluc would just be cruel, the way kaeya is so often cruel to him.

but then who is he kidding? he's the one who comes crawling back every time no matter how often the door's been slammed shut, who seeks the other's presence out like a moth to the flame that will one day kill him. ]

Anyway, I've already given your juice a chance, and one is all it deserves. [ desperate for a distraction, he lifts his arm to gesture over an invisible waiter and gives them his most charming smile. ] Hello there! My, aren't you looking lovely tonight. My grumpy companion here will have a refill on whatever this concoction is, and I will have something fun. Ooh, what's that, a fishbowl full of alcohol? Yes, I'll take that, please and thank you so much.

[anbruch]

[ it'd always been like this: surging and receding, the inexorable pull of binary stars. for all that kaeya would follow, diluc would lead. and now? well, it doesn't much matter in the dim of this bar. for all that kaeya leans in, diluc knows the turn of his talk. he knows what kaeya's after, spearing his desire for information as though on the thorn of his irritation. diluc, for all he wants to snap at the promise of it, keeps his expression still. and yet, there is something that simmers in the ember of his eyes. it lingers even though he casts his gaze to the side, watches the apparition make itself busy. the glasses and plates are artfully stacked and sorted, removed without much thought.

leave to kaeya, to warm up the slivers of some long rotted corpse. ]

As if. [ as if, he'd always said. playful, once. tossed across cobble, rolled over the sheets in the barracks. curled past his fingertips, pressed to the cool shell of his ear. but now, it only sours on the tongue. it films over the white of his eyeteeth. it makes something dim and witless in his blood run, hungry to bruise. to be bruised.

fine, he thinks in the pettiest parts of himself as he watches kaeya aim to drown in clear liquors, let him succumb too. ] Whatever. Don't expect me to drag you back to your room after this.

[icespy]

[ ah, and there he goes disappointing the noble young master again. there's a vindictive twist in his gut, dark and hot with loathing and bitter satisfaction, as he once again exposes the rotten core of himself to the blazing fires of diluc's judgment. serves the guy right for expecting anything but the worst out of him, serves him right for reaching out to a viper in the dark. he laughs, bright and glittering and brittle as the shards of ice he wields. ]

Don't worry, I would never expect anything from you, Master Diluc.

[ poison drips from his lips, frost from his smile. for a moment, kaeya's breath seems near visible in the sudden temperature drop of the air around him - and then he blinks and suddenly snaps back to mischievous cheer again, mercurial as the shifting tides. he's never been able to ever get truly angry at diluc, after all - not in their youth and certainly not now, when he's lost all right to it - and this is hardly anger he's emanating off in cold waves. just a warning, that's all; the baring of teeth from a wounded creature, the rattling of a snake, the thorns surrounding a beautiful flower: do not come too close.

really, it's for diluc's own good. he should know what happens, entrusting any portion of himself into kaeya's hands. ]

And come on, don't be such a stick in the mud! [ 'come on, luc' echoes across the sands of time, the vines of the winery, across training fields and mountainsides and dark alleyways long past curfew - that strange foreign boy dragging mondstadt's young prince into trouble again and again, and then dragging him right back out. ] Don't you want to know who else is on this ship with us?

[anbruch]

[ is it really disappointment? or is it the bitter acceptance of a truth? soured like grapes on the vine, hands sticky with the residue of all the summers between, he thinks it serves him right. he's thinks it serves him right, that he is stung by the things that linger and sup and breed. never one to flinch from the fire, always one to embrace the fangs of the cold — it is a stubbornness that will be the end of him, he knows. and yet, the poison spreads into the wound. it gnaws at the pettiest portions of him, prickles along the scars kaeya's painted clean against him. it seizes in the throat and diluc breathes around it. fixes his gaze, once more and eventually, on the dark star that hangs in the pale of kaeya's lone eye.

perhaps they are truly doomed after all. wrapped irreparably about the fingers of the other, the rot too deep to salvage the foundations and the roots. diluc holds no illusions. not since his youth, when the name on kaeya's lips was soft and sweet and all things untrue. ]

Anyway, [ he says, after a staggered beat or two. the flat line of his mouth parts about the sigh, fingers dug into his arms. ] Just cut to the chase and tell me what you want.

[ isn't that always what it boils down to? an exchange, some business. kaeya needn't remind him he's nothing more to give him. he needn't remind himself too. ]

[icespy]

[ what he wants, hm? it's a difficult question for him to answer, even just as a casual aside; he's never thought about what he wants, never truly dwelled on it, because it's never mattered. khaenri'ans dream of dreaming, a cyclical paradox keeping them trapped in their own eternal mist, and kaeya's dreams are perhaps the most impossible of all. he wants to go back to those idyllic days of their youth when they believed their bond strong enough to conquer any obstacles in their way; he wants to move forward with the two of them finally on equal ground to the cruel realities of this world. he wants justice for the atrocities committed against his people; he wants his people to stay buried underground forever so they don't disturb the peace diluc has dedicated his life to protecting. he wants diluc to trust him unconditionally again, to look at him with the same dazzling affection that had once shone so brilliantly in his eyes; he wants diluc to stay as far away from him as possible, to keep his throat away from this twisted creature of venom and ice that will only drag anyone that comes too close down into the abyss with him.

he wants to go home, and he doesn't have the faintest clue of where that is.

the invisible waiter interrupts his musings, plonking down a refill of juice and a massive fishbowl of dubiously neon blue liquor complete with little candy fishes. perhaps mistakenly believing that no single person could possibly consume this much alcohol in one sitting, someone has placed two swizzle straws into the bowl. glancing at this monstrosity, he lets out a wry chuckle under his breath before nudging it towards the middle of the table. ]

Come now, you've had plenty of experience with these sorts of diplomatic negotiations to know how this goes. Drink with me, Master Diluc, and I'll tell you what I've learned.

[ he's not actually out to get diluc drunk - even he knows the importance of keeping their wits about them while in unfamiliar territory. but just watching the guy have to take a sip of what honestly looks like it might be radioactive alcohol is enough of a petty victory for him. ]

[anbruch]

[ isn't it? what really is it, that either of them want? when he was young, diluc once thought he knew everything. he once thought he knew what lay in the palm of his hand, the shape of his desire and the warmth of its skin. he once thought it was all he could do, to listen to what was given to him. his own father's legacy, the approval of mond - what more could he want? how foolish he'd been, when the rain blew in. how naïve. (and yet, he remembers the cool of his hands. he remembers the first, simple sentences. he remembers, a blue shard of ice through the heart.)

there's no use in recalling, diluc thinks, what never was. twin and binary stars, destined only to tear one another apart - what really was left of them? balled up to the chest, tucked behind teeth, it's only the littlest things. diluc keeps them, hand over fist. ]

Is this how the Knights of Favonius treat all their relations these days? [ petty back-biting, little flashes of teeth. that's all that it is. and still, diluc leans. the red of his palm touches the bend of the furthest straw, idly supports it. it is a gesture of good will on any other, but as kaeya has so stupidly insisted, diluc will happily shove his nose in it. ] After you, Sir Kaeya.

[ go ahead, diluc thinks. the corners of his mouth tick up just slightly. ]

[icespy]

[ the past is a long slaughtered creature better left to rot underground, a decaying carcass weighing him down that drags behind him with every step he takes - and yet, even with the stink of it on his breath, in his mouth, he can't bear to let it go. it's probably a good thing varka took the cavalry when he left, because apparently the greatest talent kaeya has with horses is beating a dead one into the ground.

he should just leave it, he knows. he should just keep all their interactions professional, two strangers whose only point of connection is protecting their city. it's what would be best for them both - but kaeya has never done anything best for himself in his life, and he's certainly not about to break that record now. instead he leans forward as well, matching diluc's movements like the shadow he'd once been called, the moon for a singular moment of eclipse in the same orbit as the sun. ]

Only the special, extra-grumpy, clearly in need of a drink ones. [ he flutters his eyelashes as obsequiously as possible, wrapping his lips around the straw and taking an obnoxiously loud slurp. the taste is...indescribable. he does his best to keep the wince off his face, nose still wrinkling slightly - how can something taste blue? - before he covers it up with a beaming smile. ]

Absolutely delectable! Your turn. [ his smile curls at the edges into something more challenging, provocation clearly dripping off every word. ] At least if it's poisoned, you'll know ahead of time.