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

Nostradamus | Reign

[nostradamnit]

1. Nigredo [ARRIVAL]
The entire situation is nothing if not confusing for the tall renaissance man; he's dressed for winter in the court of France, and everything about this ship and the explanation makes no sense to him. The kiss, he politely elbows his way out of.

But he does immediately know what to do when he's given the lei: he grasps the white circle and licks it. Because of course he does.

"Some sort of amulet? I wonder..."


2. Albedo [TOPY]
It's hard to miss Nostradamus as he wanders the ship; he's 6'5", and even with his habit of walking with his head down slightly, he still stands out. On this fine afternoon, he can be found in Topy, examining the bottles of wine.

"There was no one even growing grapes in Burgundy at the time these claim to have been bottled. They must be fake." But he insists on trying them anyway, and will offer a glass to anyone else he encounters.


3. Citrinas [MEDICAL BAY]
Someone was bright (or perhaps foolish) enough to mention the ship's medical bay to Nostradamus--while he has very little idea what some of the medications are, the shiny modern surgical tools are a treat to discover. He didn't have such precision instruments when he was working for the French Court.

Unfortunately, your character has walked in behind him and startled him, so he turns with a scalpel in hand. This may look a little frightening.


4. Rubedo [WILDCARD]
darkersolstice or darkersolstice#9463 as usual. Other places to find him might be Tommy Bahama, the Morgue, or any of the restaurants trying to figure out modern food--I just only had four stages of the Magnum Opus to use as starter titles.

4, Solution of sulphur of white light

[saltwaterlungs]

There's a girl in the morgue, slumped against one of the walls. She looks pale, isn't moving, and isn't breathing. There's a sword balanced in her lap, that probably resembles a weapon of his era, though her clothes are odd and modern. Investigate the cause of death?

[nostradamnit]

Yes, of course. Looking first for any wounds, then for any of the typical indications that she's been poisoned. Which means, yes, he may be a little handsy with her, but in a dispassionate, professional manner.

[saltwaterlungs]

A brief visual analysis brings up nothing, though a close look at her face shows an odd prominence of veins near her mouth, some discoloration like a lack of blood. Then the second he actually goes to touch her, Darcy snaps out of her meditation violently, recoiling, pushing him away, and smacking her head against the wall all in one flailing motion. One hand goes to her blade, the other grips the back of her skull.

"Ow- what the fuck, asshole?!"

She's got a distinctive French accent that shows through, even when speaking English.

Citrinas

[lightconductor]

Watson has seen scarier things than tall men in historical garb wielding scalpels in the infirmary. This isn't even in the top ten.

Still, he pauses, leaning on his cane, and raises his chin in a vaguely challenging way (and also because he has to look up), eyebrow lifted curiously. "Good afternoon. I hadn't expected to find anyone else down here."

[nostradamnit]

"Good afternoon." The man's voice is deep and harsh and raspy, with a hint of a French accent. He sounds like he's growling every word, but he doesn't seem to be angry or upset.

"I was examining the tools and medications available. Where I come from, I am a physician--though I don't recognize all that is on the shelves here."

[lightconductor]

"Are you?"

He relaxes, at least as much as he ever relaxes around a stranger he hasn't yet worked out.

"I'm a physician as well," Watson says. "Many of the medicines here were new to me, too. We are dealing with things invented long after our time, I suspect." He smiles, blandly. "Dr. John Watson, at your service."

3

[pineapplesalmon]

César was curious what someone else was doing in the infirmary when he went to refill his medication. He was so curious that he forgot to be loud enough not to sneak up on the person.

He holds up his hands and takes a few steps back when a scalpel is pulled on him. "Ack, sorry!"

[nostradamnit]

"No, no, it's alright. I...sorry." He reaches behind himself, setting the scalpel down and holding up his hands placatingly. For once, César gets to be the one looking up at someone, as the renaissance man is a bit of a giant--easily six and a half feet if you let his curls count in the measurement.

"I was curious what supplies and tools would be on hand, here, for physicians."

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks up in surprise. Well, then. This is a little unusual. With the scalpel down, César puts down his own hands.

Then, he starts laughing, and gives a wide shrug. "More medication than tools, unfortunately. But decent medication. Tools are a bit older, but still functional."

Nigredo

[latersgators]

"...are you hungry?" Steven asks, taking pity on the man who looks very overdressed for a summer vacation on board a deathboat to nowhere. It's actually quite a stylish costume and... Steven's not sure if the imposing-looking gentleman who's more than half a foot taller than he is is going to try and stay in character or...?

"We can go find some food?" he offers with a tight-lipped smile, clasping his hands together as his shoulders tense and rise. He rubs his thumbs over the sides of his hands and lets go again, breathing out a shoulders-settling sigh and hugging his lifejacket against his chest as he turns to start walking away from the muster point.

"I love your outfit mate. I'm a huge fan of Renaissance fairs myself. It looks so authentic..."

[nostradamnit]

"I didn't lick the amulet because I'm hungry--though I am. I was checking to see if it's bone." He smiles crookedly, his voice deep and raspy, not entirely unlike an exceedingly polite fireplace. "It is."

As for the rest of what Steven's saying, about Renaissance fairs and authenticity, that genuinely seems to confuse him somewhat, but he's not sure how to ask useful questions beyond a 'what the fuck' that would be entirely improper.

"If you do know where food can be found, though, perhaps we should seek it out."

[latersgators]

"You can taste bones?" That's... oh... kay. Marc might have some stiff competition here. Maybe this is just a dressed-up asylum on water.

"Well what would I know! I'm vegan. Ahaha." They could tell Steven sausage tastes like kale and he'd believe it. He's pretty sure bones don't taste like much of anything though. Hopefully his laugh doesn't sound too awkward as he starts heading towards the elevator area, looking for some signage.

"Um..." He drags a finger down the side of the plaque once he finds the directory, eyes scanning over the list of facilities and floors.

"Ah! This looks like a restaurant." He glances over to his new friend and smiles. "Shall we?"

2

[justneedsomehelp]

Marc isn't really the wine sort of guy. That's-- probably more Steven's area than his. But he's not one to turn down a glass offered to him and in the end, he's not that picky of a drinker anyway.

So, yeah, he'll take it. Why not?

"Not too fake to drink, I guess?"

[nostradamnit]

Blink. This looks very much like the guy he saw right after the muster drill. Very, very much. How odd.

"I'm figuring out that for myself. The quality of the wine doesn't seem poor. Though I may need to drink more to be certain."

Or, perhaps, to deal with the everything that's going on here.

[justneedsomehelp]

If it helps telling them apart, he definitely sounds like he hails from Chicago. All American, a lot gruffer than the mild mannered brit, that's for sure.

"Sometimes it takes a bottle or two, you know?" There's a slight twitch to the corners of his lips before he brings the glass up for a drink.

"And it's a cruise, right? All the more reason to kick back." Or just drink all this weird shit off their minds. Whatever.

3.

[hellonspectacles]

Hey, there’s nothing weird or scary about a dude standing in an infirmary wielding a scalpel. Seems like he has found an excellent way to pass the time!

Still, Palamedes does stop short, not because he finds the scalpel concerning, but because he had been hoping to find the medical bay empty. He has a backpack swung over his shoulder, which contains his lei and a smattering of supplies for testing it. “Oh! Very sorry for barging in. There’s usually no one down here this time of day.”

[nostradamnit]

"Quite alright. I was simply seeing what is in this 'modern' workspace for a physician. I fear I may have a lot to learn as an apothecary, but at least I can recognize surgical tools."

His smile is crooked and warm under that fluffy beard. "Are you in need of a doctor?"

[hellonspectacles]

Nearly everyone aboard the Serena Eterna comes from far, far in Palamedes’ past—or from a different world entirely. Still it startles him to hear someone call the primitive tools in the infirmary ‘modern.’

Nevertheless, he smiles sympathetically. He understands the unsettling unfamiliarity of this foreign sickroom, even if he is coming from the other direction. “Ah, no. But thank you.” Then he brightens. “But you may be able to help me all the same. Am I right to assume you haven’t been aboard for very long?”

Albedo and wildcard? Listen. There will be flirting and wine.

[draughtsman]

Lucius is not the most observant person, not when it comes to real, tangible concerns like raiding parties or drinks being thrown on him. Cute men, though, those he can spot at a distance and this one? This one does him the service of being staggeringly tall, dark, and handsome. That makes it so much easier to spot him and trail, a bit like a semi-stealthy puppy, as he meanders the promenade.

He ends up standing in front of the wine bar and, since Lucius has an extremely passing familiarity with the place, he all but dives in to make his move.

"They're not bad," he announces from somewhere around this gentleman's elbow. He's posed cute, leaning against the chalkboard folding sign that is outside of the bar. He's going for suave but he is also wearing Tommy Bahama flip-flops, so, he's missing by a wide margin.

"Quite a fun selection if you like wines?"

[nostradamnit]

"I have always enjoyed a good wine, and often a poor one as well--in my years as a student, I often only had access to the worst swill."

The man is dressed old-fashioned, even for Lucius' time; leather jerkin over a linen shirt and trousers, a small leather pouch at his waist. He's a true Renaissance man, standing as if trying to disguise his height (it's not working).

And his voice, raspy and low and rumbly, like an apologetic thundercloud or an exceedingly polite chimney.

[draughtsman]

Lucius could listen to this man read absolute nonsense for hours. Between the accent and the slight shyness inherent in his efforts to minimize himself? He's adorable. He's as tall as a tree and Lucius is ready to climb--but first, he should probably introduce himself.

"Oh, an educated man with opinions on wine?" Lucius flirts, flirtingly. If he could he'd be twirling his hair. He can't, so he just strides up and beams at him. "Care to introduce me to something of quality? I can't pick a wine for my life."

Nigredo (or: Why Does Everyone Keep Licking the Bones?)

[light_mischief]

Skulduggery gives the muster drill a wide berth until he realizes it's not Friday he hears going over the asinine safety instructions, and then he immediately finds a spot in the back to sit back and enjoy the show from. How can he resist? Especially when he sees them handing out the leis -- if Friday isn't around, then where did they get them from? And why wasn't Friday fixed yet, anyway?

He's just going to hang out until after the new passengers thin out, angling to ask these exact questions. And if he's silently judging the random new passenger licking his lei, then there's no way for anybody to tell.

Om nom calcium

[nostradamnit]

Nostradamus, when the presentation is concluded, looks around at his fellow newcomers, their conscripted guides, and then his eyes light on one Skulduggery Pleasant. And lock. He stares, in a most impolite way, confused and puzzled and perhaps a little scared by the sight of that skeletal visage.

Look, his reaction's perfectly normal, for someone from a perfectly mundane world with no magic.

(Except, you know, visions of the future...)

[light_mischief]

Ah, yep. Skulduggery knows he's been made the second the new passenger's face drops from curiosity to something more akin to concern or outright worry. He probably should have just gone off and found Ebalon later...

Well, too late for that. It's probably worse to stand here perfectly still while he's being stared at, and so he tilts his head, lifting a gloved hand in a friendly, casual wave. Skulduggery's only just learned about the leis at this point, I think and if the man gets curious enough to get close, he'll be glad to let him know what he's just been chewing on like a feral teenager.

Then again, the shock of Skulduggery talking might be too much to handle...