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

As always, humans are more complex than they may appear at first glance. Your elaboration is understood.

[A beat. He clenches a fist over his chest, perhaps in idle mimicry of Ingo's earlier gesture.] And...Appreciated.

I think.

[It's still a warm little thing, a tiny ember, and yet...Those are so rare outside of his Prince's interactions that he feels the need to fan it slightly with words that he's uncertain of the correct usage of.] At any rate, you are an ally. I will protect you, if ever you need it. [Considering he looks so harmless up top with the hat tower and the shirts he's carting about, it's...

It sure is something, when he pats his right thigh. A holstered revolver, and two sheathed knives, well-cared for by the way even just the handles gleam faintly.] A sign of my trust, in that you are...Not someone who would attack me for the model I am.

[ this is such a simple pleasure, people understanding the feelings ingo wants to express—yet with many unfortunate misunderstandings on account of his near unmoving face, this is something that brings him immense joy.

ah. those certainly are. weapons. perhaps the vague worry on his face is much too subtle to be noticed as his gaze passes over those gleaming handles, but he recovers quickly regardless. ]

I am grateful, of course, but...! I would like to hope such measures will not be necessary on my account.

At any rate, please rest assured that I've no plans to betray that trust.

[ even knowing all their lives are in danger here, he'd like it if this man wouldn't have to take drastic measures on account of him.

but this may be a good opportunity to extend a bit of courtesy: ingo offers a well-practiced tip of his cap in a belated greeting. ]

Please excuse me for not introducing myself earlier. As they seemed important, I didn't wish to interrupt your questions.

My name is Ingo, and I am a Subway Boss. [ perhaps he should not ask for a name in turn... but rather about what model this gentleman is? if he's approaching the matter wrong, ingo figures he can, at least, take away an important lesson for interacting with other robotic people if he isn't doing it right. ] What model might you be, sir, if you don't mind my asking?

[Sorry Ingo, Dimos notices everything when he's focused. Hence why his hand drifts away from said weapons, instead moving to fix the glove on its opposite. He's safe, promise. Unless he goes into a frenzy, he's perfectly safe to be around! What, a clockwork man who looks completely fascinated by a simple tip of the cap could cause harm? Certainly not.

Dimos almost forgets to reply in kind, to be honest. Maybe he should do that with his hat, to look dandy...To be polite...He knows to take his hat off at times, at least.] You are welcome to interrupt me at any time, unless it is a matter of life or death. Then I will not brook it, Ingo.

My model name is Dimos; I am of the first iteration, though there are more recent models with more advanced functionality that allows for improved battlefield performance. Thus, I am redundant, long abandoned. This may be why I have not heard of subways...A moment, please. [Gotta consult the old database-- yep. Another anachronism from the before times, only the barest definition given.

How strange, that his database lacks so much information. It's a little frustrating, not that Dimos knows how to identify that emotion.] They are used for the streamlining of underground transportation? This is very important, so to be a Subway Boss must be demanding. What is involved?

[ truthfully, ingo's main concern is for anyone at all, including dimos himself, to be hurt as the result of an avoidable situation. but right now, it isn't applicable.

besides, it's nice that dimos seems to be able to pick up on his expression shifting, that's a luxury he doesn't get often.

even if what he shifts their conversation to makes ingo's heart ache a bit for him. ]

Well... I, for one, will have to respectfully disagree with the notion that you are at all redundant, Dimos. But to answer your question...

[ he clears his throat a little, clearly used to delivering speeches and statements. ]

Our subway system is automated nowadays, and my duties lean to administrative ones as a result! Managing timetables, lost items, our routes, use of funding, overseeing the mainframe, planning security protocols, and such. Though, on occasion, I fill the part of a conductor, as well! [ he, uh. kind of works a lot. at least he seems very happy and spirited from talking about it, judging by his tone of voice and how quickly he lists off things he does! at the end of that little ramble, he even claps his hands together in delight, once, as if to punctuate the following statement. ] In essence, my task is to ensure that our passengers reach their destination as swiftly and safely as possible!

[ there's more to it, of course... but ingo figures he should perhaps not pile on the whole concept of pokémon and the battle trains, considering there is already so much new information for dimos to take in. ]

TEST DRIVE MEME #3

thank you ingo for your sacrifice. now...dimos can be a little less freaky...and more gap moe

he's got the spirit!! it's all about learning the fundamentals of being gap moe

does that. does that make ingo dimos' senpai. i

ingo-senpai....... ngl he would be so stoked, pls rely on him for things dimos-kun!!!