sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

1. now it's fun to wake up in a strange chateau

[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 Passenger(s),

As your cruise director, it is my great honor to welcome you aboard the Serena Eterna, your destination for fun and adventure! We know you could have chosen any cruise line for your vacation, and we're very grateful you chose ours! On behalf of the Captain, I would like to assure each and every passenger that will we do whatever it takes to fulfill all your needs and desires during your journey with us.

At your earliest possible convenience, please attend the mandatory lifeboat drill by the end of the day. I'm sure everyone is very eager to get started on all the fun and sun, but safety always comes first! You can find your life jacket in your cabin's closet; carry it to your assigned muster station on deck one, where I will take you through the drill. If you can't find me in the crowd, just look for the gal with the winning smile!

See You Real Soon!

Sincerely,
Gal Friday

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 someone in uniform near the front of the crowd. she seems to be a gal, but is missing the winning smile, along with most of her other features. she seems to see you, though, rushing to your side and placing a lei around your neck with great formality. a voice, cheery but artificial, sees to come from nowhere and everywhere.]

Welcome aboard! We're so glad to have you!

[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.]

2. messing with my mind was fun at the time

[freshly lei'd, your legs are forced to lead out onto the deck and towards your muster station. the same woman is there, carrying a clipboard. this time, she introduces herself as Gal Friday, the cruise director, before immediately going into the muster drill spiel. it is very boring, and you are not allowed to move, except when you are required to show you know how to put your life vest on. you could try to not do this, but Friday will move to stand in front of you very closely and just. look in your direction until such a time that you decide to do it. and I'm sure your fellow passengers want you to just get on with it, too.

but, once it ends? she reiterates her desire to welcome you aboard. and, then, you're free.

well, free to move about the ship at your own leisure, of course. which is a kind of free, and probably the best one you can hope for. you could try to escape, maybe, if you have the means to; Friday certainly won't be one to stop you. that's what the barrier is for, after all.

but, wouldn't you much rather have fun?

the buffet is full. the pool is open. the casino jingles and chimes.

welcome aboard.]

3. lots of mystery in the history of the devils I knew

[you were never alone.

a few days have passed since you first arrived on the Serena Eterna. perhaps you've made yourself a little routine, and settled in a bit. or maybe you haven't done that at all. either way, you're here, and it looks like somebody is pretty pissed off about it.

it starts small. sometimes nearby plates skid off tables, or a pool chair upends while you're walking next to it. and sometimes that chair is aimed right at your head. objects are moving with quickly increasing frequency, and a wide variety of styles: some are dropped, or pushed, and others and others are tossed, but a few of the items are thrown, with great force and odd accuracy. if Friday is around during the lighter moments, she simply titters and cleans up whatever mess is made. if a pot of soup sails off the buffet line and nearly drenches you in boiling minestrone, she simply walks away.

and then there's the voices. hundreds, maybe thousands, calling out. not all are intelligible English, but you seem to understand them anyway. some sound scared, or angry. some are screams, others whispers. some sound entirely strange, while others are achingly familiar. and they're all saying the same exact thing:

Get Out.]

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"Your old man's name was 'Hydra'? Sounds like a real piece of work." He didn't peg Craig for a daddy issues on top of PTSD kind of bloke but maybe he can figure that out later, along with the just-got-fired-from-being-an-assassin thing. Tough luck.

"Right. Well all we need is a monk and a paladin and we can raid the lowest deck together," John remarks dryly as one of the elevators dings and the sleek door slide open, waiting for them to step inside.

"Well Craig, I don't want to be losing a hand like you, so you'd better come inside," John encourages, leading the way into the lift and holding the door open for Craig.

[from the very start of the drill, there is a vague sort of background noise, one that doesn't not sound like a tea kettle being smothered by a pillow. and the drill itself seems to go faster than it ought to, maybe, as if the recording were being played on x2 speed.

immediately after the drill ends, Friday rushes towards the nearest door - only to return an instant later, clutching a pair of extremely tacky swim trunks in one hand.

she holds it out to him wordlessly, her face firmly facing the floor. her free hand wavers, as if she'd like to use words, but is currently unable to form them.]

[Usually he charges for a show but the first one's just a free taste of the cornucopia of disasters that Constantine has to offer.]

Cheers luv. [She's barely able to take her hands off the bowl before he's snatching it from her and turning away to puke into it. It's not deep like a bucket but thankfully his lack of dinner and just hitting the bottle hard last night meant there's not much coming out, certainly not enough to make a splash.

He needs a couple minutes to just get it out, but then he's looking slightly less pale when he's able to set the bowl down and wipe his lips with the back of his hand.]

Oh, that's better.

[Extremely tacky is still loads better than the beans and sausage just hanging out there in all its English breakfast glory. She gets an appreciative grunt out of him while he tries to find the front and the back, the inside from the outside, and finally having it the right way round, he tries to steady himself on a handrail while step-hop-staggering into it.]

Cheers mate. Hope you didn't have to nick someone else's knickers... slightly damp... wee bit tight-- oop, bollocks, clipped the left one-- [He stops talking to himself when he lifts his head again and sees her, or at least, the top of her head. She's got a bit of a retro hairstyle. Big MILF lady in the streets, freak in the sheets energy.]

Not everyday I get rescued by a pretty damsel. Didn't catch your name, love.

[There's just the smallest feeling of safety being outside of the hall. It's not much, but there's a narrow window where they can still throw the plates. Nell eyes it from where she sits.]

Media consumption, mostly. [She's never gotten close enough to her own ghost to try and stab it. Not since she was a little girl on that couch in the den...]

Did you...did you want some help? [She can offer some small distractions?]

[Hey, she's had worse introductions. She doesn't know his name but she'll still go ahead and rub at his back like it's going to help the situation.]

How 'bout we figure out where you left your pants, huh? You're gonna start to chafe if you just keep letting it all hang out. And that balmy ocean air? Not very forgiving to bare asses. Trust me when I say yikes.

[And since she's already basically held his hair back while he pukes, she guesses they're like friends now. That means they're on a first name basis, obviously.]

The name's Harley, by the way.

"I don't have an old man. HYDRA was my handlers."

Not anymore. He's not going back. Though given the amount of say he had in showing up here, he's not sure what good his desperate plans are anymore.

He takes one step towards the elevator, then stops. Shudders a little at the sight of the small space. "I. I can't."

[It's only unresolved trauma. Nothing a bit of unprompted angry lashing out can't fix.]

It's like a whole city on a boat, here. [He could easily get lost inside and not even realise he's not in some Vegasesque town, if it wasn't for the occasional churn of the sea making the ground move beneath them. At least until he takes maybe half a day to gets his bearings on the boat.]

I'm Bucky, by the way. From New York. [Since she'd mentioned LA.]

Trust issues, no name, 'Winter Soldier', assassin, handlers - past tense, claustrophobic... Alright. John's piecing together bits and pieces, based on the dribs and drabs Craig is giving him. He slips out of the elevator just as it closes behind him, nearly clipping the tail of his trenchcoat, and stays standing, unmoving between Craig and the stairs.

"Alright love," John says, voice dropping to a gentle but firm tone. He has a calming spell up his sleeve - he has a lot of spells up his sleeve - but using magic from the get-go usually doesn't turn out so well.

"You're alright." He can't promise that there's no hydras here. He's seen some weird shite even when he hasn't ingested a whole bowl of ayahuasca. A hydra could be waiting in the men's loo waiting to attack them with all its heads flying out the door. But he can be a little bit serious for a little while, just try and get Craig to a slightly better headspace. People who are scared and unpredictable and have nothing to lose are far more dangerous than any hydras, angels or demons he's ever gone toe to toe with.

"Well I came here alone. I presume you came here alone. Let's say... Hydra isn't here. And nobody's going to find you, put you in a wee cage. You don't have to do what anyone else wants you to do. You're on a boat, somewhere nobody can find you, and you're free. What do you want to do?"

[What gave it away? That seems like a silly question, when his Vision is so obvious. It’s practically highlighted with the way his shirt - shirts? - lay, as if he’s begging for someone to notice it.

Still, maybe this is… a normal line of conversation.]

You have a Vision.

[She’s never had much experience with the Fatui - she had heard whispers of them during her time in the harbor because people liked to talk. She only has vague knowledge that the Fatui were behind unleashing Osial and hasn’t dealt with any Fatuus personally, yet, but like most things she only knows the bare bones of it.

It doesn’t bother her much, at least.]

Though I don’t recognize the casing it’s in.

[It’s different from what houses her own Vision and the Visions of everyone she’s met so far, so she imagines it has to mean something.]

Edited (I FUCKED UP MY HTML CRIES) 2022-02-12 07:39 (UTC)

They were on the floor. [Of that shitty motel he was staying in in between jobs, and he didn't check to see if his clothes had followed him here. Now it's probably not possible to get back into his room - he's going to have to find one of the crew to help unlock his door. Or he could be an arse about it and portal in, but sometimes he doesn't end up where he wants to go, and blowing his magic load while nursing a hangover is not what he wants to be doing when he finds himself on a cruiseship with potentially free drinks and a lot of pretty neighbours to... admire from a respectable distance at, of course. What does he look like, some kind of cheap slut?]

John. Pleasure's all mine, probably. [He knows he has a reputation, so that's fine with him. He might change his mind once he figures how batshit crazy she is, but for now, she's been nothing but helpful and kind.]

Maybe-- is there a towel in one of the trolleys, somewhere? [He could strut around with a towel like one of those obsessed with the beach wankers.]

[you can be a cruise director and have hobbies. and maybe one of those hobbies is standing in complete silence very close to distracted people and (politely?) waiting until they have noticed you're there.]

Oh yeah?

[Harley gives a hearty pat to his back, smiling sweetly.]

Do you want one of those fluffy bathrobes too? Slippers, perhaps? And maybe a punch to your face while I'm at it?

[It's said with amusement rather than with any intent of it being a threat. She knows he couldn't possibly realize the issues she has with men telling her go fetch and do things for them, so she tries to keep it light while also asserting her boundaries.]

I'm not no errand girl, John. But we can look for one of those towel trolleys together. Come on.

[the moment the trunks are on, and not a second before, her head snaps back up. the noise has ended as suddenly as it started.]

As cruise director, I've been given carte blanche to see to every need of my passengers! [she folds her hands in front of her] I'm Gal Friday! We're very happy to have you aboard, Mr. Constantine! Is there anything else I can get you?

[No, he'll pass on the bathrobe and the slippers, he's not one of those octogenerian serial cruise-takers, thanks... he wouldn't mind the punch though, that might be kind of hot.]

Alright. [He straightens up a bit, feeling very old and very tired and only just slightly disoriented before his feet follow his brain's instructions to start moving in Harley's direction, and keep going until they find a trolley.]

Did we um... were you sucking me off last night? [There's no less awkward way of asking it so obviously he's just going to put that out there from the get-go.] I-- just a complete blackout, mate. Don't remember how we ended up here.

[a pair of sensible white sneakers cross in his field of vision, stopping at the rising table - and it lowers, after a second or two, though slowly, almost reluctantly.

an upside-down face pops out from the top. but, it's Friday; she basically looks the same in either direction?]

Are you playing a game, Mr. Estival? [she sounds. slightly dubious.] I think you'll find much better ones out on the sports deck!

Jesus Christ! [Her lack of bits of her face startles some sobriety into him and he jumps a bit. She's not any less of a MILF, to be clear, he's an equal opportunity fucker, but, you know. Going to be kind of difficult to get any mutual mouth action.

Her robotic voice is also a little bit weird, only slightly more animated than the first five minutes of a phone call to a company with an automated call directing system. It takes some getting used to.]

No no, don't get me Jesus, I've already found Him. More interested in the strippers and the smokes if you're finding me anything, but anyway, listen, love - could you tell us where we are? Also, are you hiring a stage magician to impress these wankers with a fire and lights and demonic summoning show?

You're on vacation! And I might be a little biased, but the Serena Eterna is just about the best way to travel that there is! We're very glad you chose us! [brightly] There are duty-free cigarettes on sale at the sundries shop - but, if you're more of a cigar man, there is Tauva on Deck Four. Of course, tobacco products can only be enjoyed in our designated smoking areas!

[and then she pauses, her head tilting owlishly. a hand goes to her cheek.]

Oh... We haven't had any live entertainment on board in a very long time... Oh, but I would never dream of asking my passengers to work on their vacations! That wouldn't be very nice at all!

[a spray of water, aimed with almost surgical precision, hits the lit tip of his cigarette.

and then a second spray happens, but that one seems to mostly aim towards his face. whoops.

Friday is maybe a foot or two away, suddenly, her tone chiding as the hand that doesn't hold the spray bottle shakes a finger at him.] Smoking is not allowed outside of designated areas, Mr. Crain! Don't you want to be considerate of your fellow passengers' health?

[well, at least he's honest. he has that going for him.]

If my mouth was anywhere near any part of your body, buddy, you better believe you'd remember it.

[He gets a look. One that says she might be offended. But then she seems to just shrug it off.]

I was on a South American island last night. So unless you were visiting Corto Maltese in the middle of a poorly executed government coup, there's no way it could've been me.

...sure! [But why would he steal a credit card, book himself a cruise vacation to the middle of nowhere - he's noticed she hasn't said where he's on vacation, exactly - get himself on a boat and pass out whilst giving his real name? He was completely plastered; he wouldn't have been able to even type his last name into a computer properly.]

I am a smoking area, but I'll keep that in mind. I'd just-- y'know, like to buy some duty-free cigarettes, but. I came on board like this. [Without the trunks, of course. He's not about to ask one of the staff about questionable ways to get some money, even if he hasn't really had an honest day's work in his life.]

It's hardly work at all if I'm having fun, eh?

[a light laugh] Oh, don't worry about any of that! Everything you buy on board is charged to your room automatically. The Captain's always said that money is too vulgar to be used for exchanges!

[another pause, another head tilt. her nose wrinkles. a battle is waged.]

... I will keep your very generous offer in mind! [she'd probably sound more excited if she wasn't very clearly trying not to.]

Oh, is that right? [Well, as long as someone else is paying for his smokes. This all just sounds too good to be true.]

Thanks love. Gal Friday, wasn't it? You're a lovely cruise director. I'll remember you. [Nevermind that he's never met any other cruise director. He wants to schmooze, get to know everyone on the ship, whether they work here or, like him, had one hell of a night and woke up like this in their crispest, best birthday suit.]

What's it like being a cruise director? Hundred hats and not enough heads? You make it look so natural, you must've been doing this for years.

I would have to check first, but I think I just passed the 500 mark a few years ago! [hands on hips] I only started counting very recently, though, so don't count me off as a greenhorn for that! It's never felt like work since day one, though! It's the best job there is!

... Though, I've never been anything else, so I wouldn't know what to compare it to! I've certainly never been anything as exciting as a warlock! That must be fun!

[breezily, at her right elbow] Oh, that's only ever happened a few times. It should be fine!

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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