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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"Sounds like a plan. I'll meet you then."

A pause. "You never did give me a name, though. How am I supposed to talk about you behind your back without one?"

That's mostly a joke, really.

No, it's churning. The wake of the ship.

Nothing on the horizon but more ocean. But I guess that's no surprise.

[ childe's roomie just so happens to be...

a stranger in a green cape and bard's outfit, idly plucking at a lyre and humming to a wordless song, looking just about as serene and casual as anyone could be, waking in a strange location and apparently out at sea. archon or not, venti similarly has no idea what's going on. on the other hand--! ] Memory? As in, I assume, you don't recall boarding a leisure cruise so suddenly like this either, right?

Nooope, I don't either. But I'm used to waking up strange places with little knowledge of how I got there!

[ either by drinking so disastrously hard he passes out and might be kicked out a pub by the owner, or knights/millelith, or... well, going into hibernation and waking up centuries later to a world that may have drastically changed through his slumber. that kind of thing. anyway, he seems to be pretty easy-going about whatever's going on. he's just like that. ]

Edited 2022-02-13 07:18 (UTC)

Not really. But still disappointing.

Before waking up here, what were you doing in space?

"Alright." John meant more generally, like maybe there's something they could do on the ship once Craig's sufficiently stabilised somewhat, but they can take it one thing at a time.

"Let's take the stairs, pet." John takes the lead, again, slow steps and staying in front.

"You'll need to come down, with me." He can try going up, but that's moving away from Deck One, so he can stand there fighting it for another half hour or he can follow the annoying blond bloke with the accent.

"I'm feeling a wee bit peckish. Are you hungry?" Now he's just spontaneously throwing an itinerary together for Craig. After the safety briefing, he's free to peel off and go do whatever he likes of course, and John wouldn't care either way if he has company for mealtime or not. But it seems a little half-arsed to get Craig to the safety briefing and then fuck off.

( better for all parties involved, really. clarke feels like she can shift to focus more on their questionable surroundings, and imagine it must be a little comforting not to feel quite so bare and vulnerable on his part. handshaking can wait, though; past the ominous nature of this meeting, it's still awkward as hell.

she notes his name. almost says nice to meet you, but that just doesn't track right. again: kidnapping, nudity, vomit, and — no, it's mainly the kidnapping that's rubbing her wrong here. )

More or less. I'm pretty sure I was dying, but now I'm here, and it still feels very... real. ( her face hurts when the salty breeze hits it, and the sun off the waves is burning her eyes. she's breathing, and until proven otherwise, is pretty decided that it's all very real. )

It could have been any trenchcoat clad oaf. Why did it have to be this one? At least she has the answer to her question about whether he has sense or not.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself... a shower would work wonders on that smell of yours, Mr. Constantine." Or not. Showers can only wash away so much of the reek of booze and cigarettes when you're constantly living off them.

"I think you're mistaken... You were supposed to be my secretary, and then you ran out on the job. Lucifer was very disappointed, I'll have you know."

( it makes sense from an outside prospective, too, for whatever that's worth to elise. that's really the only question to ask the symphony of threatening voices wailing at everyone from no discernable direction. it's become more obvious that every passenger seems to be experiencing the same ordeal, so at least there's comfort in knowing this slow descent into madness is shared.

clarke can guess the context of the other woman's question, and finds herself pausing a few feet away to wait. to listen. but there's only a brief moment of disappointing silence, before the swell of get out, geeet out, get out get out getoutgetout resumes in her ears. a brief shake of the head, as if to clear her thoughts, then: )

No answer?

1) Arrival

[ All of this is very overwhelming, and the only reason Bricks isn't freaking out is because he's done a good job of convincing himself this is a particularly lucid drug trip. He certainly doesn't feel stoned, and if conjuring up something as mundane as a weird cruise ship is the best he can come up with then he's got other additional questions for himself andor his most recent drug dealer... but the compulsion to walk in directions he doesn't want to go, the static fuzz on the back of his neck that unnervingly reminds him of the Ghost Field, the woman with the Smiling Face giving the announcements; the surreality of all that does very well to sell the lie to himself.

So when he is bequeathed the lei he takes it in stride, investigating it with an earnest curiosity. It clashes horribly with his Victorian-esque ruffle tie, dark green and gold accent vest, and high-rise pants. He shakes the lotus pod and the seeds rattle inside, he rubs one of the feathers across his upper lip, and finally furrows his brow at the white hard carved circle. He pinches it delicately between his fingers, and turns to the nearest passenger to casually ask with a smile, but speaking with all the poshness of a young nobleman who is not taking any of this very seriously. ] Bit of an eclectic mix, all this. What do you make of this one?

2) Exploring

[ Once given his freedom Bricks takes it, exploring all over the ship but finding most interest the library on deck 3, and the various vice-serving establishments such as Playback, Hurikane, Sand Dollars, and Tauva on deck 5. He also occasionally sits at the Pool Bar on deck 6, content to slouch over the bar with more than a few fancy cocktails under his nose.

Naturally, he's also fascinated with the given phone, not ever having seen such wonderous telecommunication technology in his world. He'll readily respond to anyone who has his name and number.

At some point exploring the All and Sundries shop on deck 1 however, he encounters that weird little quirk when trying to check out. He tries very hard to pay honestly with the coin in his pocket. He's not for lacking! And throwing money at problems tends to fix them for him! He does grow impatient eventually and walks off with two small paperback books, then immediately gets caught and chided by Friday for it.

He's back at the shop puzzling how to work this out. Just... "check out as you normally would"...? He turns to the next waiting customer, in line or not, and hands them one of his books. ]

I beg your pardon but could you hold this for me just a tick? I need to experiment with something.

3) Oh god oh man oh god oh MAN

[ So it's been days and now it's very patently clear this isn't a good or even a bad drug trip, which means he's really wanting actual drugs to cope with all of this... but this ship is in frustratingly short supply. He staves off the mental hunger, the sweat on his brow, the nervous tremors in his fingers by keeping on the move. He tries very hard to temper his anxiety with self imposed scientific excursions.

Though ghosts were a fairly normal and accepted occurrences in Doskvol they were no less intimidating for Bricks to deal with. At first he's scared—throws his hands up in the air placatingly at the very first get out and does leave whatever room he wandered into... only to wander back about a few minutes later, curiosity fueled by what was expressly apparently forbidden. He tries to be nice, to reason with them— maybe it seems to work for a few moments... until it doesn't.

His further trepidatious but increasingly brazen attempts also only seem to get him so far; when a rug is pulled out from under him he pinwheels his arms and hops from foot to foot trying to keep his balance (possibly falling into the nearest other passenger—maybe you). When a chair is thrown at him he yelps and ducks and cowers behind tables (or the nearest other passenger—maybe you). He can only take so much of that invisible aggression.

Frustrated, he storms out and plops himself down at one of the waiting room lounge chairs, away from the forbidden but haunted room. His fingers clench through his blonde hair hard and he groans, almost whines. Get out. Get out. Get out and go where?! They're trapped on this infernal ship. ] I bloody can't take any more of this. I'm going to build an electroplasmic grenade so strong it'll reduce all these spectral nuisances into miserable piles of ash and vapor...!

4) Wildcard

[[ Anything you want! More info is in his journal, I'll match brackets or prose! ]]

1. hey everybody, clear the way.

[ She's never been on a boat before.

Well, to be more accurate, she's never been out of the encanto before. She's never seen a body of water this big. And while she should mostly be alarmed - and believe her, she is - there's a part of her heart that opens wide with untapped curiosity. How many other things has she yet to experience? What else can she see if she pulls against her chains enough?

And pull she does, trying to will her legs to move down a different hallway that's caught her interest. She makes a noise of great effort, leaning down to try and physically lift her feet off of the floor. ]

Move! Mooooove! I said move!

[ ...It's not very effective. ]

2. making waves, changing minds.

[ Isabela takes the free range to explore gladly, bustling from one edge of the ship to the other with renewed vigor. And while much interests her - the lights from the casino, the smell of warm food from the buffet, and all of the mingling she hears about - none of it draws her in quite like the endless ocean they've found themselves surrounded by.

She finds herself at the edge of deck six, hanging onto the guard rail and taking in the scent of the ocean breeze. She hasn't yet noticed the plant life blooming all around her - winding vines, prickly cacti, and flowers in a cacophony of colors. Orchids, sundew, birds of paradise, all clinging to the ship as if that's where they belong. ]

3. i wanna feel the shiver of something new.

[ Isabela can be found by the buffet's salad bar, hunched behind a comically large cactus. Every so often, she'll peek above the top of it before shrinking back down with an audible squeak. ]

It's... i-it moved!

[ She gestures wildly for a few moments, seemingly at a loss for words. She comes very close to pricking herself on the cactus in the process. ]

I was going to grab a plate, but they - one of them just flew off!

[ She turns away from the scene entirely, back to her cactus, eyes wide as saucers. Still, there's a ferocity in her tone when she speaks next. ]

Something is seriously wrong with this place!

He's not super great at recognizing jokes. He squints a moment at Johnny, then holds up the metal hand. "The one with the metal arm," he suggests. Then he drops it, and adds, "I don't have a name."

(Shut up, Steve Rogers. He doesn't think he can say that name yet, let alone claim it.)

( she hadn't meant to scare anyone. when launched suddenly into unknown waters (ha), there's an almost overpowering drive to find as many answers as humanly possible, to try to make some sense of the situation. and one of the main objects of curiosity were the items that seemed to be operating all on their own; musical instruments, the register in the convenience shop below, margherita shakers behind the bar, and the entirety of the kitchen from what she'd been able to spot through the service door porthole windows. and now the cards, with another body already occupying the space underneath the table, and summarily smacking their head against thick polished wood.

she pauses, hands up and palms open; an unintrusive gesture, the universal sign for woah, i'm not a threat. )

I'm sorry.

( unimpressed, but not insincere. he's talking so he'll probably be fine. clarke squats down a little ways away, between two chairs drawn up to the table, and tries to peek around the man before giving up and just asking: )

Did you find anything?

Best to keep it small for now. He'll get to the more existential "what do you want" questions eventually. Just... maybe not today.

But he does follow along, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, where there's a knife that he can hold onto just for the feeling of security. "I should eat," he says, which is not exactly an answer. He struggles for a moment-- it was so much easier to handle his shit when he didn't have to admit to a need out loud because nobody was trying to talk to him-- then adds, "Food would be a good idea."

( there's a hard set to clarke's jaw, and a rather pinched quality to her voice when answering the question. eyebrows eye, somewhere between incredulous and a bit accusatory because

what sort of question is that?? )

Who here looks like they willingly brought themselves on board?

( she's not met a majority of the other passengers they'd been forced to stand side-by-side with in absolute stillness, but the signs were there: she'd not seen a single person dressed for a vacation, nor anyone who actually looked excited to be here. clarke personally, sticks out like a sore thumb with a dark green hazmat suit under her lifejacket, and has a smattering of burns across her face suggesting that, yeah no, she didn't sign up for this — more like was meant to be halfdead, and instead woke up in a ridiculously clean bed.

the fact that they're all strangers is taking a back seat to the fact they all seem to have been kidnapped. )

"Right." Lunch date counts as the first date by the way so the biting is coming, Craig.

"I'll take you to the safety briefing. Just stand there and look alive, nothing too complicated. Then we'll go for some scran." That's Scouse for 'food', but Craig will get the hang of it.

"What're you thinking to have?" John tries to distract him further as they head down multiple flights of stairs. Deck One is all the way down. "A huge chunk o' steak? Twelve strips of bacon and one leaf of lettuce? Or are you a vegetarian quiche sort of bloke?"

Johnny pauses a moment, weighing his own comfort level, before replying. "You can pick one, if you want. Names aren't always something people get given. Sometimes names are a thing that's chosen. That's what I ended up doing."

Unh, well, we're all dying y'know. I was dying too. Been going through a pack a day long as I remember. [He's not trying to overshare. He'll lie, cheat, scam, hoodwink, swindle, double-cross, cut deals, barter his way out of hell, same as he always does. He's just saying he can relate.]

I've always wanted to go on me own terms. Not like this, but. [He purses his lips and shrugs. Being stuck on a cruise ship on borrowed time is not bad at all, all things considered.]

You're not dead yet, love. Another day you 'ave 'ere is another 'fuck you' to all those cunts who'll want to see you put down, eh?

[Johnny recognizes both the style of clothing Brickston's wearing (perhaps a tad old-fashioned by his standards, but nothing wildly unacceptable), and the posh tone of voice. Here's someone more similar to him than anyone else he's seen so far--though Johnny's certainly no noble, and he has an accent that comes from no place Brickston's heard of, most likely. Alternate histories do mess with accents.]

Quite a surprise, waking up here. I won't say I didn't need a vacation, but this doesn't feel like the one I'd have tried to take.

How many hot Burberry models does she know? Come on now. Nobody pulls off a trenchcoat like John bloody Constantine, eh?

"I shower plenty, with plenty of company, but I still can't get the stink of your dusty, mouldy cunt off of skin." Nevermind the ghosts - John and Lilith are more likely to burn this haunted vessel down before the spirits have torn it apart.

"What does he have to say about you, skiving off around 'ere? Shouldn't you be sucking 'is cock?"

The thought has kind of occurred to him. He didn't give it much thought, he hasn't had the spare brain power between panic to think that hard about it beyond "oh god no", but the number of people here asking for a name has at least made it cross his mind that he ought to pick one.

It's just... hard. So he just gives a helpless little shrug. "Seems like a big decision." He hardly knows who or what he wants to be, let alone what name to put on that.

[ At "too easy," Giselle's lips twitch in dry amusement. ]

Yes, well. If you have the opportunity to stack the deck, I suppose only a fool passes it up. [ On a related note: ] I didn't have time to pack a bag before I found myself here, unfortunately.

[ Vampire drama. It's so inconvenient. One moment you're enjoying your evening out, the next you're running for your afterlife because somebody showed up at somebody else's club at an inopportune moment and delivered some inopportune words. ]

That seems like a lot of options. And he has no idea what some of them are.(Why does "vegetarian" make him think "Beans for breakfast, beans for supper, and oh boy, beans for dinner!"?)

So he just kind of slides a helpless look at Constantine and says, "I just. Mostly eat what I can find." It's only been three days that he's had to worry about feeding himself, man. Trash cans behind restaurants are his friends.

That is entirely up for debate, whether he actually pulls off that stinking coat.

"Oh, you are just as foul as ever I see. Here I was hoping you'd grown a bit. You can stop pretending like you haven't wanted another round any time at all, John." Speaking of ghosts - where are they when you need another well-timed coconut thrown? How disappointing.

"I arrived with the same note you did, I'm sure. It isn't as if I can ring Lucifer up and ask him. Don't be a dolt."

That's only the first three things that came to mind. There'll be ninety seven other options in the various eateries. The only thing more overwhelming than being dragged along somewhere is going to be the number of choices when you're standing in the middle of a buffet.

"Right. Charity diet, eh? I left 'ome when I was young, slept at a fair number of bus stops. I know what that's like. You're sticking with me for a couple meals. We'll try a wee bit o' everything until we find what you like - starting with a medium-rare steak." Craig looks like a steak might make him a little happier.

"I'm gonna leave you at the safety briefing for a wee bit, alright? Think you can stay for ten minutes while they talk you through everything?"

She doesn't need to tell him for him to know that she loves the coat. It's okay - everyone loves the coat.

"Who'd want to have any rounds with you?" he asks, casually leaning back to avoid a lawn chair singing past her and then him.

"Piss off you wanker! Mummy and daddy are busy," he snaps at the apparition that's trying to come between their true love. It would be so inconvenient if she got knocked out and he can't get the last word in.

"What note? Can you even read?"

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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2

Brickston | Blades in the Dark (oc) [cw: drug mention]

Isabela Madrigal | Encanto

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unplanned vacay

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cw cancer

1. Arrival

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