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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Phaenan paused for a moment, taking in what the human was saying. Evidently he was already a resident here, talking about 'the same explanation we all got'. He took a breath, a fresh plume of smoke curling from his nostrils. He could probably keep thrashing, see if he couldn't break through one of the walls, but he was in over his head with whatever strange magic was keeping him here, and without his wizardly companion to dispel it, he was clearly not going to be able to overcome it. He gave the nearest wall a shove with his shoulder, before finally dispersing the smoke with another breath.

"No point in prolonging this humiliation, then. You have my apologies- I dislike showing the flames of my temper to those who aren't my foes. I'd ask you directions, but it seems I'd be better served by simply walking."

"I can walk up to the deck with you. No problem either way, really." His gaze follows the smoke. "Wonder if you'll be told to keep that to the casino or Tauva. We're not suppose to smoke outside of there."

"They're welcome to try and stop me. I go where I please, when my foes aren't cheating with magic."

He laughed, deep and throaty. He dipped into a flourished bow before setting off, letting the vague sense of being guided direct him to where he needed to go.

"I of course need no introduction, but what may I call my oddly-dressed shepherd, for this occasion?"

"I think you might need an introduction--I have no clue who, or even what you are. I'm Johnny Summer, though. I've been here for a few weeks now."

He glances down at the dinner suit with its white jacket that he's wearing. "And this is hardly odd, where I'm from."

Phaenan wrinkled his nose up a bit. He was fairly used to having his reputation precede him, but he supposed there were some backwaters in Ve'golo and such that the circus hadn't been to yet. He cleared his throat,

"Well, what and who I am are somewhat of the same question- you may call me Phaenan the Magnificent, the Golden Dragon of Archibald Thorne's travelling circus, champion of the small and defender of the weak, triumphant over Wezgul the mighty, Daelart the wicked, and Ozgroc the Bull of Minrekka. I was found by Archibald as an egg, when he uncovered a mysterious chest from a river-"

If Johnny doesn't stop him, he will keep going.

"Right, and what part of that do I call you conversationally? That's a bit of a mouthful, I'm sure you realize."

And none of the names signify to him at all. And that probably shows.

"Phaenan the Magnificent, or just Phaenan if you must,"
He replied, a little deflated.

"Has there been any indication of when we'll be able to leave? I've my own issues and responsibilities to attend to, not to mention the havoc this will wreck on my performance schedule."

"None of us have been allowed to leave. Also, we're all from different worlds--that's why I don't know anything about you. Just like you wouldn't recognize place names from my world, I'm sure."

They're almost to the right part of the deck for the drill.

I. Researching...

[ Admittedly, Senku is confused at the moment. That doesn't necessarily mean anything, for that happened every so often but he wasn't terribly a fan. He was looking at a new puzzle. He hasn't removed the lei thrown carelessly over his neck, and he seems to be looking at...a vacation?

An unexpected one that he hadn't planned. Huh.

He might look a bit out of place, considering he was wearing the clothing of a scientific researcher, labcoat and all. The only thing that might be out of place, aside from the ridiculous lei, was the tattered cape that remained clasped on his shoulders. For a man who looks about thirty and is far beyond that in chronological age, if anyone needed a vacation, it was him. He looks tired, like he's been working too hard. ]

How did I get here exactly? [ That seems to be the most pressing issue. And more to the point, did anyone else know how they got there? ]

Hey! [ Social niceties from Senku can still be somewhat mixed. ] How did you come to be on this ship? Give me all of the details.

[ Somewhere in his world Gen is crying and doesn't know why. ]

II. Analyzing...

[ Okay well, an unknown vacation of unknown origin. Nothing is presently on fire, he's not doing anything particularly critical at the moment at home, nothing is waiting for him.

Did one of his friends do this as a prank, considering certain roommates complained about his work hours?

No matter. Vacation. Well that was just...something. He can't exactly go for a walk around Spain this time, he's confined to a ship that's seemingly in the middle of the ocean. Very funny prank, that. He supposes then that checking out the amenities wouldn't be amiss.

Senku looks like he belongs in the library, and he'll browse there a little bit, but probably he'll scout out the casino just to see what kinds of games are on offer, and what he could use to build currency. Card games weren't at all challenging to him.

Or maybe he's just raiding the buffet, looking at the offerings with a rather bland expression, like he's trying to decide between a few things he isn't sure he'll like. ]

"Different..?"

Like the faewilds? His brow knitted for a moment, the golden spikes distorting the fabric of his mask.

"I'm not sure I get your meaning-"

Phaenan noticed others converging at the spot where he felt himself drawn to, and quietly steeled himself for whatever lay ahead.

"Well. I hope to see you again, Johnny Summers. Perhaps if we truly are trapped here, I'll find an opportunity to prove the truth behind my title,"

With a wide, sharp grin, he flicked his cape aside and flexed an arm, the scales on his arm rippling and catching the light with the motion.

"I'm sure you'll hear more of me, regardless."

Johnny, he's just going to wait and watch the big gold guy through the drill and after he gets lei'd, approach again. Friendly-like.

"So, did that help you at all?"

"Not in the slightest,"

Phaenan fiddled with the lei, looking more confused than he had when Johnny left him.

"Is... people not having faces something that happens in other worlds? Everyone else that I saw seemed to have them, I think."

He seemed unsure as to whether he should take the lei off or leave it on.

"So... what now?"

"Yeah, no, the faceless dame is horrifying. I don't know what to make of her. But now, friend, the whole ship is open to you. Find a meal, see a show, make a friend. You can do just about anything--except leave. We don't get to leave." He glances out over the water. "Like I said, I've already been here for weeks."

Another wrinkle of his muzzle in displeasure.

"Is that really all? Just... food and entertainment? Is there really nothing else to do? Nowhere we can help?"

A small puff of smoke, thin as incense smoke.

"I suppose I ought to eat something, I feel weak. Have you eaten yet? I'm not sure I kept my coin-purse on me, but I'm sure I can drum up some gold fairly easily- I worked the side-show before I took up the main stage, you know."

"The money's not necessary--food's included in our 'vacation package'. As for help--we've been trying to figure out how we got here, how to get home. If you have any theories or ways of gathering information, that'll be help to us. I'm usually not much useful in those talks."

Except occasionally when he is. But he's not driven as Clarke or daring like Jinx or gifted with supernatural senses like Palamedes.

"I don't believe in a free lunch," he grumbled, but his performance costume didn't exactly have pockets, so there wasn't much of a way around it. If Phaenan was being honest, he hadn't even considered how he'd ended up here,he'd assumed it was something to do with magic, which was out of his realm of understanding. The bards of the circus had largely handled all of that.

"Well, then it looks like we're largely in the same- er, boat. Often I simply get pointed at things and told to hit them, when it's not a show. But don't feel too bad, I'm sure you have other talents."

He smiled supportively, as if he'd received this same talk a number of times.

"No," Palamedes answers without missing a beat. "Even if one could make them speak--which is possible, but would require an enormous amount of skill and power--they could only say exactly what you told them to. They would be puppets, in essence."

He makes a gesture with his free hand, and the skull seems to collapse in on itself, returning to its former shape. Pal pockets the bone shard. "A revenant could possess a construct, but the construct itself would only be a sort of vehicle. Even that would be tricky, though." Brightly, he adds, "I've been working on three different papers outlining the theoretical possibilities."

"Then. I am not comparable to a construct from your world."

Because it speaks and thinks laterally and all that jazz. But it still knows it's constructed. Built. Not a person like everyone else on the ship is.

Caught in his own train of thought and ready to launch into an explanation of the aforesaid papers, Palamedes is stopped short by the man’s curt reply.

“Of course, of course. I apologize,” he says sincerely. “Nomenclature aside, you are entirely different.” A pause, and then because it seems worth emphasizing at this juncture, “I’m pleased to have met you.”

"Are you?" It's sincerely surprised by that, looking at Palamedes with confusion.

After a moment, it looks away again. Down at the books. "What are you called? I think that's considered part of meeting someone, among humans, usually."

"Eh, I can swim," she says lightly, shrugging and adjusting her ankles around the support post. The fact that water at that height would act like concrete just meant she wouldn't have to swim for very long. She raked her fingers--also metal, like his, up to her elbows--through her bright blue hair as she watched him.

"Kind of a creepy ship, ain't it?"

“Of course.” The question surprises him—-but then, many things about this conversation have surprised him. “I don’t make a habit of prevaricating about things like that.”

He reaches his hand across to the cyborg. “Palamedes Sextus.”

"You can call me SecUnit or Rin." It takes the offered hand, careful not to grip too hard. Its fingers are metal covered with something meant to mimic the texture of skin--it's not quite right though, too stiff and too cold.

[ She sets her mind on getting to her goal, trying not to let the shaking of the floor scare her. Even when trying to run as fast as she can, she's still much slower than Levania. At a turn, she starts to slow down. A bit too much energy was put into that first stretch maybe.

Holding an arm up, one of the spheres bounces right off of her. Thankfully it's light. ]

I'm... I'm sure!

[ She insists! And she's panting already. Since when was the last time anyone has carried her... probably some time ago when she was really small, before her parents started arguing. ]

Come on.

[ In slower steps, she keeps going. Well, picking her up really would be much easier. But it doesn't sound like she's going to ask for it... ]

[Usually people rucking up his shirt is a much more fun and enjoyable experience than this, but hey, he's not gonna complain - y'know, aside from the involuntary hiss that escapes him when the fabric of his suit sticks to his skin as it's peeled away from the entry wound. He's not sure what exactly he got hit with, but considering the gun belonged to an alien-possessed cop, he's guessing it was probably a 9mm even though it fucking feels like a 40 S&W.]

[He doesn't get to speculate on calibers for long before the dull, throbbing ache in his back suddenly ignites, lighting up with a pain so sharp and hateful that it's a goddamn miracle he doesn't black out again from the sheer force of it. Instead he locks up, his whole body going rigid as his muscles tense, his boot scrabbling against the floor as his leg jerks with an uncontrolled spasm.]

-Jesus Christ!

[He knows applying pressure to stem the bleeding is a Good and Helpful thing, but it's hard to remember to be grateful when his thoughts are scrambled and his internal monologue has dissolved into white noise and violent swearing.]

[The mental fog recedes after a few seconds, but the pain doesn't - it's a constant, burning static under his skin, which normally he would complain about but it's doing a fantastic job of keeping him awake, and right now being conscious is more important than being comfortable.]

Yeah, okay, yeah - got it.

[He's not sure what he's got exactly, but he heard words and they sounded good and they came from someone who hasn't lost upwards of 30% of her total blood volume, so it's probably safe to defer to her authority. He just wishes she wasn't using her authority to make him get back up, because he's made such good friends with the floor and moving really isn't his favorite thing right now.]

[But no, she's already trying to help him up and Adrian is nothing if not a compulsive people-pleaser, so up he goes- or tries to go. It's a bit of a non-starter at first, because his body wants him to move even less than he does, but after a bit of persistent fumbling he's able to get his legs back under him and push himself upright - but not without Clarke keeping him steady and supporting a good portion of his weight.]

Hooookay, there we go, fuck-

[He's a little breathless, his voice tight and reedy.]

Not dying would be cool, but y'know...

[He pauses, needing a moment to gather his thoughts as the rest of the sentence escapes him. Walking has inexplicably become an activity that requires a lot more active deliberation on his part, and it's hard to do that and talk at the same time.]

I might be immortal, for all we know. I've never died before, so -[He pauses, throat bobbing as he swallows against a sudden wave of nausea.] - so there's not really any proof that I can.

[It would probably be easier to breathe (and subsequently easier to move) if he talked a little less, but Adrian has never been good at knowing when to shut the hell up.]

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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Senku Ishigami | Dr. Stone

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