TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[sailmods]

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.]

Comments

[lightconductor]

"Deucedly odd," Watson murmurs, but he's not about to argue with the results.

The sound of the water bottle squishing causes him to glance down, and he frowns a bit, because it's dawned on him that he has absolutely no idea what the bottle is made of. Frankly, there's a lot going on right now that he's not sure what it even is, and this is just one more thing in a long line of really strange things that is currently in process. "I thought that was glass, at first," he says, and shakes his head. "Later. Let's find you a place to sit."

Casually, he takes César by the elbow and steers him in the right direction.

[pineapplesalmon]

César's brow goes up slightly at that little murmur, having not heard something quite like that before (an oddity of itself).

That comment about being glass completely deletes their current task from his mind. You know. Needing food and water?

"Wait, you don't know what this is made out of? Plastic?" Thankfully, this distraction means he's imminently pliable to being led by the elbow, because his mind is now exploding with questions.

He's seen time travel work; he knows it's possible. The man seems to be dressed more old-fashioned and used some English that sounded... old? Wait. Wait a second.

"What year are you from? I'm from 2013."

[lightconductor]

"Is that what you call it, then?"

He's trying very much not to be distracted, because excuse you he has a patient here, but he does pause at being asked what year he's from. It's a very odd question, after all, the sort of thing out of a particularly fantastic yellow-backed novel, and the implications are a bit staggering.

"It was 1892," he says, without ceasing his attempt to steer César. There's some seating just a ways away, and that should do. "I admit that we might all be from different years had not occurred to me."

[pineapplesalmon]

"Yes, although that's the conventional name. There's a lot of different types of plastic..."

And that gets deleted from his brain, because Watson just said something mind-boggling fantastical. "1892? I suspected that whomever brought us here might be capable of time-travel, but it's amazing to hear my hypothesis might have actual merit. You're really from 1892?"

Thankfully, César is so distracted by this that he's not only forgotten he's supposed to be feeling terrible but he's so easily led that Watson could lead him into a wall, and he wouldn't stop in time.

[lightconductor]

"I am. And... 2013, good heavens."

Fortunately, Watson would never lead him into a wall, at least not on purpose. And he does have the gift of being single-minded when it suits him to be. "Here, sit down, try the water before you faint entirely away. Quite frankly, so much here is so strange to me that it hadn't occurred to me that it might not be equally strange for everyone else."

[pineapplesalmon]

"A lot has changed in over a century. You'd be surprised by how much." Then, his brain processes what their original task is. "Water? ... oh. Oh, riiiiight." He sits, because wow, he forgot he really doesn't feel that good.

The best way to keep himself from getting distracted further is to twist the cap off and starts chugging the water. He's, ah, experienced with water chugging. Look at him go.

[lightconductor]

"Careful, don't make yourself sick."

Watson's mouth twists in a thoughtful expression. "Given the advances of the past hundred years, I can only imagine that the century to come would bring even more drastic changes. I trust that medical advancement hasn't meant that regular food and drink isn't poor advice, at least." He gives a brief smile. "How... how normal does this place seem to you?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"Don't worry, I do this all the time," As in, César has to tank water whenever he remembers it; this is said when he pauses for a moment to catch his breath.

It also gives him time to consider that question. "... to be entirely honest, this is less technologically advanced than where I work now. It's perfectly normal if you get rid of the 'ghosts'." At least he looks sympathetic? "If you think this is advanced, wait until I pull out my phone."

[lightconductor]

"As in, telephone? You cannot expect me to believe--"

Watson stops himself, and shakes his head. "On the other hand, perhaps I should believe in something as outlandish as a telephone that you carry in your pocket." And yes, perhaps he's been given a smart phone of his own, but he doesn't recognize it as such. It's just a peculiar black slab of glass and metal that he can't make heads or tail of. And now, on a sudden whim or insight, he draws it out of one of his pockets and holds it out almost gingerly. "And this, then? If you tell me this is a telephone, I'm not sure I'll know what to say to that."

[pineapplesalmon]

It seems they have both forgotten the task at hand: feed and water César.

He's chuckling warmly instead, looking sympathetic through his amusement. "I'm afraid it is... Most things are instant or with a short delay, now. You can connect directly to someone without help from an operator. You can also send what are effectively instant telegrams. And..." César puts his water bottle aside and pulls out his new 'smart' phone, turning and pointing to a spot on the back. "See this, here? That's a camera lens. Photos are saved instantaneously to the device rather than having film that needs to be developed."

[lightconductor]

"Incredible," Watson says, with a disbelieving shake of his head. "I would never have... Now, see here. Water. Eat some of the nuts. We cannot get distracted on this matter, no matter how many other fabulous things might be in front of us."

There's a touch of his Stern Doctor Voice, there, which of course has a bit of Stern Army Surgeon mixed in. Just a bit.

"What does one do with a photograph that is on your telephone?" he asks. "What if you want it in a frame, or do people of 2013 not do that anymore?"

not a typo; GenRex renames all big companies

[pineapplesalmon]

The Stern Doctor Voice is adjacent to the Stern Parent Voice, for which César has a trained response. He sits up a bit straighter and puts away his phone, but it's the questions that almost distract him from taking up his water again. César manages a bit of a laugh.

"If we want me to eat and drink, we'll need to table this discussion until after." He pulls out his phone and speaks. "OK Goggle, set me a timer for eight minutes."

As he puts his phone back into one of his front pockets, it speaks in a woman's neutral voice: "OK, setting a timer for eight minutes."

Which means he can now reach for his water bottle again without worrying he'll forget to finish the conversation.

[lightconductor]

Oh. Oh, it talks. Watson's eyebrows raise in surprise, because it's not as if an object that small can hide a phonograph cylinder, but if César is the type to need to not be distracted in this situation, so be it.

"Then the conversation will wait," he agrees. "It won't be any less strange to me in eight minutes time."

[pineapplesalmon]

Not only that, but one that can adjust to say eight instead of just a generic response.

"Precisely." César takes up his water bottle and starts drinking. "Also, the bag of mixed nuts are another form of plastic." Back to drinking! Honest!

[lightconductor]

"Good to know. Apparently it's a very versatile material."

He sits back in his chair, trying to assess César's condition. There's probably some improvement already? Well, he'll make sure, either way.

"You really ought to not make a habit of this, you realise. There can't always be a convenient doctor passing by."

[pineapplesalmon]

"It's also a part of your phone." César adds.

He looks a bit guilty as he holds his hand out gently for the bag of mixed nuts. "I try not to. I have a medical condition that messes with my sense of time, especially if I get involved with something. Arriving here has thrown me completely off schedule, and the... part of my phone I use to track time is unavailable since it can't communicate with something back home."

[lightconductor]

He hands the nuts over, glad to have delivered them.

"Ah, I see. Rather like a man who needs a cane being without it. I understand." That's... difficult, and requires a solution. Watson taps his fingers against his knee, thinking. "Do you think we could approximate something similar for you here?"

[pineapplesalmon]

César puts the bottle down and takes the package with a quiet "thank you", ripping them open from a corner. He pauses and then pours some nuts into his hand. Those go into his mouth. Politeness is important.

At the question, he gestures with his package of nuts and looks amused, only speaking when he's finished the bite. "If I start discussing solutions, I'll forget these. But I sincerely appreciate your immediate understanding of the issue and your well-founded concern."

[lightconductor]

"Well, let us consider that subject later as well, then."

Watson settles back, crossing one leg over the other. "It merely occurs to me that we don't know each other nearly well enough for it to be appropriate for me to bother you constantly, but also I'd prefer if we didn't have to have this experience a second time." He grins, briefly.

[pineapplesalmon]

Look, a second mouthful of mixed nuts. We're on a roll, here. Oh, he's definitely remembering he's hungry now. He speaks at the end of that bite.

"Doctors can get away with it, even ones from the 19th century—Oh!" Out comes his phone again, the screen lights up from his movement, and he unlocks it by tapping the keypad that appears when he swipes up with his thumb. "Gray's Anatomy! I've got the 40th edition on my phone! I got it memorized! So much has changed and Iiiiiiiiiiiii've entirely forgotten about eating. Again."

Okay there's no time to pour those into his hand anymore to be polite, it's occupied, this next bite is getting dumped into his mouth. He taps his phone, swipes, the screen moves, and then he's tapping into something that looks like a list, tapping another thing, and then suddenly there's a phone being handed over to Watson you better grab hold of it because he's already ready to let go—

[lightconductor]

Watson makes a grab for the phone, automatically, and while he fumbles it a bit, he doesn't drop it either. "Gray's is still published? Truly? And you have it--"

He stops mid-sentence, and squints down at the phone screen with a degree of astonishment. "Good heavens, you really do have it on your telephone. Rather different from my old edition, of course."

Cautiously, he touches the screen, since that was how César had navigated through it, and soon finds out how to turn the "pages." "I suppose," Watson says doubtfully, "lending me your telephone is out of the question."

If he doesn't give a date, it's been discovered by Watson's time. JESUS, CÉSAR.

[pineapplesalmon]

"I can't leave you unsupervised around my phone, but I wouldn't mind giving you time to look at things over the course of however long you're here, and you may need context from me anyway. Also, Gray's Anatomy—they recently changed to a regional rather than systemic approach," César is barely resisting from leaning in too close. "There was a bit of a hullabaloo over that, but it works better for most people. It's impossible to contain the explosion of information we've achieved now within one book, so they've tried to keep it readable by students. There's been so many medical advancements that have saved so many lives. The mold penicillin; the first antibiotic that could kill bacteria causing infections like pneumonia, gonorrhea, or rheumatic fever. We've eliminated smallpox entirely, and we've got polio on the run!"

César's gesturing with his hands shakes the mixed nuts. He takes another mouthful and tries to chew them up as quickly as possible, obviously categorizing other advancements in his head.

"We also have vaccines for Diphtheria, Tetanus, Pertussis, Measles, Mumps, Rubella, Chicken Pox, and so, so many more. Hormones—they were discovered in 1902, they're a class of signaling molecules in multicellular organisms used within the body for communication—which lead to the discovery of Insulin in 1921—we no longer simply have to starve diabetics, we can treat them! Children mortality has plummeted, life expectancy has soared."

Apparently, this is something very, very close to César's heart. The number of lives saved. And that's a third mouthful, we're on a roll.

"Global youth mortality, under 15s, was 46.2%, and infants, 26.9%. They're now under 5% and 3%, respectively. Some advanced countries like Iceland, they're under .3% and .2%, respectively. We're rare burying babies and children, Doctor Watson. They live. Two babies become two children become two adults."

Shake, shake, right, another mouthful. FAST MUST CHEW but thoroughly for proper digestion. Wow, nuts are dry, okay. Oh hey he needs a drink so he can talk and not start coughing. Back to what's important.

"Organ transplants; cancer treatments; hormone replacement therapies; physical therapy for recovery; advancements in the care of burns, heart defects, bone fractures, seizures, all sorts of wounds-"

More nuts, drink more to wash it down.

César nearly chokes on the water, his eyes widening a bit. "X-rays! X-rays were discovered in 1895! You can see bones, pneumonia, heart failure, and so, so much more in a two dimensional image. They're the oldest form of medical imaging. Some newer medical imaging technologies forms can create three dimensional images. DNA, deoxyribonucleic acid, work in the 1940s proved that is the source of genetic information, not proteins. It duplicates itself. You get half from the father, half from the mother. Darwin's theory of natural selection is indeed how the world works...."

It's then, finally, that he catches himself. He laughs. There's a light to him that was hidden before.

"Perhaps I ought to have written that all down. Rambling and topic switches, thoughts colliding, it's a part of my diagnosis—the DSM! The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the 5th one just came out. We treat people with mental illness, mental disorders, and learning disabilities so much better now. Insane Asylums are not a thing. No. We help people with medication and-or therapy." Another laugh. "There's still some access issues in regards to mental health, but we're heading in the right direction there, too...."

A pause. "Hmm. I will definitely need to write all of this down...."

[lightconductor]

This is obviously... a lot... to take in, but Watson listens to it with increasing amazement. Not all of it makes perfect sense, rattled off in this haphazard way without context he lacks, but enough is clear that it sounds downright miraculous.

"I don't even know what to say," he murmurs. "I don't know where to begin. It sounds as though in my time, we are on the verge of a great many breakthroughs. My god, ten years ago I nearly died of enteric fever in Afghanistan, and it quite ruined me, and it's only in the years since that we've really confirmed that a bacillus is the cause, but with these antibiotics... It would never have been so severe."

Would he have been sent back to the front, in that case? Perhaps. He would never have met Holmes, if so.

"And the eradication of smallpox! That is the dream of variolation, and to know it will be successful is incredible. And then to turn that on other diseases, all the little things that kill so many children. We can treat diabetes? Truly?"

Not knowing what to say, Watson runs a hand over his forehead. "I can scarcely imagine, but it sounds amazing."

[pineapplesalmon]

César has to remember it's new name. "Typhoid Fever... Afghanistan is unfortunately still underdeveloped, but you might not have gotten it in the first place even there. Access to clean water, basic sanitation, and good hygiene has increased across the globe. But antibiotics would have greatly reduced its severity. And yes, we can treat diabetes! It is a pain to manage, but far better than the death sentence it once was."

Drink, eat, okay. Moving around reminds him because the things are in his hands. Hey, he even almost has both finished, now?

"As for children... there's a standard regimen of vaccines they get now in most countries. They get antibodies—cells that protect from disease—from their mothers' breast milk to start. Most of the regimen starts at two months and continues from there. Vaccines remain effective, but we are having some issues with antibiotic resistance from them over-prescribed or courses not completed. They still work well for most bacterial infections, but we're trying to stay ahead of the game."

"It is nothing short of miraculous." César agrees. "Made through the hard work and dedication of so many people."

He brightens again. "Maternal death rates have also plummeted in most of the world. We monitor women throughout their pregnancies and they now take prenatal vitamins that help further reduce fetal abnormalities. There's even been instances of the baby being operated on successfully while still in the womb. Things aren't perfect, and there are a number of countries that still have poor access to care, but things are improving across the board."

[lightconductor]

"Considering I was already in hospital and rather weak when the fever swept through, I imagine proper sanitation would have done much to prevent a great deal of death."

Distantly, he wants a cigarette, to help him think. Damn these no smoking signs everywhere. Still, the lives that could have been saved -- Mary, perhaps, but that's a painful track to start along.

"You mentioned this... DSM. A guidebook to all the illnesses that might befall a man's mind, as another book might outline how to treat conditions of the body? Now, that is a fascinating concept. To cure or treat someone rather than lock him away as something his family should be ashamed of. And you admit your own classification under this to me, very much still a stranger, as though it were nothing at all." Watson shakes his head. "I won't tell you that you ought to be ashamed, but I admit it surprises me. I've known men with... weaknesses, shall we say, that make their lives difficult, but other than turning to drink, or opium, or cocaine, they have little in the way of support."