sailmods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sailmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-08-12 01:46 am
sailmods) wrote in come_sailaway2022-08-12 01:46 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- arcane: ekko,
- arcane: jinx,
- changeling the lost: giles,
- changeling the lost: oswald wuthridge,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- far cry 5: deputy pratt,
- far cry new dawn: sharky boshaw,
- fe3h: dimitri alexandre blaiddyd,
- groundhog day musical: phil connors,
- interview with the vampire: claudia,
- lavender jack: honoria crabb,
- lavender jack: johnny summer,
- mcu: ava starr,
- mcu: marc spector,
- mcu: steven grant,
- original: aiden copeland,
- original: lucas kovach,
- original: ylva wolfsdottir,
- overwatch: bastion e54,
- overwatch: maximilien,
- prodigal son: malcolm bright,
- rwby: ruby rose,
- sherlock holmes: john watson,
- skulduggery pleasant: skulduggery,
- tales of the abyss: jade curtiss,
- tales of vesperia: rita mordio,
- the 100: clarke griffin,
- the locked tomb: palamedes sextus,
- the umbrella academy: klaus hargreeves,
- westworld: maeve millay
AUGUST EVENT: DRAGSTRIP RIOT
[it begins with a PA announcement on the morning of the 12th, Friday’s voice coming through clear and cheerful.]
Any passengers that wish to debark to our latest port of call can exit the ship through the metal detectors on deck zero! Please be advised that all alcohol will be confiscated prior to your exit!
[and whoever heads down to the lowest deck will find that what she said was true: there is a metal detector set up there, with Friday manning it. after placing all metal objects (including weapons, and all your weapons) onto the tray, she gestures for the passenger to step through the metal detector.
they exit in an entirely different location. suffering from a splitting headache, and wearing an entirely different outfit than they had put on this morning, but unscathed. they even got their weapons back!
the interior of the diner is essentially your average jonathan rockets establishment. the narrow lane between booths and counter is manned by an entirely mute Friday clone, who cheerily takes orders and serves up food (cooked??? somewhere???) with an almost unnatural talent for roller blading. there is a jukebox in the corner that can be fed with quarters passengers will inexplicably find on their person. the available songs range from the 50s to the 80s, with a particularly wide selection of songs from the platters.
outside, the diner is a great chrome boxcar, circled by a small parking lot. a large neon sign proclaims it to be GIL’S; it buzzes and flickers on and off often. passengers who have regained vehicles will find these vehicles parked outside. there are also a handful of midcentury American cars; none of them seem to require keys, and the gas tank seems set at full.
past the parking lot is a seemingly endless expanse of desert sand and scrubland, bisecting by the empty highway that the diner abuts. a few miles down this highway, the road forks into a smaller one, which winds its way up a steep, ragged mountain until plateauing into another parking lot, with only a small, old wooden fence between the cars and the edge of the cliff.
should they wish to return to the ship, passengers can leave at any time the same way they entered: walking through a doorway that now claims to be a mop closet. passing through will leave them on deck zero, again with a splitting headache. it’s probably fine.]
Any passengers that wish to debark to our latest port of call can exit the ship through the metal detectors on deck zero! Please be advised that all alcohol will be confiscated prior to your exit!
[and whoever heads down to the lowest deck will find that what she said was true: there is a metal detector set up there, with Friday manning it. after placing all metal objects (including weapons, and all your weapons) onto the tray, she gestures for the passenger to step through the metal detector.
they exit in an entirely different location. suffering from a splitting headache, and wearing an entirely different outfit than they had put on this morning, but unscathed. they even got their weapons back!
the interior of the diner is essentially your average jonathan rockets establishment. the narrow lane between booths and counter is manned by an entirely mute Friday clone, who cheerily takes orders and serves up food (cooked??? somewhere???) with an almost unnatural talent for roller blading. there is a jukebox in the corner that can be fed with quarters passengers will inexplicably find on their person. the available songs range from the 50s to the 80s, with a particularly wide selection of songs from the platters.
outside, the diner is a great chrome boxcar, circled by a small parking lot. a large neon sign proclaims it to be GIL’S; it buzzes and flickers on and off often. passengers who have regained vehicles will find these vehicles parked outside. there are also a handful of midcentury American cars; none of them seem to require keys, and the gas tank seems set at full.
past the parking lot is a seemingly endless expanse of desert sand and scrubland, bisecting by the empty highway that the diner abuts. a few miles down this highway, the road forks into a smaller one, which winds its way up a steep, ragged mountain until plateauing into another parking lot, with only a small, old wooden fence between the cars and the edge of the cliff.
should they wish to return to the ship, passengers can leave at any time the same way they entered: walking through a doorway that now claims to be a mop closet. passing through will leave them on deck zero, again with a splitting headache. it’s probably fine.]
no subject
You're familiar and knowledgeable about cars, right? He says I could ask advice from others with cars, if they could possibly know about cures as well. [ yes, max had smacked him away but here he goes to grasp at max's sleeve again, for once not trying to be annoying but just frantic. ]
I can't turn into a car! I don't know how to drive!
[ ........ his reasoning skills have been turned off from panic. ]
no subject
[He stares at Venti blankly, which, he doesn't have facial expressions so that's kind of all his staring, but this is even more so, the white diodes of his eyes boring into Venti who appears to have gone insane in the last hour or so.]
Skulduggery said what? And you need to...
[It clicks.
Suddenly and almost audibly everything he knows about Skulduggery comes together in one brilliant and beautiful moment and it takes literally all his willpower to not laugh so hard that he snaps himself in half.
Instead he makes a sound like he's clearing his throat, trying to look stern.]
How terrible! You didn't touch the car did you? Because there may be no help for you if that's the case.
[Oh he is dying inside there is no way he can keep this up. This is absolutely hysterical and he's going to break in a few minutes.]
no subject
max and skully are his only hope!!! ]
Don't say there's no help, there has to be a cure right?! Skulduggery said I could... I could drink sixty pints perhaps, but there's no alcohol in this diner. Maybe I should go back through the portal and start drinking? What am I to do!
[ if he were any shittier he would burst into tears, this is nightmare fuel for him. ]
no subject
[Oh that is so stereotypically Irish of him. ]
Well let's reason this out shall we? I think if you drink sixty pints you'll likely die of alcohol poisoning which yes, would cure the curse but is probably not the ideal solution to your problem.
[He folds his arms and drums his fingers against his suit. The picture of being lost in thought and contemplating Venti's tragic fate. What should he suggest that Venti do that seems believable for curing turning into a car. Hmm. ]
How fast can you run? Perhaps if you beat the car in a race it will be so ashamed that it will undo the curse. You'd only be even faster if you turned into one, so it wouldn't want that at all.
no subject
I'm not great at running but I can fly, as I've told you. If I have to race on foot, I'll surely lose! But if on wing, I should be able to win!
So should I really challenge that cursed car...?!
[ he seems oddly intimidated at the very idea of going back to face it, let alone declare a contest against it. as if it could double-curse him for having the gall to do so. ]
no subject
[Max cannot believe he is talking about the Bentley like it did any of these things. He's going to have to apologize to the car later.]
Perhaps you should do both? Just in case.
[Or he just wants to see Venti fly drunkenly. Probably that.]
What do you mean you're not human? You're, [He gestures with both hands indicating the silhouette of a person.] shaped like one, fleshy, annoying and overly concerned with death.
[Humans 101 with Maximilien.]
no subject
[ he wishes he knew curative spells or anything else to lift this. ]
So, in any case, your suggestion is to race it... mm, I'll try just that. [ well he won't, because not too much time later shit will truly go down, but he appreciates the help. ] Too much is on the line for me to fail. Thank you, Mr Maximilien!
no subject
Do let me know how it goes. I think you have a solid chance of beating this curse. [Or a 100% chance of beating it since it doesn't exist.] Good luck.