Captain on deck

[bathymetric]

At the stroke of midnight, amidst the burst of dozens of colorful lights in the sky, the device in your pocket rumbles faintly with a reminder to head down to the theatre. You wouldn't want to leave your captain or first mate hanging, would you?

The doors have finally unlocked, and as you head in, you find... a rather nicely decorated little theater. The red curtains obscuring the big screen draw back, revealing three simple words in huge font.

Have a seat.

As soon as everyone is seated, the lights dim, leaving the group in almost complete darkness until the big screen flares to life. Jaunty music starts to pour in through speakers surrounding the room as the big screen plays clips of grand cruise liners sailing through sunny tropics.

"Atlantic Liners," says a voice, slightly automated to a discerning ear but definitely male. "We look to the future while remembering the past. That's why even our top of the line ships carry that nineties charm while having the best luxuries money can buy."

How charming and debonair. But isn't this commercial trying to... sell you on a cruise you're already on?

"Hey there, passengers! It's me, your lovable captain of the SS Swift. How is everyone doing tonight on this fabulous New Year's day?"

Is the voiceover referring to you? Well, that just raises further questions.

"I'd like to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for joining me tonight as we cruise through these lovely Atlantic seas. And to welcome you all, not just to our eventual destination in the Bahamas, but also..."

The screen flashes, switching from soft sunsets to harsh, burning flames.

"To your doom!"

One second passes. Two. Three.

"...Your doom!"

Has it been a minute? Does anyone have a watch?

"Your doo-Okay, that should have been cue for the ceiling-mounted flamethrowers. Why are they not charbroiled by now? Can you tell me that much? No? Fantastic. You're useless."

A sigh, clearly frustrated. Without a speck of that earlier charm. The lights in the theatre rise back to clearly visible levels. 'TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES' pops up on the big screen with a picture of a monkey wearing a hard hat next to a burning television.

"Okay, this is just as awkward for me as it probably is for you, ssssso! Questions? Concerns? Anyone tried the margaritas yet?"

Comments

[jibunwo]

Your intimidation tactics need work.

[if he was in charge the flamethrowers would have at least sparked a little.]

[bathymetric]

"Thanks, yup. That's really what I need right now. Stomping on my feelings like this."

[scouserer]

[Huh. The Bahamas. Constantine watches this display with an unreadable expression. He doesn't have any immediate questions--waiting for the others to draw attention to themselves before he makes his move--but he can't let the margarita comment go unnoticed. He stands up, hands shoved into his pockets.]

Uh, hi, yes. John Constantine, you clearly know me since you went through the trouble of making a bloody dating profile for me. [He clasps his hands together, pausing for a moment.] First off, your margaritas suck. Nobody wants a virgin cocktail on New Years Eve, mate.

[bathymetric]

Hey! Yeah! Finally, someone notices the profiles.

Second, sorry about the cocktails. There's a whole Thing about alcohol and some of you being minors and... whatever the robot is. Trust me, I'd bust out the booze right now, if I could.

[sharddrive]

[From somewhere near the back-]

This is a real low point, Doc!

[bathymetric]

Your opinion is appreciated- Yadda yadda.

Also I'm not a doc.

[queceracera]

[Scott actually raises his hand.]

Did Gideon send you? This seems like a lot of effort just to kill me.

[bathymetric]

I want you to take a good long look around you and think for a second, "is this all just for me? ALL of this?"

[sivard]

[Zaveid just... looks around extremely confused.]

Is this a joke?

[bathymetric]

Nah, the joke's on me for thinking I was working with people that know what they're doing.

[hellahighwater]

[ ...How is no one asking...real questions— ]

Okaaay, hi, sure, I'll try this out. Uhhh, where is this? [ ............ ] And does it have anything to do with the like, laws of the universe and destiny or something? 'Caause I thought I knew what was going on like, maybe forty minutes ago, but...

[ Chloe how do you consider this...an actual question... ]

This isn't time jail?

[bathymetric]

THIS is a really, really crappy murder attempt. Created by assholes that will soon be out of a job.

I mean, if we want to get all philosophical or whatever, I guess the universe likes dumping shit on me like this. Never heard of a 'time jail' though. What is that? Some kind of drug?

[guffawsungraciously]

...

Did you... truly put this all this utter nonsense together to murder a group of strangers, or...

[bathymetric]

Would you believe me if I hoped you'd be dead before I heard that question?

[scythegun]

Quick question for you, Captain! Why, exactly, do you want to kill us all?

[Like sure, he can think of many reasons why people may want to kill him but like. Why shove him on a boat first.]

[bathymetric]

Good question!

Next question!

[bonesorter]

[Lorna has no idea what a flamethrower is or god forbid the fact that even just having a television screen showing images and speakers talking to you is apparently supposed to be normal so... yeah, she is very confused with what's going on and what's being said.]

I don't understand. What... what exactly are you trying to do with us here?

[bathymetric]

Uhhh, I was trying to incinerate all of you with flames? Burn you to a crisp?

That reminds me, we've got some great fried shrimp around here.

[paucipan]

[...What the actual fuck is this. This is so much already and she's barely gotten her bearings on the ship, what the fuck.]

Wow. I almost have to applaud how pathetic your efforts are to see us dead! Really, I almost want to cry tears of sympathy.

[ah yes, it's clearly time to engage in turbo bitch mode, i'm so sorry]

So, was that all the point of this, then? Some fancy, disgusting little exploit to just kill a bunch of people, or what?

[bathymetric]

[We're all disappointed.]

Yeah, I'm not too pleased with the builders of this trap either. I'm probably going to have a little chat with them later.

[Something in that tone is just dripping with malice.]

Well, part one was getting you all gathered together to then kill you. But clearly that didn't happen. So, good job. Not dying, I guess.

[hypnowhip]

[You know what, this might as well be happening.

After blinking through the several murder attempts, Sylvando shakes his head.]

Darling, you really need to test your equipment before a performance. This is very embarrassing.

[bathymetric]

I swear to god, this never happens to me. Usually all my murders go off without a hitch.

I'm genuinely pretty disappointed in this. And maybe a little in myself, but mostly other people.

[magycks]

Woof.

[ There's like a good ten seconds of silence while she waits for someone to do something that's not roasting the Captain. ]

... Right, so. Is anyone going to volunteer to put him out of his misery, or are we drawing straws?

[scouserer]

I vote we push him over the side of the ship.

[onlyyoucan]

[She jumps to her feet, eyes fixed up at the screen, and then, as everything falls flat... stares.]

...what just happened?

[bathymetric]

Disappointment.

You should probably get used to that.

[wheremst]

[ Well. That sure was. Something? No, actually, that was nothing. ]

You'll be shocked to know I don't know what to say, Captain. Usually I have to actually bother to stop people who try to attack me.

[bathymetric]

Yeah, well I don't know what to say either, miss San Francisco.

Keep yucking it up while you're enjoying your new home.

[cethflayn]

[Oh Goddess, more people - more unfamiliar people, more interesting people who look interesting but are also unfamiliar, and-]

Goodness!

[Flayn absolutely jumps in her seat and clings to the back of the chair once the screen flickers to life, because what in the world is this? Where's that voice coming from? Doom? Doom??? Margaritas? What's a margaritas? Sweet Sothis what is happening]

I-If you are trying to frighten me, you have done your job - now can you please stop it?

[bathymetric]

Nah, I didn't want to frighten you. That wasn't my intention.

I just wanted to give you all a quick and painless death. Well, mostly painless, I think.

[thisaroma]

[ Well, wherever Alice is, he's tagging along with her, and gallantly leaps in front of her as soon as the screen flashes!! ]

Stand back, Alice-!!

[ ...Hm. Okay, that was pretty anticlimactic, though he's not complaining about it. Still going to keep shielding her just in case, though!!!

And once some other questions have been asked— ]

Why go to the trouble of bringing us, specifically?

[ Like, a) why even make profiles if you're just going to immediately murder everyone, and b) LET ALICE GO ]

[bathymetric]

You know, it's not really all about you specifically. It's mostly about me.

I wanted you all here specifically to burn you to death, but that's not happening today. Unless the flamethrowers want to suddenly START WORKING!





Nope.

[silentscout]

It's June.

[Lalli that's not a question.]

And I'm not going to the Bahamas. I'm supposed to be in Finland.

[bathymetric]

Uh no, it's New Year's. Did you see all the decorations? The fireworks?

Buddy, if you wanted to go to Finland, you got on the wrong cruise.

[ahelpingpaw]

[When the Captain said they'd be incinerated, Filbo loudly mutters a 'ugh, not fire again!', implying it's not the first time he has been set on fire. He braced himself, covering his flammable sash with his arms the best he could.

But nothing happened.

Uhuh. Well he's not going to wait around to be murdered via sustained flamethrower, so he better ask things nice and fast]

So...can we leave now? And preferably not to the Bahamas? I kinda cannot afford the time to go on vacation.

[bathymetric]

Oh c'mon, who can't afford to go on vacation? Besides poor people and... Uh, you, I guess.

But don't worry about payments. Everything on this cruise is one hundred percent free!

1/2

[bathymetric]

[ After this comment from The Captain, the air in the whole of the theatre goes stale and thick.

Step. Thump.

The ship groans, and it groans the sound of strained wood, not steel and glass.

Step. Thump.

The scent of seawater fills the air, stinging eyes and noses.

Step. Thump.

From somewhere, far away, you could swear you hear a woman's voice calling out, but it's too muffled. It sounds like the sharp tones of an old music box, somehow.

STEP. THUMP.

The door to the theatre opens. ]

[thekeyofsea]

[ Davy Jones, the First Mate, is here. ]

Ahoy, passengers!

[ He looks about the room, takes a moment to light a pipe. ]

Now, tell me true...

[ The atmosphere reaches a breaking point. ]

...Do ye fear death?

[thekeyofsea]

[ And, once conversation has quieted down - Davy Jones will clear his throat. ]

That will be all for ye lot tonight! Make yerselves comfortable, enjoy yer new accommodations, and if ye need to speak with me again, to ask questions or requisition additional supplies... this be where I'll make myself available.

[ The door to the theatre snaps open. ]

If ye wish to go, ye are dismissed.

[sharddrive]

[Raising a hand]

I do have one quick question, actually.