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.

[sharddrive]

[From somewhere near the back-]

This is a real low point, Doc!

[queceracera]

[Scott actually raises his hand.]

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

[jibunwo]

If you wish to strike fear into the hearts of the innocent, I advise you not to bother. You're better served getting to the point of the purpose for all this. Surely you can not be foolish enough to have brought us all to such an elaborate setting merely to set us aflame.

[sivard]

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

Is this a joke?

[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]

Your opinion is appreciated- Yadda yadda.

Also I'm not a doc.

[sharddrive]

Fine, so what, one of the grandmasters? Naugus? Either way, this is pretty sad.

[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?"

[guffawsungraciously]

...

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

[bathymetric]

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

[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]

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.

[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?

[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]

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?

[bathymetric]

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

1/2

[queceracera]

[Scott literally looks around.]

[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.

[queceracera]

Well, obviously you want to kill all of us but like. Why, specifically? Really feels like I skipped a sidequest somewhere that would explain this.

[guffawsungraciously]

I... suppose that was the intent, from what I can gather, but this is all deeply, deeply idiotic, so you will have to forgive me for asking.

[scouserer]

It's very flattering. You even bothered to include my punk band on there.

[He's being sarcastic, of course. Constantine crosses his arms, tilting his head to the side.]

Have to say, though, as nice as tropical vacations are, I'm not a fan of being yanked from my home and being pulled into a cruise ship without my consent. You planning on showing your face anytime soon?

[sivard]

....What? You seriously kidnapped a bunch of people to act ridiculous at and then kill us?