come_sailaway | Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Entry tags:

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Who: Ava Starr & Whoever (6, Maximilien, Skulduggery, and ota)
What: recovery, lowkey double birthday, possible confrontations
When: end of December, very beginning of January
Where: mostly her room, the casino, library & coffee shop
Warnings: discussions of excursion killings

i. Why, who me, why?
closed to 6

Ava wakes with an airless gasp, a phaseshift jerk right out of her own body. Panicked fingers clutch at her midsection where her clothing remains sliced through even though her body is confirmed back in one piece... A delayed reaction to getting bisected by a wall she never made it all the way through, a desperate attempt to lead the evil shadow out and away. Away from Peter.

Peter. "Peter," Ava cries out, terrified.

ii. Feet don't fail me now, take me to your finish line
closed to Maximilien

She keeps worriedly asking about Max's whereabouts, until at some point he's there. And Ava doesn't quite manage the hug she's going in for but collapses against him in greeting. Grateful for how solid and steady his metal frame is, as she continues to tremble. "Can you... stay with me for awhile?" Her voice is barely above a whisper, but she knows his hearing is good enough she won't have to raise it.

iii. Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take
ota

From the first day she awakes, to the end of the year, there's no sign of Ava outside of her cabin. All her meals, the little she's willing to eat, she has brought to her by Peter. She doesn't want to go out, doesn't want to face what's out there. Or who and all their opinions and rage and blame. But she doesn't want to be alone either, even though she's sure there's very few people that want to see her. And Undine's gone now. Gone gone, now that she can no longer lie to herself about how maybe the girl had simply chosen to stay behind as if it were part of her journey to be normal. This is no place to be normal. Not if you want to survive.

She curls up with her puzzle book with very little motivation to do much else, blocking out all the thoughts she doesn't feel emotionally capable of handling right now. And picks through her gift basket, touched at how thoughtful Sharky and Pratt were to think of her. If there's a knock at her door, it may take a moment for her to shake off the daze, shake off the nervousness of answering it.

iv. But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine
closed to Skulduggery

There's a growing crack of worry, splintering through her nerves the longer she goes without hearing from Skulduggery, the days blurring into each other and she has no real conscious awareness of how long it's actually been. Has the Captain failed in bringing him back? If so, she'd half expect reality to screech to a stop, or the ship to sink, or some tangible despair hanging in the air as she peers through the window of her room before pulling the curtains back tightly. That's the small hope she clings to.

Contact comes first in the form of a text, an apology and an offer to meet. Holding her phone is a chore, but with trembling fingers she sends a 'yes' and hopes that single word is enough to communicate how badly she needs to see him.

She's manages a shower, damp hair pulled back and dressed in a clean pair of sweats, trying to pull herself together enough that maybe he won't be able to tell how shaken up she is. And of course the earrings he'd gifted her, that did not work as advertised. But a very quiet indicator to let him know where her heart still lies, even if words fail her.

When there's finally a knock, Ava answers the door she's been nervously hovering by, after failing several times to grasp at the handle. And immediately starts tearing up at seeing the familiar ~~face~~ skull of her best friend.

v. Walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design?
closed to Maximilien and Skulduggery

The timing is even worse than her own birthday after the Halloween massacre, really, but this little get together late in the evening of the 31st (Skulduggery's birthday) and the customary countdown change over to the new year (Maximilien's manufacture date) is something that she's been looking forward to all month because the timing of that is too good. And a good opportunity for the three of them to be together again, despite the circumstances. They're her best friends, and it feels more important than ever for them to stick together in the aftermath.

So she dresses in her white suit, hair styled sleek, carrying her unopened bottle of Maximilien's finest Don Rumbotico because it's finally a special enough occasion. And for the first time since returning, Ava steps out of her cabin and heads straight to the casino. "Hello, gentlemen," she joins them at the poker table, her mood subdued but still far better than it's been.

vi. I feel so alone on a Friday night
ota

For the first week of January, Ava barely ventures out of her room. When she does, it's with the energy of a stray cat hiding behind the dumpster, skitterish at every sudden movement and sound. Which doesn't seem too unusual. But anyone that's seen her around the last few months might notice a few key differences. She isn't casually floating about anymore, but feet dragging. And she's no longer taking shortcuts through the walls, stopping short of them, awkwardly fumbling through doors instead.

Back at the mutiny meeting, she had come out strong and clear on her support for Skulduggery, his plan to save everyone even if she had always felt that it was too heroic. It hadn't swayed anyone, probably only served to strengthen their resolve against her perspective, because she's never been able to convince anyone of much anything at all. She pointedly avoids the gaze of anyone in that meeting now. There's no challenge, no sneaking into any secret meetings that may or may not be occurring. No going out of her way to approach anyone, because she's sure everyone knows somebody who was killed that night and has rather strong feelings about it.

If she has any reputation at all, she's sure now it's of a fool, one that paid the price for her stubbornly held beliefs.

But she finds some comfort in the library reading and watching in amusement when people find the black binder missing. And hiding in the back corner of the coffee shop, still focused on her puzzle book.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We saved the best for when you got here." He wouldn't want to risk burning a vital piece of intelligence before Ava arrived, after all! "And it certainly is. I was tempted to bring it along and burn it at the lodge, but I think this is more appropriate."

The casino feels like the best place to do this. Not just because it's one of two places where fire doesn't bring Friday, but because it's often empty, and the people who would complain the most about their actions would never bother coming down here.

Yeah, he means teenagers.

"It's something to do with the word 'consume' getting thrown around in regards to our souls," he tacks on to Max's commentary, mostly just repeating what Clarke had said to him when he'd read the same bit of information.

"It's supposed to be taken neat, but whatever your preference. There's no one here to judge you." And Max won't, so long as she doesn't do something obscene like mix it with a red bull.

"This is far better than the lodge, because it's less likely one of the more obnoxious passengers shows up to start bickering about nonsense with us." He also means the teenagers, he's had enough of teenagers forever, hopefully they don't age here and Fio never becomes one.

"Hm. I suppose that makes an amount of sense if one doesn't think about it for more than ten seconds." He flips open the binder in front of them to the first page, noting the scribbles in the margins and repeated corrections. "All of this and no one seems to have used any of it to learn from."

"I'm sure it's symbolic somehow, but I'm not much one for poetry." The napkin is quick to burn as the words smolder away into nothing, and she reflexively shifts her hand intangible to avoid the flickers of flame as it consumes (hehe) the last edge grasped between her fingertips. She blows the match out.

"That's what happens when you play telephone with information. Too bad there couldn't be some sort of peer-reviewed centralized source of..." Ava leans over to glance at the page. "It's ridiculous how often I have to insist that the Captain doesn't choose who comes or goes, and people still think they're some specially hand-selected exception plucked out of one of infinite timelines for... whatever reason." The only people she takes that level of self-importance from are the two at her table!

Despite 'neat' being a word that she uses plenty, and more often than she even realizes, in this context she has absolutely no idea what it means and just sorta stares at her empty glass for a moment before asking the ghosts to do it for her. Though mostly to save herself the embarrassment of struggling to open the bottle. But neat turns out to be just... poured by itself. "Ah, fancy." She raises her cup in mock cheers.

"Before I set up the binder, I was constantly approached by passengers looking for information. I was worried about the distortion of the facts, so I thought..." He tears a random bit of paper off, thick with sharpie marks from when he crossed out some information he'd decided was too sensitive. "...Well, that they'd be better off having unfettered access to the information. It has made learning things from other people a bit easier on my end, but so much of it was impossible for me to verify."

He rubs his finger and thumb, and the paper strip between them catchs on fire.

"Now, Max, let's give them credit where it's due. They didn't make anything worse trying to disprove the information, after all." (Even as he says that, he harbors a small suspicion that somebody did something to cause the sigils to fail long enough for Friday to be possessed. But how do you prove that?)

"Everyone here does indeed think they're the center of the universe." Which is strange since the center of the universe is in fact Max. How presumptuous of everyone else.

"You realize burning this will just make them go straight to you again, instead of to the source." It's strange how many people he's suggested to go bother the Captain directly who refuse. Unfettered access to reality's manager and no one wants to cause a scene.

He scoffs at that last part, "That you know of." Skulduggery might have the Captain's ear, amongst other parts, but he doesn't know everything that's going on all the time. "But it should be interesting to see what they replace this with."

"What's that part say?" Ava asks of one of the sharpie markouts, though she suspects it's information she already knows. Skulduggery hasn't kept much from her, in their pursuit of the truth. Being his sounding board for theories is how she knew most of this information before it ever made it to the pages of the binder, anyway.

"I still think you shared... a lot more than I ever would have." But she knows he's a detective, and she's a spy, and they have a fundamental difference in how they approach secrets and information. "Good thing they think most of it is fake anyway."

She considers Max's question and shrugs. "I hope pictures of cats." Everyone likes cats.

"This?" Which is to indicate the burning bit of paper in his hand. "The ship's an 'astral chamber,' which I put out to see if it would generate any reality-based knowledge. You never know who has what kind of magic... But three days later, nobody had said anything about it, so I crossed it out."

He's sure that other people will remember it. Palamedes, SecUnit, Natsuno... They've got a tendency to pick up on things like that. But for now, it can remain unknown. (Yes, he could just ask the Captain, but unlike everyone else, he already does that for everything else!)

"I'm still planning on sharing as much information as before. I just don't plan on letting them all interpret it however they please." Because in the end, they need everyone's input if they're going to get anywhere.

"And you're right, Max, I don't know everything that's going on." This is awkward, but he has to ask, "Did you hear that a lot of those kids I murdered were having a secret mutineers' meeting before the incident?"

"Unintentionally hiding the truth in plain sight. I'm more used to that than you are, I say things all the time that are true but everyone assumes is a lie, and then have the nerve to act shocked when I'm right." He huffs, striking a match to watch it burn, vision analyzers pinging the temperature of each core level of fire. "You could put this back with nothing but false information and see what happens. Bury in there that the Captain isn't truly the one in charge, but someone on the ship pretending to be a passenger is the true culprit who brought everyone here. That could be amusing."

He'd love to watch everyone run around accusing each other of being imposters. That would be hilarious.

"I didn't, no. How do they expect to mutiny given the circumstances?"

She still seems puzzled over the meaning of astral chamber, but it does sound important. Like whatever has made all this possible, to strengthen the Captain's powers and separate them from the regular flow of time. She still isn't overly convinced that whatever they're experiencing isn't just a magical simulation of sorts. But nobody likes hearing that they aren't real, that nothing is, that reality only exists in the mind and... Ava keeps it to herself. Because she knows she tends to get carried away with theoretical nonsense.

"We're dealing with a group of people that are empowered by the idea of fighting against reality itself, even at the cost of everyone's existence. They spent most of the meeting sharing their heroic battles against impossible odds and godlike beings back in their own world. We saw it back at Natsuno's award dinner, and we continue to see it now. It's that all or nothing morality that drives those sorts. It's not good enough for them that we get free. It's that they thrive off the idea of destroying the Captain in revenge for all this torture and suffering we're apparently experiencing. They don't believe cooperation with him, or us, is an option. And so I no longer care to attempt it." Ava crosses her arms.

"I won't lie... I did briefly consider adding false leads, just to keep the more tenacious passengers busy. But," he holds up a hand as if he knows what he's about to say is going to be unpopular with this crowd, "I need to maintain as much of my reputation as I can, given the tatters I've left it in."

Despite everything, he can't bring himself to turn his back on the other passengers. It would be different if he were alone in his conviction, or if it were just the three of them, but he knows peoples' minds can be changed. He has to believe that they can still turn the rest of the ship onto the idea of escaping with the Captain's help.

"I know their type," he replies to Ava, taking a bit of paper and aimlessly folding it. "Children who found themselves in a world of terrible wonder right at the height of their curiosity, unable to let things go, the need to see the world put right, a lack of adult supervision that borders on negligent..." That's a dig at himself, not Valkyrie's parents, who so often think their daughter is safe at home instead of neck-deep in world-ending danger.

"They're used to the fate of the planet resting on their shoulders, and nobody coming to save them. They think that there's no way out but to fight." He slumps down in his chair, shaking his head, and watches the edges of the paper start to curl with heat. "Most of all... they're exhausting."

Scoff, "Why do you even care what they think? It hardly matters does it? Should everyone on the ship turn against you what would that even entail? Them attempting to attack you? When you have access to the bridge?"

Yeah he's not seeing the problem here, Skulduggery needs to use his resources to his advantage.

"Hero types." Ava said it far more eloquently than he could hope to. "So called selflessness weaponized to the point where it's detrimental to everyone. I think we should put them all on their own ship. Or maybe a private island where they can plot and come up with ridiculous ideas of how they're going to overthrow someone who pulled them out of reality itself."

Ava rolls her eyes slightly at the concern of Skulduggery's reputation, because of course he's still convinced that there's hope for saving everyone. Even those who clearly don't want it. Probably trying to make up for his whole villain arc. But she's seen up close at the mutiny meeting how little that means to any of them.

"They're a waste of effort," Ava says dismissively, ripping one of the pages into long strips. "They rather the Captain dead than work with any of us. They think our progress is delusion and every shred of evidence you can present is just going to fuel their crusade of taking us all down with them. You really want to pander toward the crowd that so vehemently hates the man you love?" She's already exhausted what little patience she had.

Yes, she had hoped the could manage to get through to some of them, but it's clear her words were wasted.

"I prefer Max's idea. Call it the next season of Survivor," Ava suggests. She's never watched that show, but it's pervasive enough in the culture for her to have enough of an idea what it's about. "We have those tvs still."

"I know, I know," he mock-sighs. "They can't be convinced by conventional means. Trying to get them to talk to the Captain is like pulling teeth. Most of them have no background with magic, so they don't understand how it works. And even if they do know, this place is a hoarder's nest of magical abilities and systems, requiring a delicate touch to undo."

No matter how much he wants to believe otherwise, deep down, he knows that Ava and Maximilien are right. There's no helping those who refuse to listen to him, who are almost blindly driven to follow the same pattern every other group of passengers has.

"Do you want to know what actually pisses me off about it all?" Not that he's giving them a chance to respond, ploughing on, "They're literally playing right into the game. The whole point of the Eterna is to encourage fighting against the Captain. They're doing exactly what he wants. And if the ghosts in October didn't convince them of that, then I don't know what will."

"There's been quite a lot of turnover since October as well, I wonder if that's related. We have many people now who weren't even here for that. And you'd think the logical thing to do would be to listen to those of us who've been here almost a year. But maybe they think we're part of the Captain's plan as well. Who knows." He sighs and nods along with what Ava says.

"It's not worth it Skulduggery. It really isn't. You're just going to make yourself miserable fighting a battle against people who not only don't believe or trust you, they don't want to. They're projecting everything from their worlds onto here - probably to regain a sense of control of everything, some ..." he gestures airily as he tries to articulate what he means, "some kind of normalacy so that they don't truly have to acknowledge what's happening here. That they can't go home. That they never really left. That magic is real. That death isn't eternal. And mostly, that their deeds back home are meaningless."

One of those is something that even Maximilien doesn't want to admit.

Hearing Skulduggery actually vent his frustrations is welcome when she feels like the one always complaining, and so she gives an encouraging scoff and nod, and she hopes cathartic for him as well. He's spent so long putting up such a positive front in the face of all the criticism and honestly she's surprised he hadn't snapped sooner. "Yes, because they think this time it'll be different because it's them and they're so very special." A roll of her eyes. "Max is right though, they're just stuck in those same fights from back home. It's less about the Captain and more about how they've defined themselves as resistance fighters long before they came here."

Though she has to pause at Maximilien's comment, looking thoughtful as he points out the pattern she had been too busy to notice. "Do you think we should be worried about that? Is this a typical rate of turnover, or are we burning through souls at a more rapid pace?" Ava asks, as she holds up another page for Skulduggery to set on fire with an enabling grin. "I can't believe it's almost been a year already... and that you're finally stating that magic is real." Such growth.

Skulduggery tilts his head in Max's direction, briefly acknowledging the argument. The problem is, no matter how stubborn they turn out to be, Skulduggery still wants to make sure that they get out of here. He doesn't even know how to resign himself to the fact that he can't guarantee that anymore.

"It took me six months to get used to the random chaos that controls things here. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to measure it. Jenny would probably be able to tell us better whether or not this is average. Maybe Friday." He reaches out and taps his finger against the paper held up between him and Ava, leaving a sizzling cigarette-sized hole smoldering in the middle. "It feels like cheating to ask her these days, though."

He groans and narrows his eyes at her, how dare she call him out on the thing he said so subtly! "I could hardly continue to deny that things are happening in front of me that I don't have a practical nor scientific explanation for. I'm not Rita insisting that the ghosts don't exist, give me some credit." HUFF.

"I'm surprised Jenny hasn't tried to escape again, she was so utterly furious about being here in the first place, I would have expected more dramatic attempts to leave." Her being a storm goddess he assumed that meant water and storms so he's been avoiding her. "Do you think Friday tells everyone the same thing when they ask? Or slight variations on a theme?"

"Cheating?" She grins and holds onto the edge until the entire page flickers away. "The more I hear about chaos magic, the less convinced I am that it's any different than the chaos theory that I've heard Bill lecture about. Things may be unpredictable, but they're not necessarily random. True randomness doesn't actually, feasibly exist, because it's always linked to determinism..." Ava trails off, not sure if she's lost them. "It's actually debatable that the only place that it can exist within is quantum physics. Which, given that the Captain has referred to it as magic..." she wrinkles her nose, and then glances over at Max.

"Hey, I don't quite like it either. But I'm giving you plenty of credit," she raises her glass to Max. "At least we're able to move past our preconceived ideas of how the world ought to work." And she downs the rest, before pouring another glass. But she knows Max doesn't particularly approve of overindulging plus she doesn't want to waste his bottle, so she plans to make the second last the rest of the evening.

"Hm. Jenny talked about being pretty drained when we found her. Probably doesn't have much energy to do so. Plus, her brothers are still trapped..."

"You know what they say about magic and science," he drawls, half-quoting Asimov as he watches the smoke curling. "I agree with you, though. Chaos plateus at some point or another, and eventually a pattern can be revealed. Of course, it would require the Captain to be interested in spotting them..." And not ignoring the ones that could mean danger.

There's a little tidbit he should probably tell somebody, and if not Max and Ava, then who? So he replies to Max with as much casual confidence as he can: "I know that she has levels of information she can share. Since the Captain and I have been together, she's been much more forthcoming with me than before." He thinks it's for the better, but she was so put off by it the first time that he's hesitant to push in their conversations. "As for what she tells individuals... I wonder if it's based on how much she likes them?"

He's come a long way, if he can casually hypothesize about Friday being able to play favorites.

"As for Jenny... There's one thing that's been bothering me about her situation. Other than her being trapped here." He makes a middling gesture with his hand and asks, "What do you think happened to her ship?"

He knew he liked Ava for a reason, "You're making a compelling case for what's being described as magic simply being highly advanced and not yet defined laws of physics. I much prefer that."

Which probably goes without saying considering that he reacts like a toddler when confronted with actual magic.

"I never thought I'd want Jinx to return, but that would be helpful to test a theory. Friday told me previously that she's the only passenger she's wanted to murder. Hm, speaking of, I had promised her a gun so she could make good on the threat but then Jinx vanished. I should probably hold up my end of the deal so she can take out whoever is next on her hit list." His tone is totally casual because he absolutely believes that everyone has numbered lists of who they'd murder if given the opportunity and means. That's just normal for him.

"I'm wondering why Jenny didn't come back for Friday who is physically present, even if she couldn't get to her brothers. Also odd that during that unpleasantness of October those brothers didn't make an appearance. Perhaps I was mistaken in assuming that they were a tier above regular ghosts because of their power? She's a goddess of sorts, I had guessed that they would be gods too. But I suppose so were Venti, the Dioscuri, Shi Qingxuan..." Now that he thinks about it there's been a plethora of people who claimed to be deities.

"Right, right. Magic is just science we don't understand," Ava gives the slightest roll of her eyes, but she's not quite as vehement about it as she once was. She had the discussion with even Ebalon, back when they first arrived, and he had questioned her on what she thought the difference was. She still maintains it's a matter of energy source and adherence to very different laws. But... she can see where the edge is blurring and she keeps wanting to pick at it until she can peel back enough layers and find something she can finally understand. For now she can settle with abstract theoreticals and Skulduggery's indulging her with terminology that fits into her own vocabulary.

"Could be how she's approached. I try to ask politely and not demand more than she's capable... but a gun, hm?" She tries to picture Friday with such. If not Jinx, who else she might be inclined to target? She might not have her own detailed hit list like Maximilien, but she does assume everyone has at least a handful of people they'd be interested to put a few extra holes in if only the circumstances allowed.

But Skulduggery's point about Jenny's ship is one... she didn't consider. She frowns. "We didn't see any sign of it along the island, unless she parked..." no, Ava can tell that's not the accurate term, but she's blanking on docked, "on the other side?" Compelled by the curse Ava had ran the opposite direction, and wonders what she might have come across if she hadn't stopped. But that means the ship is still possibly there? Would the salamander people do anything with it? Would anyone else come across it abandoned?

"Don't think she could make it far with Friday... she always made it sound like she couldn't take anyone with." Because Ava had inquired a bit about if she was recruiting.

If anyone is waiting for Skulduggery to question the idea of having a hitlist on hand, they're going to be sitting around for a while. Same with the idea of giving Friday a gun; if he's in favor of the eight-year-old being armed, he's gonna feel the same way about the seemingly well-meaning construct.

"There has to be another person she dislikes on the ship," he suggests. "I'd go so far as to suggest anyone who attended that mutineer's convention at the lodge. No idea if they'd willingly cooperate with an experiment like that, though." They'd have to accept that Friday doesn't like them, and that could be a blow to sensitive teenage egos.

"I don't know about taking anyone else, but I doubt Friday herself can leave. She's bound to the ship -- you both saw what happened when she stepped off the tender." The matter of Jenny's ship is easily set aside for now, even as other questions begin to brew around it. They have enough to deal with one ship, thank you very much.

"Oh I'm sure we could appeal to their sense of self-importance in order to get some of them to stoke Friday into action. Or inaction I suppose, ideally we'd find out she withholds information from them rather than tells them flat out lies. Pointed lack of information can be just as useful in certain situations." Discerning what people aren't telling him, has served him in the past.

"I wonder if she wants to leave. She apparently has enough desires of her own to care about Jenny, that's definitely not the Captain's doing." He's confident of that. Considering how much he seems to despise her, he's definitely not programming his pet automaton to be able to fall in love.

She nods, doubts that Friday could leave the ship even if she wanted. And that the ship certainly would not survive without her. "Her primary interest seems to be in keeping this place operating, as is. However much of that is orders versus her own desires, she doesn't seem inclined to go against them. As much of a victim or servant of circumstance she appears to be... this is her sole purpose, you know? I wouldn't be surprised if we found a way to leave, she would be the one preventing us. Not because she's... hateful, but because it goes against... everything. Her ability to develop in ways beyond his control is... potentially as much of a dangerous sign as it is an encouraging one."

Ava pauses. "That said, I'd love to see her shoot someone."

"As would I. Nevermind the fact that I might be the one she shoots." He chuckles as he says it, even though he's like, 60% sure at some point she will want to shoot him. "And while I agree that she will have some hesitation in rocking the boat, literally and metaphorically... I do strongly believe she wants this to end as much as we do. I don't know what her ideal scenario for that is, but I think she has dreamed of it changing in some fundamental way."

He can only imagine it involves her being able to walk on real grass, without worrying about falling apart the moment she steps off the tender. It's the same desire he imagines Ava carries -- they're both currently surviving at the mercy of the Captain, for better or worse, but surely if they could leave, they would.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)