JUNE MINI-EVENT: THEIR BLOOD ON THE ROSES IN HAND

[sailmods]

About midway through June, posters begin going up around the ship. They’re crude, clearly Friday-made creations, with cute little drawings and bubble letters. They all say basically the same thing:

SENIOR PROM
fun under the sea

JUNE 20
7PM TO 1AM
MAIN DINING ROOM

CRUISE FORMAL
NO ALCOHOL
ANNOUNCEMENT AT MIDNIGHT

When you arrive at the dining room at the appointed time, there is an arch of blue and white balloons in front of the door. As you pass through, you’re immediately greeted by the familiar icepick headache that always follows sojourns into other dimensions. The reason is immediately obvious: instead of the expected dining room, you are very much in what appears to be a school gym. A sizable one, with a DJ booth and a small stage, but you can still see the basketball hoops, for all that they’re covered in balloons. A lot of balloons. An honestly inadvisable amount of balloons.

There is a large dance floor in the middle of the room, under a spinning disco ball. Round tables of about four or five folding chairs each surround it; behind them, one can find the punch bowl, and a small buffet table of mostly finger foods (also a chocolate fountain, natch). the DJ booth isn’t manned, but it could be; it’ll play anyway, mostly 80s songs.

There are two gaudy thrones on the stage: one has a crown, the other a tiara, as well as sashes proclaiming the wearers to be prom king and queen. Behind the stage, a string is attached to the bucket of pig’s blood directly above the thrones, if you decide to be the funniest person to ever live.

There is a microphone stand on the stage. It doesn’t seem to be on.

Comments

[hadnoright]

[ Daisy arrived a half hour ago, at most. She turned up in normal clothes and perched herself on the edge of a table, waiting for the announcement. And when it comes... ]

There it fucking is. I told you so. What have I been saying for months? [ she huffs, she doesn't sound particularly gleeful just... grimly vindicated ] Better get used to every trip ending in death for someone. Just the way it used to be.

[decohere]

Hm. Seems like the sort of arrangement that benefits you. [just saying.]

[hadnoright]

[ Daisy sets her with a flat look, ] Before? Sure. Now? Every time I die, I'm worse off. And I don't want to completely lose myself. So, no. Try again.

[decohere]

[the absolute lack of sympathy here.] Then stay home where you can be a hypocrite quietly.

[hadnoright]

[ There's the faint rumble of a growl before she rolls her eyes, ] God don't talk to me like I didn't live on this boat years with your precious Captain taking glee in our violence and suffering. Seriously, how the fuck am I the only hypocrite here? So it's fine for the Captain, who's actually in his right mind, to kill your boyfriend sometime? At least I fucking apologised instead of grinning about it.

[not here]

[light_mischief]

[Ava will recognize the headtilt across the way for what it is: 🙄]

[decohere]

[heh. good thing she's capable of looking two directions at once, sharing a 'take a look at this Karen lmao' eyeroll right back, while her split visage maintains a very blank gaze with Daisy.]

Now now, I wouldn't go accusing anyone of being in the right mind.

Besides, he's never killed my fiancé. The edge of the map, a piano, and then I did because you were too sloppy to clean up after yourself.

[hadnoright]

He seems plenty fucking lucid to me. I'm not just talking about the past. I'm talking about the future. Your fiancé [ why are so many people getting married on this hell boat help— ] goes on a trip. Dies. That's on the Captain's head. No matter what you tell yourself.

[decohere]

Lucky for me, Peter understands informed consent. He isn't some clueless chud [is she using that word correctly, Sharky?] incapable of properly understanding what he's signing up for. He's a grown man practicing his autonomy and is willing to face any danger and put himself through any challenge to ensure the survival of everyone else on this ship. And I'll be at his side. Fully aware of the inevitable.

You all have way more agency than you're willing to admit to yourselves, because then you'd have to reflect inward and take some accountability. The Captain gave you a choice, don't try to take away ours.

[hadnoright]

[ This time a snarl ripples up her throat, but though Daisy's knuckles go white from gripping the edge of the table and her claws puncture the cloth, she doesn't move an inch. She doesn't dare risk being perceived as a threat. ]

You want to go off and die? Go ahead. I don't care. But don't you talk to me about choice. Where was our choice when we got yanked here? Where was our choice when he tortured us for years? Where was our choice when he had Jenny slit our fucking throats to buy her freedom?! Shit, where was the choice for all those fucking ghosts you all destroyed?!

[ She's sitting there, living proof that the ghosts could somehow be restored, and yet. Here they are. Ghosts 'freed'. Arguing about choices. Seemingly not caring what those ghosts wanted or went through. ]

I've made choices. I own those choices. But nothing about this place? Is a choice. Not even now. Endless torture versus dying for good? That's not a real choice. It's the illusion of it.

[decohere]

Nobody asked you to care. I know it's beyond you. Because when I found Peter bleeding out on the floor, I had the choice to either let him die slowly or do it myself to spare him to further agony. And the person you never bothered to apologize to is me. So stop acting like you're so above this.

I can't attest to the destruction of the glass containers. That wasn't my choice nor action, but it was somebody's. But I'm fully willing to take on those consequences, by choice. Others will choose to not. By choice I will not criticize. Because we're not mind controlled puppets.

Which is exactly what I'm trying to say. You came from a voyage that chose to participate in bloodshed and violence at every turn resulting in Jenny making a faustian bargain to end it, and you're a shining example of your own bloodlust consuming you. You have your needs, the ship has its own. If you're not willing, stay behind. We may not have control over our circumstances, but our actions within it will always define who we are. The second you believe otherwise, you've lost.

cw: reference to attempted suicide

[hadnoright]

You don't know anything about me, or my bloodlust. [ her lip curls, but she breathes and keeps the reins pulled firm ] I own my choices in my world. I chose to be a monster and then I chose. To stop. But once a Fear God has you? You feed it, or it feeds on you. So I chose to starve myself to death and when things changed? I let my partner kill me. Make sure I couldn't hurt anyone else ever again. And then I woke up back here. And that choice was gone.

[ She's increasingly less committed to wanting to die for good, but she still resents that specific choice being taken from her in the first place. ]

And still I kept starving instead of hurt anyone until I lost it. And I'm sorry. I am. I wasn't in my right mind, but I was still me. I don't deny that. I don't ask or want forgiveness. I know what I am and I am trying to be less of it because I don't want to lose myself to it. I don't want to hurt people.

And none of that changes anything about how bullshit this is.

[decohere]

I chose to be a monster too. [a sigh. her voice hasn't raised during any of this, but it does soften slightly.] Maybe things are different here, maybe I'm lying to myself and they aren't. But I never put the responsibility of my actions onto others. Everyone talks about wanting to be free, while assigning their free will away.

Bullshit or not. This is a direct consequence of what we collectively did. That's proof that we have influence over what happens, and that our choices mattered and will continue to matter going forward. If you can change things, divert the path even a little, then the cycle can be broken.

I know you've already put your time in. Nobody will hold it against you for not wanting to participate.

[hadnoright]

Am I supposed to care if other people are hurt, or not? [ dry, before she huffs a sigh ] It's not just about if I want to participate or not. For months people have been holding this cruise up as better. Saying the Captain's changed. That you lot aren't like we were because you take action and work together and all that crap.

[ She throws her arms up, ] And look at where what you collectively did got us! More death, but oh it's better now because you know it's coming. [ the laugh that escapes her is bitter ] You think we didn't know, after the first dozen trips?

You didn't break the cycle. You held it off for a bit.

[decohere]

You told me you didn't. Or at least not about me. You can care about anyone else you want. And I plan to care for Peter, and Skulduggery, and Maximilien, and Darcy, and Fio and the Captain [no point in denying it] and everyone else that I love whether they sign up or stay back. Because I do believe in sticking by them through this.

It's better for me because I get to consent to it. Our existence costs energy, so I'll pay my fair share. This place keeps me alive, and I intend to continue to enjoy that.

And please, this is hardly over.

[hadnoright]

I said I don't care if you want to make the choice to go die. 'Cuz it's not my business what you want to do or don't. Not the same thing.

[ Not that she's particularly broken up about a lot of people here getting hurt, there are far less people she actively gives a shit about than people she just hasn't got a strong enough opinion on to actively want them to suffer. But she's not totally heartless. ]

We wouldn't cost energy if he hadn't trapped us here in the first place. You've got to see how this situation shouldn't and wouldn't even exist if he hadn't built a torture ship at all.

[not_the_last]

After Daisy's conversation with Ava dies down, Cassandra approaches her with next to no expression on her face.

"For what it's worth," she says quietly, "I thought you were most likely right."

[hadnoright]

Daisy's about ready to make to leave, when Cassandra catches her. She's heard what she came to hear, she's said her piece, she doesn't expect anyone to really care. But she stops for Cassandra, facing her with a subtle little tilt of her head.

"About which part? Said a lot of things."

[not_the_last]

"Mostly the first one. How you knew this was coming, or something like it, and said so. I was inclined to think you were right before we got this confirmation."

Her tone's cool and level, neither congratulatory nor accusatory.

[hadnoright]

Daisy huffs air out her nose. "So much for just being pessimistic. Turns out years of experience do count for something. Who'd've thought."

[not_the_last]

"Indeed."

A glance around at the crowd, which hasn't quite dissipated yet. "If you've anything more to say on the subject to someone who'll actually listen ... perhaps tomorrow, or the next day?"

[hadnoright]

Huh. Daisy's head tilts again, and then she shrugs. "Sure. Tomorrow works. Where?"

She's the walking embodiment of a predator, probably better to let the girl she killed once pick the venue to talk.

[not_the_last]

"The formal dining room, perhaps? It's not in general use anymore."

(Only later will it occur to her that she could have chosen the Promenade, just to be difficult. On reflection she's glad she didn't think of it sooner.)

[hadnoright]

"Works for me. Just text me a time, I suppose."

Said as she takes steps backwards.

[not_the_last]

"I shall," she says, and takes a step back of her own, and nods before turning to go.