come_sailaway | And everything I stir into my tea, comes back to conquer me

Entry tags:

And everything I stir into my tea, comes back to conquer me

Who: Ava and whoever

When: Early June

Where: Various

Summary: More Cute! More Fun! Pre-camping ponderings. Possibly some thievery!

Warnings: Currently none

i. NOT TOO BAD - (closed to Ed)
Ava narrows her eyes suspiciously as she reads over the changed details of the new yet shamelessly the same sign up sheet. Is it really that simple? Or is it just a false sense of security to lure more people in, fall for the same trick twice. It's got to be different, right? Somebody's been texting that annoying call for unity letter around, and she doubts they'd be given much a chance to attempt pulling it off.

She traces her finger over where she'd written her name before, now covered in a scribble, and ponders whether she ought to put her name back on the list.

"What do you think?" she asks, aware of the presence of somebody nearby, turning her glance and, oh, it's Blackbeard. She smiles.

ii. DOOM SCROLLING - (ota)
Since the new sign up sheet went out, Ava periodically checks back to see who else has added their name, how many more are willing to chance the excursion. If it's anyone she knows, what their plans might be to prepare.

"Are you worried?" she asks, either to somebody that's just signed up, or somebody that's instead turned away.

iii. INTO THE WOODS?
Back in the library, Ava is flipping through books that might take place in a forest, involves camping. Mostly she's going by covers, as much as she knows the old saying not to judge a book by one. A lot of them seem to be horror stories, but there's plenty of fairy tales that take place in the woods as well.

This really isn't getting her anywhere at all, and she gives a frustrated sigh at her growing pile, resigning herself to the fact they'll be eaten by bears or sacrificed in some weird ritual and there's nothing she can really do to prepare. The book in her hands gives her a confused pause though.

"You ever go on vacation?" she asks whoever else in the library.

iv. FINDERS KEEPERS? - (ota)
Other passengers seem to keep getting all sorts of neat stuff, and Ava has no idea why all she's gotten so far is some giant Hello Kitty. Is she doing something wrong? Is she supposed to want things a bit harder? Does whoever summon those gifts simply not like her? ~~Is her player just too lazy?~~

Whatever, Ava knows one whole way to get what she wants. Stealing. She'll lurk about in common areas and the hallways, invisible, watching to see if anyone's got anything neat worth taking. Better not turn your attention, or she's going for it.

Alternatively, she might find another reason to spy on your character. Are they looking suspicious? Up to anything odd? Having a hushed conversation? (Feel free to even link to another thread that she's welcome to come spy on!)

v. KNOCK KNOCK - (open to cr or their roommates?)
It's the middle of the night, which is when Ava tends to be most active, most bored, and most likely to seek out somebody to talk to. She knocks quietly at a cabin door, dressed in pajamas and fuzzy slippers and holding a mug of tea.

vi. STEWING - (ota)
There's an uncomfortable awareness that the population of the ship is growing. Which has made the use of the hot tub a bit more competitive, and other areas of the ship far more busy as well. There's less and less place to simply be alone and undisturbed. But she catches the hot tub empty at some point and slips in, a piña colada in one hand and one of those Baby-Sitters Club books in another. Yes, the pages are a bit damp. No, she doesn't care.

If anyone choosing to join her is somebody she knows, Ava will give a small "hey" in welcome. If it's somebody she doesn't, she'll simply glare over the top of the book.

vii. WILDCARD - (ota) HIT ME UP!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Friday wouldn't know what fair is," Skulduggery points out. "Not if she's only ever been aboard this ship." Although, of course, the near-utopic lifestyle aboard the ship does seem more balanced than real life ever gets.

Then again, Skulduggery also got shitty gifts through regain, so maybe he's just jealous of everyone else, too.

"No. But," Ava sulks slightly with a I was going to say something but nevermind sort of vibe. And just sips at her piña colada instead.

Then. "But she does know what's considered fair upon the ship. And that's where we are."

Oh, you know he doesn't jive with that sort of stuff! He knows right away that she's not saying the thing she wants to say. He tilts his head, but he's not sure how to get her original comment out. "Maybe I'm biased. I don't particularly engage with her."

Bias is a pretty funny way to spell bigot!

"I've mostly avoided her, she's busy enough with... you know."

She plucks the little umbrella out of her drink because it's getting a bit in the way, twirling it between her fingers while offering it up to Skulduggery. Mostly expecting him to burn it.

"And I'm never sure how much you tell her gets back."

"It's safe to assume that anything you say to Friday gets to the captain somehow." That's his assumption, anyway -- whether it's safe or not is up for interpretation.

He takes the offered umbrella and rolls it between his fingers for a moment, then lets go. The umbrella remains upright, gently spinning in the air. It's a combination of showing off and needing to practice, but let's be real, it's a lot of the former.

"You were going to say something, before?"

She watches the spinning with rapt attention, zoning out a bit from the conversation, until Skulduggery prompts her for a response.

"Right, she puts on a friendly... lack of face, answers questions, has a sympathetic enough dilemma that can easily lull you into wanting to confide things perhaps you should not. So I hadn't felt comfortable, asking about... what might become of my condition here. Treatment options if necessary. Because it's a bad idea to express needs when being held hostage, when it can be used as leverage. I didn't want to put myself in that situation. Again."

Ava reaches out, to lightly poke the spinning umbrella, curious.

"But I needed to know."

Skulduggery only needs to manipulate a tiny space of air directly beneath the hood to keep it afloat. Ava poking it sends it bobbing in the invisible current, pinwheeling lazily as the airflow pushes it around.

"Your reasoning is sound." Because it is. He can't imagine giving Friday any sensitive information, although he knows it's inevitable. All the same, she needs to be able to manage her condition while here. "Did she have an answer for you?"

She gives a pleased little smile at the change in motion.

"I asked her more as a... theoretical, instead of making it about me specifically. What would happen to somebody with a medical condition that tended to get worse." Even though she's not sure how much Friday knows of her that perhaps it was obvious, she hoped a vaguer question might avoid catching interest in whatever monitoring the Captain may do through Friday.

"She said it's paused. That... 'It wouldn't be very fair to make someone have that when other people don't!' And I'm not quite sure who it's meant to be fair for. For me? For the others? For the Captain? Why is it a matter of fairness, I can't figure that out. Because I know better than to mistake it as a gesture of kindness. Even though I'm... appreciative of it."

"That is strange." Skulduggery can't imagine why it would matter to the captain whether or not Ava got worse; he could always repair her when he brought her back to life, couldn't he? "Sometimes, things just happen to be beneficial for both parties. I see why it helps you... As for the captain?" He shrugs. "I have no earthly idea. You're right, though, it's not likely done out of kindness."

"It makes sense with my thought that we're suspended outside of time and therefore nothing can truly move forward within it. Like how this ship doesn't really... seem to go anywhere, despite the wind and waves creating the feeling that we're moving forward. But I couldn't get a clear answer on aging."

Ava snatches the umbrella out of the air, and bonks his knee with it.

"But fair just. Seems an odd choice of word. I mean, we have no money. The same access to resources and locations. There's no real class system upon the ship. We're functionally equals, outside of what abilities we came with. But during the... Battle Royale, the weapon assignments were supposedly random but pre-assigned in our named bags. And I got a singing fish. That doesn't seem particularly fair either."

Skulduggery's been in the ocean already, having gotten thrown by their mutual associate a while back, so he knows exactly what she's talking about there. And it's true enough that the ship has been something of an equalizer among the passengers.

"Do you think it was done on purpose?" He can't actually recall how many gag weapons there had been, either during the excursion or in the book itself.

"Me receiving the most worthless weapon? I don't know. Can't imagine I did anything to make myself a personal target. But it felt like mockery, or recognition that I don't actually care that much to use weapons. Or maybe it was truly random, and I continue to have the world's worst ongoing unlucky streak."

Skulduggery holds out his hand for the umbrella. "Maybe that's the mysterious connecting factor between our arrivals." He chuckles. "Our unbroken streaks of bad luck."

"It's got to work itself out one day, right?" Ava sounds skeptical, but offers the umbrella back.

"That's how it's meant to work. What comes down must, eventually, come back up." That's the idea, anyway, although Skulduggery isn't sure he's ever seen it in practice.

He takes the umbrella and tucks it neatly through a buttonhole on his lapel. There, now he officially can say he's tried the vacation look on. "So, what sort of perils do you think we'll have to endure?" He nods his head in the direction of her book, "Any advice from The Babysitter's Club against mass slaughter?"

"Not sure that's how gravity works, unless you're extremely bouncy. Like a dead cat bounce." Which isn't the most encouraging analogy either, the slight bounce of hope before things completely crash further.

She smiles, pleased at the addition to his attire. "Well, Kristy learned how to use mascara. That sounds rather horrifying. Especially for you and Max, not sure where you could even put it. And Mary Anne got caught going to the boys' side. Very scandalous. So I'll avoid both those things."

Skulduggery laughs. "I don't know if horrifying is the right word, but it would certainly be humiliating. I think I'll pass on decorating my skull for now." Really, if all they have to worry about during this excursion is cabin politics and face-painting, he... will frankly be relieved.

"You know, the captain was right. More people signed up for this excursion than before, just like he said."

"There are more more passengers aboard now to sign up, ones that weren't even here to witness the last, so that does help sway things in the favor of his claim. But yes, it was a sizable portion. I think some just want to prove they're capable of doing better than us failures, and want to partake in that whole peaceful protest. Or they're less afraid, with the knowledge that we simply, more or less, come back. Or the not too bad is all the reassurance they need."

She puzzles for a moment. "One of the women I killed, she's gone now. I worked up the courage to confront her, and she's simply no longer here."

That's not a particularly reassuring thing to learn, now is it? Skulduggery's own cabin had seemed lived in but empty when he'd arrived, before Lucius; and Max himself had never seen his cabinmate before. Likely, they both disappeared for similar reasons.

"Subsumed by the ship, maybe," he says unhappy at the thought. "It's unlikely they managed to escape back to their realities, but that's certainly an option..." Not a very likely one, unfortunately.

"Right, it just seems a kinder way to phrase it. And dead doesn't quite have the right note of finality anymore, does it?"

She feels overly flushed from the warmth of the water and the drink, and reaches for her folded towel. "So if you get in, would you turn the whole thing into a broth?" Ava asks.

"We don't know that the shades can't be restored," Skulduggery points out. His tone indicates he thinks that is a wildly unlikely probability, though. Also, "I don't have any marrow, so it would make for a particularly weak soup." Hehe. "Besides, I tend to float."

"You know. Perhaps," Ava sounds just as doubtful. "Or maybe there's some way to... I don't know, have them fight back somehow." Ava does like the thought of revolution. But still doubtful.

"Mm, so you're truly bone dry, huh?"

She pauses. "I hope you don't mind my curiosity. I know sometimes I get sick of people poking around too much in my business, but you're always welcome to ask questions in return."

"Are you kidding? I love to talk about myself." Boastful but still managing to be self-aware of it: that's Skulduggery's whole deal. "Although sometimes I think you might be teasing me, instead of indulging in my enormous ego."

The only thing he loves more than himself is a good mystery, and he can't resist picking at the ghosts. "Even if they couldn't fight back, having some way to communicate with them would help. Who knows what they might be able to tell us?"

"It's my job to keep you humble," Ava decides, right then and there. "And probably Max's to make you second guess your choices in life, yeah?" she jokes.

Ava hums, trying to think of ways to communicate with ghosts. "Are seances a real thing? Or maybe a ouija board." They're the sorts of thing that even she's heard of, even though she has no experience with either. It feels dumb suggesting it, because she's sure the magic sorts have already tried all sorts of ways of communicating with the spirits.

"Max's job is to be irritatingly obtuse about magic." He is fondly annoyed about that, as opposed to just regular annoyed. Max is special, he gets to be obtuse.

Ava's following questions indicate she might also need that special treatment. "Mediums are a thing in my reality, but ghosts are not something I deal with on a day-to-day basis." More like a monthly/bi-monthly basis. "I... know Darcy is more familiar with them." But they're currently not on speaking terms, which doesn't bode well for immediate ghost-related conversation.

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