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

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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!

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"Uh, yeah... far as I know. He was one of the big heroes. Tony Stark, Black Widow... now they weren't so lucky." Sacrificed themselves or whatever. Big damn heroes now that everyone suddenly only have nice things to say.

You know how it goes.

That's a relief. Nobody touch a hair on Scott's head or she'll break your fingers.

But look, she's practically beaming. "... Tony Stark is dead?"

"Yeah, last I heard." Not like he keeps up with superhero shit, but hey. He doesn't think anyone's come back from the dead lately.

She's really happy about Stark, huh? "Gonna guess you have issues with the Avengers?"

"And you're sure he hasn't uploaded himself inside one of his androids so he can live on forever and continue to make the world an increasingly worse place?" Because that sounds like something Stark would do.

"That's the best news I've heard all day," she informs him, bouncing on her heels. Damn, and she's stuck here instead of getting to drag Dr. Pym (president of the Never Trust a Stark club) to the grave to take some tasteless selfies. What a shame.

And then. "I just don't like how they conduct themselves. Made it more difficult for people like me."

"I mean, I can't promise that one." Sounds definitely like something Stark might possibly try to pull.

"Uh, guess I'm glad I made your day, then..." And she does look really excited, doesn't she? Huh...

"People like you?"

Whatever, not going to let that thought ruin her moment.

"Oh, you know. Super but without the hero bit. Now there's all sorts of international laws, and super security prisons in the ocean, and people wanting you to answer for your crimes that they made you commit in the first place. Such a mess. Sometimes you just want to live in the woods and be left alone, you know?"

He's almost surprised he's never ended up in that prison in the ocean, honestly. Probably would have just been a matter of time, if he hadn't died. But whatever. He gets it. "Yeah... well. Kind of getting that here at least, right?"

Minus all the messed up shit.

"Getting what? The camping trip? With as many people that signed up for it... not really alone. Or do you mean prison in the ocean? I suppose it's a bit like that."

No laws though, that's nice.

"I meant getting to be left alone from the types of people who'd put you in a prison in the ocean. I don't see anything like that here. Not the same as living alone int he woods, but..." He snorts, shaking his head.

"Pretty sure the camping trip isn't going to be peaceful at all."

"There's some cop and detective sorts running about, but not much they can really enforce," Ava comments. Depending on the sort this guy is, that might cause concern or relief.

She shakes her head at the possibility of peace. Not with this crowd, even if there wasn't anything to worry about at all they'd find some way to cause a headache for everyone. Even their calls for peaceful protest are sure to end badly. "No, not with your anxious clone to babysit, jumpy lil fella isn't he. Asked me where he could find weapons. I was about to make a book into one if he didn't stop with that condescending yattering."

"Good to know." Marc's-- not exactly popular with those types, not really. Not anymore. He's not specially worried about it though.

There's a weird sort of twinge at the mention of Steven though, something that leaves him shifting his weight a bit restlessly. "He's not-- a clone. It's not that simple. But yeah-- he's. Just like that."

Weapons though? What the hell does Steven want with weapons? Mr. This is Our Chance to Relax.

"C'mon. He's harmless... I doubt he meant to be-- condescending. What'd he do?"

Not a clone, he insists. Ava squints suspiciously. "A LMD? Body double? A skrull that's taken on your form to better blend into society?" There's just a lot of possibilities.

She raises her brows. "Well obviously I could take him in a fight," you know, despite looking a rather harmless scruffy nothing herself. "But he told me I must not read, while I was in the library doing research, and proceeded to to act like I'd never heard of Stephen King before. He has worse social skills than I do, and that's impressive because I was raised in a lab."

"No, it's--" He huffs out a sigh. Letting people know how insane he is? Not really-- something he does. Last thing he needs is to be trapped on a cruise with people knowing he's unwell. He knows how people look at that, how people will view him and by extension, Steven.

"He's not a skrull either. Or-- any of that other stuff. Trust me when I say twin is just easier." So much easier.

"Yeah, I don't know if that's the brag you think it is. He-- worked at giftshop before, you know. Hardly ever been in a fight, even if people treated him like shit constantly."

But fucking hell, Steven, what kind of impression are you making on people? "Look, just-- don't punch him, alright? I'll talk to him or something. I doubt he meant it the way it seems."

It's rather obvious by her expression that she doesn't buy it, because easier is clearly not the truth. Which means they're hiding something. Something they don't want other people to know. And that only makes her want to know more. Ava crosses her arms with an annoyed pout, because she'll drop it for now, but she is determined to figure this out.

"Never said it was a brag. Could take you too. Could take you both at once, that might be a brag. Was just agreeing on his harmless nature. Doubt a vegan is much threat to anything other than a salad bar. Also he's rather adorable when he narrates horror stories, think he should stick to that bit than the insulting a girl's reading materials."

It's only a matter of time until it comes out, he's sure. Or one of them lets something slip, but-- at least she seems to be dropping it for right now.

He rolls his eyes at that insistence. "Yeah, well. I'm not looking for a fight."

... Right now. But he's not good at avoiding them, or quelling the urge to go hunt for one when he's in that mood.

"Not arguing that." Sounds like Steven was running his mouth in all the wrong ways. "Did he say what he wanted the weapons for, by the way?"

"Sure, but somebody might be, if he keeps that up. I can tell he probably means well, despite coming off as the living definition of mansplain. Not everyone is as kind and forgiving and patient as me," these are probably not words that describe her well, and yet. "There's a guy that drops the moon on people, so be careful of that."

She hums in thought, trying to recall that particular bit of the conversation. "Think it fell under the category of emergency supplies.

"I'll talk to him next time we're together. But what the hell do you mean, drops the moon on people?" Marc has all kinds of issues regarding anything to do with the moon.

... well. Maybe he looks slightly proud for a moment. Maybe Steven isn't being quite as reckless as Marc was worrying. "Yeah? Well, good. Sounds like a plan around here."

"It's what it sounds like, I can't explain it. Ah, so you can be together and aren't just one person pretending to be two..." she's trying to whittle down the possibilities. Secret identities are common with spies, she has a half dozen different fake ids of her own.

Ava shrugs a bit. "Last time we needed weapons, they were provided. I got a singing fish, but you can't always be so lucky."

"We're definitely not one person." Well, anymore. "Are you really that curious about this?"

Well, maybe it is a bit odd, he's gotta admit to that. But his whole life is odd. He's used to it at this point.

"... A singing fish? You mean like one of those tacky things you put on the wall?"

"I just enjoy a good mystery, and you're being very mysterious about it. That means it must be worth knowing," Ava reasons. She's not personally overly invested.

And she gives a small huff. "Yes, sang don't worry, be happy at me while I outed myself from the game. Charming little creature, shame I didn't get to bring him back." She would've mounted the damn thing on the wall, so it's probably best for everyone.

"Or it's not as big of a deal as you think." He's not even sure how to say the guy who used to live in his head is-- now out and running around in his own body without seeming like a total psycho.

"That's kind of fucked up." But-- probably not the most fucked up thing he's ever heard. "Did people actually participate in the game?"

He's gonna guess yes, honestly, but he's never been that optimistic about the natures of most people.

"Sounds like something you'd say if you had a dark, terrible secret you were trying to cover up. Oh! What if you're actually triplets and the third was killed and so you say twins to avoid the-" well that would be horrible for her to bring up then, wouldn't it? She already has a habit of asking about spouses and lovers that all happen to be passed away. She gives an apologetic frown.

"We didn't know what we signed up for. And then threatened if we didn't participate, everyone would be killed by nightfall. Some people gave in to the fear, attacked others thinking they posed a threat. Once the bodies started falling..." Ava gives a you know how it goes gesture. "It's easier to say what should have been done in hindsight. I took the kids, tried to protect them, and failed. By that point it all felt so hopeless."

"We're not triplets." There's an almost exasperated shake of his head. He's pretty sure-- well, scratch that. Maybe there's something else going on in his head, but he doesn't want to unpack that baggage, so for now? It's just Steven Grant, the British man who used to live in his head.

"I'm-- sorry," he murmurs, brows furrowing. "That sounds like a nightmare."

Even kids, huh? What sort of twisted fuck...

Would it be pushing it to suggest quadruplets? But she gives a just as exasperated huff in response.

"It was. And then we all came back, and had a party. Which was actually rather entertaining. Then the captain gave me an existential crisis and here we are, all signing up to do it again."

"A party... after you murdered each other." Well, why the fuck not, right? Might as well live it up. The existential crisis thing gives him pause. He didn't know how much this captain guy willingly interacted with people.

"How'd he do that?"

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decohere - 2022-06-09 11:33 (UTC) - Expand

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