JUNE EVENT: CAMP

[sailmods]

early on June 10th, Friday's morning announcements end with a request for everyone going on the latest excursion to meet her in the atrium. she seems in noticeably better spirits than she had been last time, and she leads them cheerfully to the tender. once they are all aboard, and the door is securely shut, the interior fills with gas, and, perhaps, their last thought before they slip into unconsciousness is "oh shit, not again."

passengers wake up on a rickety old school bus, driving down a dirt road surrounded by woods. what is it that they notice first? that, no matter what they were wearing before, they are now wearing a camp t-shirt and legitimately horrifyingly short shorts? the overstuffed backpack between their knees? the words "take one down and pass it around" dying on their lips? the fact that Friday is absolutely driving the bus?

or, maybe the fact that it's already slowing down, pulling up in front of a massive wooden sign, saying:

 

 

 

 

 

CAMP AION

when they get out of the bus, Friday is the one to divide them up into their cabin groups, and she is the one to give the counselors their very official-looking clipboards and whistles. she explains that they are in charge, and that she will be back to pick them up in a week, and... very little else. she responds to nothing outside of whatever is on her unseen little script, and she gets back on the bus shortly after, leaving them there.

welcome to camp. let's make some summer memories!

Comments

[selenokinesis]

It sounds quite powerful.

[Eyebrow raise! What is this rock, can he have one?]

Ah, but I assume... if you do have it on the ship with you, you couldn't simply teleport away, could you? Still, though — have you used it on... [what was her weapon's name... uh.] Fishbones, I believe was the name?

[hellonspectacles]

For a moment or two, Pal continues to watch Clarke, his expression turning to one of studied approval as she sets herself to the ready. Necromancers, by way of their trade, grow up collecting an unsettlingly large amount of knowledge about how and where to bleed, and bleed copiously, without doing long-lasting damage. Pal had always favored the webspace between his fingers himself.

When Palamedes speaks, his voice isn’t loud, exactly, but it carries the air of command. His gaze is slightly unfocused and tilted upward towards the tops of the trees. “Though this earth is newly made and unsuitable for the living or the dead, I, Palamedes Sextus of the House of the Sixth, bid you come, all that can hear me. For the sake of brethren souls trapped in this illusion, for the sake of justice all deserve, for whatever pity you might feel for we sorry prisoners, rent the fabric of this fantasy and show us the way that freedom lies.”

Then suddenly, he looks at Clarke, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Now!”

[hellonspectacles]

“Why, from the other side of Eternity,” says Palamedes, only halfway to joking. “Sort of. In my world, when people die, their souls travel to the River. ‘River’ and ‘travel’ are approximate metaphors, to be clear—the River doesn’t exist in the way that we understand existence—but when one is discussing the metaphysical, all one has is metaphor, right?

He takes out the antibac and the bandages and rises to his feet. “So! Souls can be drawn from the River by necromantic means. There’s nothing saying they couldn’t be drawn here, at least not theoretically—hmm? Oh! No, I’m quite all right.” He puts the ointment on his hand, and then stares down at the angry line of the incision. Within a few moments, it disappears.

[hellonspectacles]

As was the case the last time Jade demonstrated his powers, Palamedes watches the proceedings with keen interest—first looking at Jade himself, inspecting his words and gestures, and then at the little forest glade as it comes to life with strange twinkling, with sound, and with vibration. For all his genius and everything he has known and learned in his short life, a display like this can still leave him awed, and he observes with a small, wondering smile tugging on his lips.

“Flame, words, and blood are the basic building blocks of any summoning,” Palamedes says, turning in a small circle to best view the overall effect. “I was having a bit of trouble scrounging up a candle. This is significantly better.”

[secondtick]

No matter the odds, or what the challenge is we'll find a way to finish on top.

(Though with how close they were, and how their first dance had gone that could be taken a number of different ways.)

[mooninthewater]

[ Mizuki feigns a gasp, mustering up the most overdramatic look of shock. ]

You love me?! Why, Ebalon, I ain’t ever heard them words out your mouth before. How am I supposed to believe you now??? [ A giggle. He can’t help it, he has to break character a little. ] For shame. If we both love each other, what’s supposed to happen next? I think one of us is gonna have to change.

[selenokinesis]

[Oh, he's so cute. Oh no. Fuck, Ebalon's in love with this fucking jellyfish.

Yes, his cheeks are dusted pink at Mizuki's leading! It's very charming, in fact. Who cares if Mizuki is small and "shouldn't lead", Ebalon's gonna let him do whatever the fuck he wants.]

Are you keeping time, my love?

[Said to the tapping, obviously. Cute, cute, cute... if he doesn't go into cardiac arrest here it'll be surprising.]

[selenokinesis]

[The country accent gets him right in the heart, hello? Ugh...]

Is that how it works? I believe when two people love each other, they're supposed to kiss.

[Ew.]

[mooninthewater]

[ Well, it’ll occasionally come out. It comes with dating someone who’s literally from the sticks. Even if he does usually speak “more proper”. For now, he drills the marshmallow stick into the ground so he can more easily face Ebalon. ]

And now he's tryna solicit me for kisses! The scandal! [ He taps his lips for a moment. ] Though, I do suppose I am a sucker for his kind face. Maybe I wouldn’t mind if he gave me one~?

[cacophonish]

Exactly, tonight's for happy vibes and ignoring their abundant personal problems! As long as they've got marshmallows and fire, they're fine. Better than fine, even. They're thriving.

"Thanks, man." Jeff's beaming, totally proud of how his skulls turned out, and all too happy to just burrow in this distraction. He passes the green bracelet off to the dude and grabs a handful of marshmallows in return. One by one, they get speared on a stick, because why practice moderation or take his time when he can just burn several at once and shove them all in his mouth and maybe burn his tongue, but it'll be worth it--

"I'm Jeff. Um. New here, I guess. This is my first... uh... shore leave?" Excursion. Whatever. He looks thoughtful for a moment. "It's kind of nice, you know? Everyone made it sound like we were gonna get murdered or go all Lord of the Rings--" He means Lord of the Flies. "--or something."

[cacophonish]

"Yeah, Jeff. I'm-- that's me." He gives a half-hearted wave, like they're meeting each other under normal circumstances, and he totally didn't just say a bunch of alarming things about his own ability (or inability) to stay awake and know where or when he is.

"I don't bite." Okay, if they were in some kind of life or death struggle, he'd probably bite. It's one of his only moves. He's so not a fighter. But, all things considered, he's pretty calm right now, totally resigned to blacking out and waking up in a weird summer camp. Jeff holds up two fingers in a peace sign. "Total pacifist."

He doesn't seem feverish, at least. But if Clarke really looks him over, it's probably pretty obvious that he's tired and underfed, has a bit of a stray animal quality to him. The dude's been burning the candle at both ends for a while now, long before he came aboard the Serena Eterna.

[decohere]

"It's only childish if you're implying Steven is a child," Ava claims.

"And of course. I'll even throw in my best impression of any Avenger you choose." Not that it'll be a good impression.

[sabigoe]

[ Nearly the entire morning on the first day had been a horrifying feeling for Fio. Like many familiar with the first excursion, she was expecting the murders to begin as soon as they were dropped off. Very likely she wouldn't have stood a chance against anyone. Yet nothing of that sort happened, only that she was given a clipboard, whistle, and tasked to be a counselor, for some reason. She has hardly been an authoritative counselor, letting her assigned campers to their own devices. She hasn't even blown her whistle yet. ]

Good evening!

[ Fio beams, adding more cheer to her tone. Good company, he says. Her smile widens, then she moves to take a seat next to him, propping her hands on her lap. She's glad to have him as company. If she were in her own world, this is around the time of night where she would wake up in a cold sweat. Tonight, she's merely awake on her own volition. ]

Hm. It is pretty late... [ She does try to be a "good girl" and sleep at what would be considered normal hours for a child. There isn't really anyone to enforce that. And she just doesn't really feel too tired at the moment. ] Why're you still up, Mr. Specs?

[mooninthewater]

[ An inquisitive glance up at Ebalon, something that asked him if it was strange? Keeping time isn’t that weird, is it? He doesn’t want to ask, though, because it might mess his timing up if he goes saying too much. So… ]

Yes…?

[ He’s doing fine, though, right? He could probably pick up Ebalon and spin him around, too. Hm. Sure, okay, clearly he’s being mocked for being an amateur at this, so he’s just going to casually put both his hands against Ebalon’s waist during a slight lull in the song. With perhaps unsurprising ease, he hoists him up to twirl him around. ]

[mooninthewater]

[ Mizuki parts their lips to settle his forehead against Ebalon’s. It takes him a moment to collect his buzzing thoughts again, his look still a bit… frightened. ]

I feel the same… but it’s that that precisely wants me to keep from you being hurt. If you worry over me and get hurt because of it… I’d be so beside myself with regret. If… If I hurt you… [ “I don’t know what I’d do, but I likely wouldn’t be in my right mind about it.” ]

[icespy]

[ unlike diluc, who molds himself into the tree until he becomes as much its shadow as trunk and leaf, kaeya's presence is far more obtrusive (some might say even deliberately so). he leans his weight back against his arms, every inch the languorous louche, legs swinging idly with his usual inability to stay still; not out of a nervous tic - he quashed that habit quite thoroughly ages ago - but simply a need to always keep moving, coins dancing through his fingers and mouth weaving endless words, some frenetic energy constantly coursing through him to stay one step ahead of whatever's trying to catch up.

(nothing's ever made him want to run as much as diluc. away or to, even he doesn't know.) ]

Ouch! I'll have you know, Master Diluc, that not everyone finds my company such a chore. In fact, I've been told I have quite the model profile for paintings, provided I keep my mouth shut.

[ what goes unsaid of course, though perhaps not unheard, is that kaeya's company changes with each person he's with, chimerical as light glittering off the fractals of a crystalline prism, altering to whatever he needs to project to best achieve the goals he's after. it's really only ever with diluc that the ever-shifting crystal finally stills, becoming a mirror that strips away all his illusions to reflect back the truth of the image underneath, an ugliness he prefers not to face...and yet here he is, all the same.

(he keeps the ridiculous rock, stores it away instead of chucking it into the unknown as expected. what does it mean, if anything at all?) ]

[mooninthewater]

[ As someone who knows a mildly insane demon-angel that has some ability to slow and stop time, it doesn’t feel like anything, actually! It’s more like Mostima is teleporting or super speedy to Mizuki, even if she explains it differently. To relate it to gods is… weird. ]

I… guess it is? I’m really not smart enough to think about things like that… [ Or more like, Mizuki is more of a visual learner. This doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to him just put out there like this. The individual words have meanings, but stringing them together in a way that sort of challenges their meanings in his head just doesn’t compute well. People keep trying to say he’s actually smart, but he truly thinks, with moments like this, he’s just a bit stupid.

He wishes he could understand how people are supposed to think a little better. ]

There aren’t many deities on Terra. The few I know of aren’t exactly… good. Well, except the one my church worshipped, but it was some nameless god no one’s seen before, so admittedly I am not entirely sure he’s real… [ Just kidding! It’s Genesezoic. But Mizuki doesn’t know this. ]

Has anyone spoken to Henir?

[mooninthewater]

[ “Not much of a cause,” huh…? Mizuki squeezes his hands together for a moment, in thought for a moment. Maybe the Captain means that it’s because they’re brought back to life, but— ]

How… do you think the Captain brought us here? [ A bit of a topic change. Sorry, Natsuno. He just has to address this, first. ] Like, what do you think we are?

[prodigalmess]

"Blackbeard?" Malcolm asks without batting an eyelash. Stede can't expect to get into someone else's personal business without Malcolm also getting into his.

He watches as Stede folds the paper and copies what he's doing. "Since we got here, so... two months?"

[wimdy]

[ no, he's just an evasive and flighty bastard. someone's in the wrong in this relationship and it sure as hell isn't mizuki... well, most of the time surely it wouldn't be. ]

If you need me, then...

Can I tell you something else? [ something he'd been meaning to tell mizuki for a while, especially after that killing game but then... well. then he'd been with clarke, then he had to come clean, then quite a lot happened and somehow the opportunity never came up, but it's been a long time coming. especially if he thinks back to mizuki falling to gunfire, that memory. ]

My god's name. If you call for me or pray, as long as the wind hears I would try to find you.

[prodigalmess]

'Assigned weapon' is an interesting phrase. Assigned by whom?

"I collect antique weapons and my prized katana arrived here as a gift," Malcolm says. "It's back in the cabin." He'd grabbed it on his way to this excursion, not knowing what he was going to face here.

Malcolm watches as Maeve takes her throw and ends up hitting the target. "Not too bad," he tells her. "The force you're putting behind it is right, at least."

Tossing another hatchet, Malcolm is pleased when this one sinks into the wood close to the bullseye.

[millay]

A little harmless trouble only hurt people occasionally. She's sure that it's bound to just get pulled down and put in the trash, but at least they can gain a small amount of emotional response. Then again, it just might do absolutely nothing.

"Sounds good to me. If we find any of the supplies for macaroni art, perhaps we can manage something with that, too." She smiles. "Whiskey will at least make it more entertaining. If nothing else. And perhaps the art will get stranger."

[wimdy]

[ that's cheating...... anyway if he flies, he'll still be taller. ha. so there. that totally counts if tentacles do.

actually this also occurs to him, ] Ah, but... if the barrier makes the lake neverending like this, what should we do for an end point or finish line?

[ just fly/swim until they drop of exhaustion?? can't be that, right? ]

[prodigalmess]

"Sorry," he replies. Admittedly, his knowledge of robots is kind of limited. "That's my point though. Here you don't have to hide. I imagine it doesn't make the idea of going home too appealing."

Malcolm's sure that Rin isn't the only one who feels that way too.

[wimdy]

Don't say 'fault' like that. Everyone starts somewhere, even the best of archers or any sportsmen.

[ so, this too is understandable, surely a total beginner and newbie wouldn't hit the target first try. but maybe he'd kind of been hoping, as if drawing some kind of unconscious relation between the target and... them, their relationship...

he rocks back on his heels, lets out a breath, tries to relax a little more. giving space is fine. trying to slowly win back trust or forgiveness is fine. they hopefully have time, if this really is a summer camp and won't devolve into some killing game unexpectedly later. ] In that case, it might just be practice. I could give tips and suggestions on stance and positioning, but the best way to improve is simply to shoot and hands-on experience, over and over again. It certainly isn't an easy skill, but that's the best way to improve at anything hm?

[ hm, like... he remembers mizuki teaching him CPR. that proobably is something a little less easy to practice with, so if he tried saving someone for the first time he might panic and mess things up, but he could hope he's remembered enough information to be even a little useful than completely not. ]