come_sailaway | JUNE EVENT: CAMP

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yes! Like my twin brother. [He is not, in fact, taller or more muscly or anything like that. They share the exact same body. Steven just has worse posture. But the longer they stay split apart the more likely there will be some differences developing between them.]

It's alright if you haven't. I'm just-- worried about him. [More like worried without him, without Marc to hold their shit together, but hey, let him pretend he's got this.]

We-- haven't really been apart.

( clarke comes from a world where siblings are forbidden. having another child was considered a crime punishable by death, and being that second child meant life imprisonment — with a possible execution waiting on your eighteenth birthday. she's seen exactly one pair of siblings though, and this weirdly codependent anxiety and relentless clinginess.......

yeah, it tracks. )

Okay. Hey, it's okay. ( take a deep breath buddy. unconsciously, clarke's crowding into steven's space ever so slightly, looking for a moment like she wants to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. but belatedly remembers they're strangers. )

Did you see him get on the tender before we all passed out? Or on the bus? If he's supposed to be around here, I'm sure he isn't far.

[He takes in a deep breath and his shoulders slump as he goes back to fidgeting, wringing his hands, rubbing his knuckles. He doesn't seem keen to just stand there but restless pacing isn't really helping him relax, either.]

I saw him, I think. Back of his head at least. [The whole thing was really overwhelming. Steven panicked at getting gassed and Friday's lack of face is just like BLEGH and everyone is just like WAUGH and it's just been-- a lot.]

It's alright. I'll keep looking. Thank you miss.

Well I — ( oh, is he already disengaging and prepared to continue this quest on his own? nothing smart quite like being approached for help and not being able to offer much in the way of it. failure over something she has next to zero stake in is still failure, and clarke's scrambling. )

— hey, wait. Tell me his name, I'll at least keep an eye out.

[He doesn't want to take up too much of her time and make her feel like he's a bother. He's managed to annoy so many people already, he doesn't want to add a lovely young lady to the list. If he stops bothering her now and leaves her alone, he might at least have a chance of befriending her later, when he's not stressing out over the forceful separation.]

His name's Marc. Marc Spector. I'm Steven Grant. [The names will come in handy later when she meets Marc and might find it difficult to tell them apart, hair styling and accents aside. Although it'll become obvious soon enough; fortunately or unfortunately, Marc's the muscle and Steven's the brains.]

I'm sorry to have bothered you, miss. Didn't even get your name either.

You aren't bothering me.

( truthfully, she's starving for a distraction from the interpersonal drama threatening to brew back in her assigned cabin. shouldered with the duty of counselor or otherwise, being painfully human and somehow managing to drive a rift between a god and his cannibalistic jellyfish boyfriend was... less than ideal in general. then having to room with both of them was worse.

so that reassurance is immediate. her aspirations towards a career in medicine don't matter much anymore, but that same innate drive to help people persists. sometimes it's punctuated with atrocities and acts of the utmost cruelty, but they haven't been pushed towards that on this outing yet.

twins, has been established. but society hasn't changed so much in the future that she doesn't consider it weird that they don't share the same last name. just for a second though, and then she's shifting the clipboard from both hands to just one, extending an open palm to shake hands. )

My name's Clarke Griffin.

Clarke. [He manages a small smile despite his scatterbrained state of mind and takes her hand gently, giving it a few shakes. It sounds more proper when he says it, dropping the R from her name and stretching out the vowel.] It's a lovely name.

[He gingerly pulls his hand back and looks around where they are.]

Have you found your cabin? Do you need any help? I didn't-- mean to just come and throw my problems around.

( she likes to think she's capable of expecting the unexpected, yet had not placed any bets on this anxious man writhing in the confines of his own skin to turn around and start complimenting her name or offering her help in turn. it takes clarke a moment to shake her head. )

I — no, I'm fine. I found my cabin and don't need any help.

( the vast majority of the youths on this ship are fiercely, fiercely independent. sometimes even crossing the line into competent. )

I think I just forgot something at the bus stop and — oh, wait. ( the clipboard in hand is suddenly drawing her attention for the first time since friday had pressed it into her clammy palm. there's a few sheets of paper on it, a list of camp activities and another of names. a quick count doesn't seem to fully encapsulate the full roster of campers who'd filed onto the tender a few hours ago, but across the field behind steven she can spot another cluster of cabins painted blue in stark contrast to their own red huts.

two camps, huh? she hadn't seen bellamy blake yet over here, and scanning the list of names comes up empty for both her best friend, and steven's brother. hilariously enough, the two would end up being bunkmates, but she doesn't know that yet. )

I don't see a Marc assigned to this side, so you're probably better off looking over by the blue cabins.

[He just spends a lot of time being anxious. They could be back on the ship and she could find him sitting next to Marc and he'd still be worrying his lip blabbering on about something else. She'll get used to it.]

Okay. [Just as well the young adults don't need any help because he's no longer a young adult and he definitely needs help.]

Blue cabins? [He follows her line of sight over his own shoulder and spots the cabins. Then he looks to where she had come from and sure enough, they're in red cabins.]

Oh, that's cute. We split up into teams. [The thought that maybe only one team is going to make it out of here or anything like that has obviously not at all crossed Steven's mind.]

Red's alright. I suppose blue is more his colour... Chicago Cubs and all. [He'll start heading towards the blue cabins and see if he can find Marc that way.]

( case number 774239 as to why the serena eterna needs a board certified psychologist: anti-anxiety grounding techniques, probably. but they're shit outta luck in that department, and right now compartmentalizing trauma and respecting anxious ticks is the best they can do.

it doesn't feel like she's helped much, but it's at least something. a place to start, and he seems successfully distracted. for a brief second she considers following him across the field, just to see this reunion through to the end, but... )

Good luck, ( clarke offers once steven turns his back and starts off towards blue camp. she spares a second to struggle to place what a chicago cub was, and what species of infant animal it could make up, but ultimately — she has a nonexistent item to pretend to retrieve from the bus stop, and then a lions den of strained relationships and her own ptsd coping mechanisms: survival proofing aries cabin.

her "help" only goes so far. )

JUNE EVENT: CAMP

CAMP AION

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