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

[treadwater]

[Undine is glad to teach, though she gathers supplies first--a couple sturdy pieces of cardboard to cut into circles to braid over. Yarn instead of standard embroidery floss. She sets up the disc with the yarn and shows Clarke the braiding pattern. The loose ends appear much longer than would be needed for most friendship bracelet styles, but Undine seems confident in what she needs.]

So the string that's between 32 and 1 will go across the disc and into the slot that's between 17 and 18. Then the string between 8 and 9 will go across to between 25 and 26. You'll get the feel for it, after a while.

[skaikru]

( with the same energy she used to sit at her mother's elbow and dutifully map diagrams of internal organs, clarke watches. counts the notches on that wheel, very rarely flicking her gaze to undine's face, but more avidly affixed to the pattern of the string once the other girl starts to explain how they're meant to criss-cross.

she'll reach out her hand after a brief absorption of the instructions. ) Can I try?

( it seems like a matter of weaving at varying degrees but equally, and she's always learned new weapons best by trying them out herself. )

[treadwater]

Sure, of course!

[She passes the disc over.]

This should hold up amazingly well for any use you have for it.

[skaikru]

( tragically, clarke can imagine there will always be new uses for something like this. but better to have it and be able to trust the history behind it's invention that it won't break when pressure is applied to the situation, than to not.

she takes the disc carefully, despite it being made of little more than cardboard, and attempts to follow the pattern she'd watched unfold under undine's fingers. but —

steady hand or not, at some point clarke messes up and it takes a few more rotations to realize the chord is coming out lopsided and lumpy. ) God dammit, ( she seethes under her breath. it's a small mishap, yet somehow earns a vicious projection of all her internalized frustrations with their entire situation as she sharply goes about unwinding her work. )

[treadwater]

Hey, deep breath. Small mistakes, especially in the first couple of inches, won't mess up the integrity of the braid. You'll get a feel for the pattern as you go.

[Undine cuts another disc and sets herself up a braid so she can demonstrate the technique while Clarke has it in her hand. So they can work side-by-side.]

[skaikru]

( that's a true kindness: taking the time out of whatever predetermined task undine had at hand and falling in step with someone who's struggling to complete their own. it's helpful too, once the other girl's disk and strings are situated, clarke sets about trying again — glancing over at undine's hands several times to get a proper feel for the pattern.

they work side-by-side, and in silence for a decent stretch of time, before: )

I don't think we've met.

( knowing other members of the ships manifest by sidelong glances across rooms, or reruns of the battle royale aren't the same as proper introductions. )

My name's Clarke.

[treadwater]

I'm Undine. Cabin 114.

[Because that way, Clarke can get in contact with her, if she wants or needs to.]

Liking this expedition a lot better than the last, personally.

[skaikru]

( what a beautifully efficient introduction, clarke's gonna have to borrow that. )

It's got a more relaxed aura, yeah. But I can't —

( trust the captain? trust anything they see, smell, feel, eat, or hear? relax? forget the sensation of bleeding out? the paranoia is almost cripplingly rampant, she's just perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop and murder to run rampant again. )

...I haven't gotten over the last one, you know?

[treadwater]

Yeah. I know what you mean. My therapist back home gave me tips on dealing with situations where I couldn't stop seeing the bad and being scared of everything falling apart. I've had to apply them to everything a lot, since ending up on the ship.

[Make of that what you will, Clarke.]

[skaikru]

( she makes nothing of it other than solidarity in anxiety and constantly contemplating the end of the world, and maybe a bit of a wistful sigh because it'd be really nice to have a therapist probably. )

Are they working?

[treadwater]

Kind of. Sometimes, at least. It's an adjustment, because the problems here are a bit different. Not entirely, but the framework I need to build to give myself grace is different. Does that make sense?

[There is no Founder here. She was not chosen to be a warrior, but instead to be a victim, and she feels that sometimes.]

[skaikru]

...yeah. ( a shrug, a silent acknowledgement that it makes as much sense as anything else around here despite also having to readjust her world understanding to survive on the ship and these excursions. clarke just doesn't leave any room for grace. )

Sorry for prying.

[treadwater]

It's alright. I think...we need to know as much about one another as possible, to figure out things. To plan a way through things.

[skaikru]

It'd be nice, if we were all just like Friday and got some personalized run-down sheet on every new person to wake up here. A lot of the people here are a little cagey. Secretive.

( ...it's clarke, she's people. )

I'd settle for just knowing who was dangerous.