come_sailaway | JUNE EVENT: CAMP

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

"If you're going to forget with anyone, it's probably safest to do it with me. I forget I have other interests. It's like my head is a conveyor belt of swords and punching things until something else falls on it."

Gently teasing herself in turn. It's not like her life hadn't mostly consisted of that prior to being abducted.

"That sounds like hell," she wrinkles her face up, "mum always said French rations were the best in the world, but that they still weren't like... good. And yours were probably way before smokeless fuel and shit got invented. Or- your fire doesn't give off smoke, I guess you could've just heated them like that."

Now she's the one getting bogged down in specifics. She goes silent for a moment afterwards, until the pressing emptiness of a birdless forest compels her to speak again.

"Sometimes I wish I was like... properly dead or alive one way or another. Like, either I don't have to do any of that shit, or I get to be warm and have a regular heartbeat again. I'd probably miss eating, but I wouldn't miss having to eat. It's all just exhausting some days."

Like most semantics, it really doesn't matter if they used their own fire or lit campfires; the food was the same. He doesn't remember the meal, but he knows what they were all eating. Meat, potatoes, milk and bread. Not exactly interesting or flavorful.

"At least it's something to fill the time with," Skulduggery says. It's a lukewarm attempt to find a silver-lining; he understands her sentiment, even if their manner of semi-death is different. "Not much of an upside, but... at least you aren't limited for date night?"

He's probably right, and Darcy gives a shrug, because 'you were right' is not a phrase she wants to say to Skulduggery too often.

"We could probably do other things. It's not like we have unlimited options anyway. It... kind of sucks that I met her here, instead of back home. I keep thinking of things I'd want to show her."

The view of the city from the basilica, the ferris wheel at the Place Bellecour, the Croix Rousse Market where she got vegetables and the old ladies would 'accidentally' include things she hadn't paid for. The rivers, winding their way through the city. Was it romantic to be able to point out where you died? Maybe in the older sense of the word.

He knows what that shrug means. He'll accept it without comment, of course, because he's a saint, but he knows he's right.

It's truly a mixed bag. The two of them never would have met if not for the ship -- but they're also stuck here, unable to share the experiences they hold important with each other. The alternative would be to visit one another's realities... but that's unlikely to be allowed. Hell, they're not even sure if they can return to their own places in time and space, much less open doorways between other realities for date night.

"It... isn't ideal," he agrees after a stretch of silence. "Then again, life rarely is. But, you're both enterprising young ladies. I'm sure you'll become trailblazers for all the other romantic couples aboard."

Truly, there has never been anyone more gracious or humble than Skulduggery Pleasant.

Darcy, for her part, hasn't thought about the details too much. She especially hasn't considered the idea of them being forced to separate if and when they go home; she's still firmly in the bubbly, sappy first stages where everything is fine and perfect. As bubbly as Darcy ever gets, anyway.

"God, I hope not. I don't want the whole ship to know about us, and I don't want people who know to jack our shit like that. If we work out something that's actually fun, I'm keeping it to my fucking self."

There were few things aboard the ship that were truly just hers, there's no way she was risking a hypothetical thing between Undine and herself to public scrutiny and invasion.

Skulduggery looks left and right as they walk, very carefully, as if checking for somebody who might be eavesdropping. You know, maybe from a tree, or something. He knows the person he wants to gossip about right now has a tendency to poke out of solid objects every so often...

"There's only one other person I know of aboard who's looking to pursue something romantic," he says, very casually. "And given that someone Undine knows, I'd say chances are you might have to share one or two special spots."

Oh, he is definitely fishing to see if Darcy's overheard anything about Ava's secret crush. It's either this, or dealing with the unnervingly quiet forest. It feels like they keep passing the same set of trees. And none of them look right...

Judging by her reaction, this is a bit of gossip that Darcy has not come across yet.

"No, who?" she asks, "is it someone I know too?"

Talking senseless gossip is the best way to avoid dealing with the terrifyingly generic forest that has seemed to be going on forever. This is why people gossip to begin with, to avoid the crushing horror that is being alive.

"I think so, although last I heard, the two of you had a bit of a falling out." Obviously, he's not going to say right away! Suspense is part of the fun, after all. It wouldn't be gossip if you didn't hem and haw about revealing the names of those involved. "And they certainly have their eye on someone."

He just doesn't know who!

"You have to know how little that narrows it down. You have to know. That just took it from like, the whole ship to maybe two thirds of the ship."

Darcy snorts, presuming he has actually heard of all the near-scraps she's been getting into. Reputations spread fast.

"I don't know- Jinx? I had a fight with Stede recently? Ava? Rich? Max?"

"Damn. I'd hoped maybe Undine had mentioned Ava's crush to you and I'd be able to needle you for details." Because Ava had been just cagey enough to pique his interest, and this had seemed like a convenient enough connection!

"And how have you stepped in it with so many people?" He... does actually sound surprised. Like, mildly. He didn't think it was that bad! "I mean. Stede?"

"Not all of them were my fault!" she argues, "you know I have a hot head, ehn? Stede was just because I tried to teach him to meditate and he freaked out. Rich- okay that one was my fault, but Max was because he doesn't have a sense of humor. He was all 'oh do you own this hallway' and I was like 'yes actually' and he got huffy when I acted like I actually did as a joke."

Clearly not her fault.

"Ugh. But no, Undine hasn't told me anything. She isn't really the type to gossip."

"Oh. Well, no harm done with Stede, then. Too bad that meditation didn't work for him, he certainly could use it." He could probably use a lot of things, really, but that's not for them to decide. They're just lowly crew-mates, after all. "I know for a fact that Maximilien can be a real bastard sometimes. No idea who Rich is, but maybe he's the only one you ought to apologize to."

Since she admitted herself that it was her bad.

"And be nice to Ava, if you could? She likes Undine and thinks you two are cute together. You have no reason to dislike her." Wow. Even he can hear how much of a dad he's being. "Er. That is, you can dislike her if you like, I can't stop you."

"Yeah, you're telling me. I tried to teach it to him to help him keep focus while he's fencing, but he just. Really freaked out on me."

She waves off his recommendation, "I already kind of did. It wasn't a like, proper falling out or anything, I just... Freaked him out a bit. About the dead thing. It was kind of funny. He's cool though, he's got these like, gnarly burn scars."

Coolness is contained in the scarring, after all, and Darcy is very cool. Which leaves the very gentle dad-ing, that she doesn't even really recognize as dad-ing. He's just being concerned. Avery did the same to her, whenever she fought with Terre Mere or Kael.

"She called me a freak, that's not no reason. But I already worked that out, ehn? I'm being nice. You don't need to worry about me."

"I don't need to do anything," Skulduggery points out all-too-glibly, "I choose to worry about you. It's a completely different situation entirely." How? He refuses to elaborate.

"But I suppose if you've already worked things out with them, and it probably was funny..." Which it probably was... "Then I'll keep my hands out of it. Although I am a bit worried about Stede. He's been... jumpy since we got here. Personally, he should have stayed back until he was feeling better, but..." But there's no stopping that man from doing what he thinks he ought to.

Darcy is not going to look directly at how something catches in her throat at Skulduggery's glib comment. It's true, he didn't need to do anything. This wasn't like back home where her Krewe had a responsibility to her, even if only because she was a fellow Sin-Eater, much less the fact that she was a kid. But here, Darcy was her own person, beholden to nobody, as she'd concluded at the end of their last fight. But even so, Skulduggery chose to care about her. For no logical reason. She doesn't have too much time to consider it, as he's already moved on, and is saying something that requires her response.

"Mm- probably, I haven't had a chance to talk to him but... I don't think he should really be going on excursions full stop. Don't get me wrong, Stede has more of a backbone than I was expecting considering he's- you know," she gestures, "but could you imagine him actually having to kill people? What if this wasn't just actually camping?"

As most things go, Skulduggery doesn't notice when he's hit particularly soft spots with his glib remarks. It's a good thing that this time, he unknowingly left a positive mark; better still that he meant it genuinely.

"Agreed. He's stronger than I think even he knows, but it's clear that this..." ...Isn't something he's cut out for. But saying that feels cruel, given how desperate Stede is to prove himself capable. "Well. He asked me a while back that, if a situation arose where Ed might be forced to kill him, I would handle it for them both."

Skulduggery doesn't indicate whether or not he accepted, or whether or not he would be able to do what Stede asked of him. He doesn't think he has to.

"I think he thinks he can minimize the trauma, which would be more convincing if he weren't already clearly traumatized."

If he won't say it, then she will, "isn't his speed," she finishes.

She nods to acknowledge what Stede had asked of Skulduggery. It's not a dumb idea. But it... twists in her gut a little, that she couldn't imagine asking anyone to do the same for herself and Undine. But Darcy's always been the type to want to do things herself.

"I don't know if I'd diagnose him like that, but the dude clearly does need help. It's like... he's trying to avoid something that's already happened."

Like a ghost, fleeing from their cause of death.

"Good luck getting him to a therapist," Skulduggery replies. "...Good luck finding one, for that matter. I'm not sure, but I think our medical personnel is currently lacking."

There isn't much of an alternative, though. Somebody has to talk to the man, get him to learn how to cope with the situation -- but at the same time, he is so damned good at compartmentalizing his trauma that it almost seems worse to make him confront any of it.

"All I can do is provide moral support and pray I never have to shoot the poor man."

"The last thing he or this place needs is a fucking head-shrinker," she snaps derisively altogether too quickly, before she can think better of it.

"I mean- I just think it's not a great idea. If he can't even meditate without freaking out, he won't react well to someone actually trying to get into his head."

It's her being protective, and a distrust of psychologists that goes back to old wounds prior to her death, she just hopes she isn't being too obvious about it.

"I hope you don't have to either. For both of your sakes."

It's a good thing for Darcy that Skulduggery... well. He doesn't feel as strongly about it, but he certainly doesn't think therapy is the panacea it's touted. (~~It is, but he's too stubborn to accept help!~~)

"They would certainly have their work cut out for them. But, no. I doubt he'd handle it well." He'd likely take offense or think something bad was happening when asked a hypothetical. "We can't do anything to stop him from coming along; all we can really do is try to mitigate the damage."

Who knows, maybe this whole thing will turn out to be as innocent as it appears on its face. He'd feel a bit silly if that turned out to be the case... but relieved nonetheless.

Darcy lets out a small sigh in relief when Skulduggery doesn't try and pin her on that. Her antipathy for the profession was the source of a couple of arguments back home, and she kind of hated that this was another way that here was better than home. Nobody tried to control her, or decide how she should feel about shit. Or Skulduggery usually didn't, at least.

But before she can affirm her support for operation 'stop Stede from getting further traumatized', the forest begins to clear up, and Darcy breaks into a light jog, thrilled that the torment of ~~hiking~~ exploring was finally over. Which means she arrives back on the edge of the field before Skulduggery does.

"The fuck!?" she barks, looking back over her shoulder as if to confirm that she did just come from the woods, "did we get turned around?"

Skulduggery continues to stroll along as Darcy rushes ahead to find the end of the trail, hiking in all but name. He does pick up the pace when he hears her shout, breaking the treeline and finding himself --

Huh.

Right back at the start? Except, no. This is the other side of the camp. "Well, that's new," he says, pointing off across the field, back towards the mess hall. "Look. We seem to have come all the way around to the other side."

But they'd been walking a straight line the entire time. He's positive about that.

"Hm..."

She realises he's right, having not paid too much attention to the actual layout beyond how they were back at the field again.

"Fuck. That's... So fucking weird."

A small world, looped around back to the start again? Darcy grunts in frustration- their entire expedition was pointless, then. Or, well, maybe not entirely.

"I guess this means there's nothing out in the woods, right? We were talking the whole time, if something was out there it would've found us by now."

"That is weird." Very weird. How did they not notice when they started to loop? Do the woods somehow alter your direction without your noticing? Are they on a tiny planetoid, with the camp being the center?

"There's still quite a bit of wood left to explore," he thinks, "But I suppose we can rule out anything attacking us immediately." Later, maybe. But they seem to be safe for at least the moment...

"How far do you think that was? It felt like a fairly decent hike." He doesn't acknowledge that he just called it a hike. "I should go find a watch and try again. Maybe I could weave a bit more? See if there's a way to find the stitching where we begin to loop?"

Darcy paused for a moment, holding her hand flat on her chest, trying to feel what her heart was doing. Her legs ached, but that didn't count for much, she would've been surprised if a long walk hadn't fucked with her, considering her confinement on the ship.

"No idea. Definitely longer than the length of the ship. But also. You can do the rest of that yourself, some of us have muscles that can hurt after long walks."

JUNE EVENT: CAMP

CAMP AION

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