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!

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There's a split moment where Skulduggery almost allows himself to be offended at the comment. As if he would want to dedicate any devotion to the sort of god the captain wants to be. But it passes. After all, maybe she's right. He has been focused almost entirely on their captor, hasn't he?

For good reason, he thinks.

"What I want?" Skulduggery chuckles. "Ava, I want to go home. I want to be back in Ireland, with my friends and my car and a magical system that makes sense. I want to solve mysteries and fight the bad guys, the ones who can be punched and shot and reasoned with."

He makes a noise similar to a tongue clicking against his teeth. "But I can't go home. I'm stuck here, in a reality where the only pastimes are eating, drinking, and sleeping. None of the magic is what I'm used to, none of my friends are here... The only thing that's familiar to me here is the captain."

Which sounds pathetic, when he says it aloud. But it's the truth. What else is there for him on the ship? Is he supposed to lounge by the pool, frozen drink melting by him while he bleaches? Should he be spending more time placing aimless bets at the casino? What else in the world is he supposed to do?

None of his friends. There's a cold twist of doubt in her stomach.

Right after she signed that encoded note to him, that he was her best friend. (Max's too, but she refused to choose between the two.) But if that had been true, they'd have seen each other before now. Ava rolls over onto her side, plucking at at blades of grass.

"All I mean is... life itself is inherently devoid of meaning. Back home, here. And we weaken ourselves when we look to figures of authority or... deities to give that to us. We're not puppets looking for stage directions, Skulduggery. Maybe there's no winning, but losing is letting him pull you along on a string."

"I don't expect anyone else to follow my obsessive footprints, but this is the kind of person I've always been. What would you rather have me do? Play on the ropes course? Roast marshmallows by the fire?" He laughs. "I like solving mysteries. Maybe the captain isn't stringing me along so much as we're playing a thematically-appropriate game of tug-of-war."

Skulduggery doesn't notice at first that what he's said has struck an unhappy chord. He watches her move, but it isn't until she speaks that he realizes he might've made a mistake. Maybe it was talking about wanting to go home? He knows she's conflicted about her own reality. Or it might've been the implication that he had other friends that he misses?

"...Although, I suppose if you asked me to sit around the campfire making s'mores, I would oblige. Best friend privileges, and all."

"I understand obsession. It destroyed my father, created me. And I blindly carried on with his legacy of obsession until it nearly destroyed me as well. All for a man that didn't even know I existed. I spent my entire life fighting and killing believing somehow that'd save me. And then at the end of it, I couldn't even figure out... why. What I even had to live for. I don't want you to... be so empty," Ava admits quietly. "I get it, everyone wants to figure this all out and go home." Well, not her. Especially if all she has to look forward to is dust.

"But this is... the only opportunity I've ever had to do this sort of thing. Yes, I know it's a pointless distraction. But so what if I want to maybe enjoy it for a moment with the people I've come to care about."

Ava swallows roughly. "And you can't even eat marshmallows."

He can't help but think about Valkyrie as Ava talks. Can't help but think about all of the warnings other sorcerers had given her about Skulduggery, time and again. It's the burden of the obsessed to invariably drag everyone else down with them. It's probably a good thing that he's not going to see her again.

Skulduggery sits up, folding his arms over his knees. He doesn't want to look at the stars, fake or not. "I... am not going home," he says, the words coming slowly as he says them aloud for the first time. "Moments before I was taken aboard the Eterna, I... was being pulled through a portal. Whatever lies on the other side of that portal will likely be the death of me. I know I can never go home again, or apologize to the people I abandoned. I'm stuck here."

There, he thinks. That wasn't so bad. He barely feels terrible about it at all.

"All I want to do is stop the captain from using us as fuel. If that weren't an issue, I would be happy to participate in arts and crafts, or kayaking, or whatever you'd like to see me do. And maybe I can't eat marshmallows, but I could throw them at Maximilien. Or Darcy." That would be fun. He would actually rather enjoy that.

"Oh," she states softly, because the impossibility of his desire to go home is apparently two-fold, beyond just defeating the captain at his own game. "I didn't... know." And she suddenly feels so selfish, for wanting to keep Skulduggery here for herself, away from all the people he cares about (his real friends) and the world he'll never see again. Even though none of it is even up to her and she's not the one that took that away from him.

She's a bad counselor. A bad friend, because she knows no way to comfort him. She rolls back over, this time to face his way. She doesn't quite have the energy to sit, softly pawing at the grass and remembering how easy it was so sink into the ground.

"We're stuck here," she agrees, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of those things."

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. "You couldn't have known. I haven't told anyone before now." Out of pride? Or out of fear? Vocalizing it makes it true, after all.

Her apology has him twisting to look at her. "You have nothing to apologize for. Everything you said was true. I spent the first three days trying to find an enemy for us to face, with nothing to show for it. It isn't playing into the captain's hand -- I've simply been wasting my time."

He could have at least spent more time appreciating the novelty of the situation if nothing else. Not the magical form and function of it, but the simple entertainment of being somewhere unfamiliar and apparently safe.

He flops back down, on his side and facing Ava. It isn't an exact mirroring of her position as he props himself up on his elbow, but it's the thought that counts. "Hopefully you've found something satisfying in all of this, at least. I know you found the cabin names inspiring..."

Perhaps she feels just a bit special, that he'd confide such a thing in her that he hadn't anyone else. "It's a... terrible truth, isn't it. Knowing there's nothing left for you, back home. Something strange was happening, right before I came here. Had nightmares about it for weeks. Dust..." she trails off. "I never could quite figure it out, until..." Ava frowns uncertainly. Because it was Steven that told her, not knowing that they were from the same world. And she's been so unkind to him ever since.

"I have a lot to apologize for. To so many people. I spent my first several days locked inside my cabin, kicked the rest of them out because I decided my comfort was more important than theirs. Maybe there is an enemy, and it's just... our horrible, selfish nature." Mostly hers.

She doesn't quite manage to prop herself up on her elbow, but she folds an arm under her head. "Hah, yes. Figured if there was no fun to be had, I'd just make my own. But. I do have a... date to the dance."

Steven had mentioned the people turning to ash, and so Skulduggery knows loosely what she's referring to. He had hoped she might be able to provide more insight, but it's clear to him now that she doesn't know much more than he'd been told.

"I think, maybe, you are a bit harder on yourself than you need to be." He kicks her shin, more like a gentle tap than anything. "And I'm sure you'll be able to make it up to them."

Oh... right. He forgot about the dance. That might be the best time to explore the camp without anyone else interfering. He could pry some floorboards up, maybe take the symbols off the cabins? But first:

"Oh, good, does this mean I can finally know the name of your mysterious crush?" Because gossip comes before everything, obviously.

She's not sure where there are so many people from her own world (or at least one similar enough to share history.) "Maybe you could return, but to a different point in time..." Ava wonders. "Sarge is from my past, and the not-twins are from my future. So theoretically..." Except messing around with time is a nasty, dangerous thing with all sorts of unpredictable consequences.

And sometimes she thinks everyone goes far too easy on her, for reasons she can't quite figure out. But she hums, complaisant. Doesn't want to argue why she's so unforgivable. He's right though, she needs to make it up to them.

Honestly, if she hadn't been invited to the dance, Ava would take her own opportunity to go snooping instead. Go through people's things, look for anything suspicious. Just because they hadn't all been given direction, doesn't mean somebody-

Ava gives out a bit of a squeak of protest, tossing a couple blades of grass at Skulduggery, that harmlessly float back to the ground. "I was hoping you'd figure it out on your own, so you didn't have to embarrass me with such a discussion."

There's nowhere in Skulduggery's past he'd like to go back to, and so he only shakes his head at the thought. Besides, just as Ava's thinking it, so is he: messing with time is dangerous, and it's generally best left alone.

"How am I supposed to figure it out? I don't know who you know. For all I know, you could have become deeply infatuated with Maximilien." Wait. "Wait, it isn't him, is it? No, it can't be. Last I saw, he was standing still and trying to pretend none of this was happening, so he certainly isn't up for dancing."

He drops back dramatically into the grass. "I'm sorry, but I think this might be the one mystery too difficult for me to solve without your help." Or the one he's most impatient about. He could literally just wait a few days, and he knows it.

"Shows what you know, Maximilien is going to be providing me with dance lessons," Ava boasts. She does like the Omnic quite a bit, but she's doubtful of any potential romantic relationship between them. Even if she does find him sleek and alluring. "And I bet he knows who it is... given I mixed up their notes."

So damn embarrassing.

"Fine. But I doubt you'd even know him. He keeps to himself a lot. He's not particularly... special in any obvious way. Just a normal guy." She doesn't mean it in any negative way. Quite the opposite.

"He is?" What a surprise. Max certainly likes to paint himself as some kind of bad guy, and sometimes he does manage to almost fit the bill, but then Skulduggery talks to Ava and finds out the guy has tea parties and is willing to teach someone how to dance.

"Well, if he does know, he hasn't said anything to me. Then again, I spent most of yesterday in the lake, so..." Not a place Max is likely to hang around. He gives her leg another light kick. "I promise to not make fun of you no matter how boring or mundane your crush turns out to be."

If he has to wait until the dance, on the other hand, he might have to tease her.

It's absolutely best friend privileges. Their little C-list villain club of 2. "Yeah, I'm glad at least giving him a puzzle to solve got him out of his..." Ava waves her hand vaguely. "State." You know, the whole pretending to be part of the landscaping. "And I wasn't sure who else to ask. He's the fanciest guy I know."

She raises her brows at the being in the lake bit. No wonder she had troubles tracking him down. And to prevent him from kicking again, Ava locks her ankle over his with a triumphant little 'hah.'

"I don't think he's boring. Not at all. I've just had a whole lot of, you know, excitement in my life. Not the good kind. And he's been through a lot, it's not like he's... completely normal. We actually can relate on a lot of things." She doesn't want to bring up his past and mental health issues though, that's not hers to share.

Skulduggery would pout but he doesn't have the face for it. He settles for picking a single blade of grass and tossing it at her. "I'm going to start shouting for Maximilien. He'll come running, you know, and then he'll tell me. It's guaranteed to be more humiliating that way."

She tries swiping the grass out of the air and misses entirely. Grass doesn't have the most predictable aerodynamics.

"Fiiiine," Ava draws out a sigh. "HisnameisMalcolmandhe'sverynice."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that?"

"I said. His name. Is Malcolm. And he's very nice." Ava overemphasizes the words. And her face is so very flushed until she buries it right into the grass in embarrassment.

"Oh!" He was definitely going to tease her, but he knows Malcolm! "The homicide detective with the NYPD? He is very nice." He even gives a short, appreciative whistle for emphasis. "He's seemed to be a good guy when I spoke with him, at least. And the eyes are quite striking, aren't they?"

Hehehe. He can still embarrass Ava in a completely different way!

Oh. She's not sure why she's surprised they've actually met. Not like it's that big of a ship. Except she's never heard either talk about the other. But it does mean a lot, to hear Skulduggery's opinion of Malcolm.

"They're so blue..." Ava complains into the grass as if it's the most miserable thing in the world. God, she could stare into them forever.

"They are," Skulduggery chuckles. "I've only met him a couple of times, admittedly, but they were all positive interactions. Barely even mentioned I was a skeleton at all, and he didn't scoff openly at my suggestion of negotiating with the captain."

"He doesn't really have the advantage, of coming from such strange worlds as ours. But I think that allows him a more, you know, grounded perspective. I get so caught up and distracted sometimes, it's so easy to lose sight of what's... important. And then he comes along and..."

Ava sighs softly.

It strikes Skulduggery in that moment, just how young Ava is. How young they all are -- her and Malcolm, Darcy and Undine. They're all experiencing something exciting and new, some for the first time, and the potential is laid out as brightly as the faux stars above. Their lives have the possibility to stretch on in fantastic new directions, assuming they can avoid the fate of the previous passengers.

He'd followed that same path once upon a time, but his memory of the time has eroded away, leaving only vague impressions where fine details should lie. Living vicariously through them is the only way he can recall what that spark was even like.

"I'm glad for you," he says, genuinely meaning it. Even if it's a little selfish, living vicariously is still living. Cheerfully going on, he adds, "If he hurts you in any way, shape or form, I'll shoot him."

"Sweet of you to assume I'm not the one doing the hypothetical hurting," because she has absolutely no idea what she's doing. She can barely manage her own feelings, much less anyone else's. Even with the best of intentions, even though she doesn't want to mess everything up, there's going to be mistakes and misunderstandings and she can only hope that he'll be forgiving.

"Do you want to come along, to the dance lessons?" Ava asks hopefully. "You know I don't think the three of us have ever spent time together."

"I'm not his best friend," Skulduggery points out. He thinks that's a fair and balanced argument in favor of his one-sided shotgun talk. "And yes, obviously I do. I can't believe he's teaching you how to dance. I thought he couldn't even stand without those rubber booties on his feet."

It's a sixty-forty split on teasing and wanting to spend time with Ava and Max. Because Ava's right, and they haven't actually spent any time together. (He might not know now that Max and he both received the title of "Best Friend," but he won't be remotely surprised or upset to find out.)

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