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

( sigh.

she doesn't want to use mizuki like that, except she also very much does. but she'd been hoping to regain some level of trust that he insists isn't missing, or at least put a little more distance between their unpleasant confrontation (also these terribly awkward cabin arrangements) and more demands on her end before trying to pull on his heartstrings and see what comes out.

but the fact remains: even if ebalon doesn't know she hates him, he likes mizuki. enough to promise to do better, and that's a level of trust and intimacy that breaks down personal barriers and spills secrets across pillows. )

It's nothing I need to know immediately. How about you just let me know whatever you hear from Ebalon in the meantime. Then when I go to him with questions, I'll at least have a better idea what I'm trying to ask, you know?

[ It's a little more than "likes" at this point, but to call it love might also be an insult. They're weird and gross, do not look at the eldritch horrors. ]

Um... [ Again, he's not opposed to bringing information to Clarke about this. He's used to giving reports to the Doctor back home, but they were always very summarized and plain. To do something like this, where he has to be more in detail, when there's simultaneously so much and so little to tell? He's at a bit of a loss to what's important for her to know and what isn't. ]

So, you just want to know the stuff that's about how it works? I'm fine with that, of course, but... if I could get a more specific directive, I might be able to help a little more. "Whatever I hear" from Ebalon is quite a lot, after all.

( there's the temptation of whatever and everything, because she knows from experience that the smallest detail may end up breaking the case and saving the world. but, boil this request down to it's barest bones?

all she really wants is the wards. and maybe what they mean. the rest could be figured out, her questions spread across the other magic users on board. so for specific directives — )

If he ever shows you sigils or even if you just see them in his room, could you bring them to me? Or just like, take a picture and send it my way? That's all I'm curious about right now, what those little symbols look like and what they mean.

[ Well, that's easy enough. Ebalon shouldn't give him much resistance if he goes asking about those, especially since he's expressed interest himself in trying them. ]

Sure. That shouldn't be a problem. Am I keeping this conversation between us? [ Or, more accurately, "Am I not allowed to tell him you asked?" ]

( HRNK.... )

...I'm not going to ask you to keep anything from your boyfriend, Mizuki.

( but like, use ya brain babe. if he's more likely to answer those questions just for you, there's no need to share who else is after them, right? )

[ Moon jellyfish don't have brains, actually. Besides, once again, Ebalon has no idea Clarke is even mad at him! Mizuki is almost positive he'd be fine sharing most of his sigil magic with her?! He'll bring it up himself and honestly whatever happens in the conversation, happens. Especially if Clarke is going to be so wishy-washy on her orders! ]

Well, no, but secrets are secrets. You are also quite important to me. I wouldn't want to keep anything from-... [ … ]

Oh!!! Clarke! That reminds me! I... um. Maybe this isn't the best time to talk about it, actually. But, uh... wh-whenever you're free, there is something I need to talk to you about...

( what an ominous conversational transition but UH. OKAY. )

I'm free right now.

( honestly the title of camp counselor is a joke, there's very little for her to do here except sate her own furious need to explore, collect, fortify, and make sure the people she cares for are safe. and mizuki's one of those people, so... )

What's wrong?

Oh, I... [ Like RIGHT NOW? Geez, Clarke! Yes, it's on Mizuki for bringing it up at all, but he's known to just sort of spit out whatever it on his mind without any filter. ] It's... not a fun conversation. I wouldn't wanna sour the mood or nothing. 'Specially not with things being so tense here.

[ Referring to the excursion in general, which he expresses with a gesture to the scenery around them. ]

( YES RIGHT NOW nobody likes being hit with the "we need to talk" and then strung along on an anxiety leash. at least this time she has the fair warning it's an unfun conversation, and a scant few seconds to take a deep breath and steel her feelings away. absolutely, 100% expecting this to be a follow-up confrontation.

she loves the friendship bracelets, will likely never take the blue and white one around her wrist off unless necessary, but. all in all, clarke's not having a very fun time at camp. what could potentially sour the fear of dying at any given moment? )

I don't imagine things getting less tense when we're back on the boat. It's alright, Mizuki, what's going on?

[ His eyes go to the floor, his smile not quite disappearing, but definitely a lot more somber. ]

It's... um... it's about me. Some things I found out recently and why I'm, uh... [ Unsettling? Obsessive? Very violent? Unhealthily dependent? ] …not right, I suppose.

( oh.

look, it would be absolutely stupid not to acknowledge the fact mizuki was different than most people she'd met. not on the basis of being a cannibalistic jellyfish (terrifying, not healthy, but still one of the less prevalent parts of his personality). but clarke had admittedly chalked a lot of that up to childhood trauma and becoming a weird hand puppet for the fabled doctor he'd talked about so much. she'd met people indoctrinated into a specific way of thinking, or set upon a specific path by someone else. ontari had murdered a room full of children and forcibly taken over a throne after the ice queen had been killed, at least mizuki wasn't on a baby killing rampage...

but there was still a disconnect between them. some things about one another they'd never completely agree upon. some moments where mizuki's antics have gotten so far under her skin that she's outright sent him away...

but not right? that doesn't sound incredibly accurate. )

...Are you sick?

[ He shakes his head. Realistically, it's not something he wants to talk about, like, at all. Mizuki has always thought himself to be a good person. Maybe a little misunderstood, and maybe a little immature, but a good person. Not a hero, because he'll never be able to make decisions like Clarke. But that's the thing, isn't it? That he can't make decisions. That being presented with things that need an observant, rational mind makes Mizuki just shut down. He has that urge to listen to the valiant and brave, and ignore whatever is rumbling around in his own head because none of it made any sense.

He inhales slowly through his nose, then out through his mouth. But now? He has to admit that he's not a good person. No, quite the opposite, he's in fact part of the very vile people he detests so much. Those monsters that deserve to be eaten and rid of from the world. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't hungry for it, even now. But he has people around to keep him from doing anything drastic. For now, anyway. ]

No. I'm just... [ … ] Can I tell you a little bit about my world, before I get into it?

( there really is quite the buildup to the entirety of this reveal, and clarke's absolutely looking at mizuki like he's about to fall over or vomit. concern etches her features, maybe a hint of alarm, but at least for now no horror or disgust. curiosity is there too, in the purse of her lips and the way she crowds forward like she means to put a hand on his arm and squeeze — before remembering that, yanno. she still felt like shit. )

Sure. Tell me anything, but — should we sit?

[ He goes to say he's okay, but vaguely stops himself to nod instead. Actually, it's better they do. Even if Clarke wants to leave afterwards and shove their relationship off a moving train after this, he'd… be devasted, sure, but it's understandable. It's not like something like this should be hidden from someone he cares so much about.

But he doesn't actually move all that far from where they currently are, just finding something to lean up against and sitting on the ground like an idiot and looking up at Clarke so she'll join him. ]

( faintly, she desires a table here. like when they'd sat near but diagonally separated from each other in the buffet, stuffing their faces with undercooked or excessively greasy meat and discussing the finer points of cannibalism, society, and god killing. but actively acknowledging she misses life on the ship feels like a primal sort of betrayal to her own standards, and thus clarke will make the best out of sitting on the ground.

mizuki chooses to slot his back against some sort of structure, let's say it's the outside of their cabin, and she considers leaning against the rough wood paneling beside him, but ultimately sits down on her knees directly in front of him. folds her hands in her bare lap, but ready to reach out to mizuki if the mood took a steep emotional dive off a cliff. )

[ Well, he's already been metaphorically tearing himself up about this for a while, so it's unlikely he'll spiral too much. Hopefully, anyway. Really, there's no telling, since Clarke is… well, she could say something that might change that. Or just leave. She could just leave. And while Mizuki knows that's a possibility, he isn't prepared for it in the slightest. Fortunately, he gets to start with the easy part. ]

I brought this up briefly, when we discussed gods, but... I'm gonna say it again, with a little more detail, if that's alright. My race — other Aegir, from both the country of Aegir and the country of Iberia, are at war with another race or… species of beings known as Seaborns, or "Sea Terrors". They are highly adaptable creatures, evolving rapidly into forms that best suit their environment. The ones closer to civilization can look like plants or birds or even humanoid. The ones deeper under Terra's oceans look much more… eldritch in nature.

[ Inky, black, horrifying. You know. The works. He doesn't bring this up yet, though. ]

They lack individuality because they share a hivemind with Genesezoic, or the Seaborn God. It's at the bottom of the ocean, in the deepest reaches of Terra's waters. [ … ] It's asleep now. As I said before, a team of Aegir-Seaborn hybrids were dispatched to "kill" it, but gods in my world cannot be killed as far as we're aware. So it is just asleep for now.

… Those hunters, the Aegir-Seaborn hybrids, were genetically modified. The amount of Seaborn blood they have in them is just enough for them to pinpoint other Seaborns. Just enough to give them Seaborn strength and senses and adaptability. They're heroes and… don't have to worry about Genesezoic's influence because they were heavily monitored and such after being modified. [ … ] For a while, I was told I wasn't allowed to meet them, despite my excitement to. I didn't try to, even if they were heroes. But I think I know why I wasn't able to.

[ He pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs them. ]

But, like I said, hybrids like that can sense other Seaborns, so… of course I wasn't allowed near them. It's because my doctors knew that I was also a hybrid…

[ … ]

Clarke, I'm a monster.

( honestly, what is it with all of her friends insisting they were monsters?

like they're some foreign species, and inherently filthy just for the lives the live, the manifestation of what they are, or the things they've had to do. bellamy's considered himself on since before he ever properly killed a man, natsuno wears the title like a shroud to obscure all the good parts of his soul just because he was a vampire, and then there's mizuki...

clarke listens intently to every word that falls from his lips, and tries her hardest to understand. not just comprehend, but understand. he's deserving of that much, even if the finer points of his world and circumstances are still beyond the scope of her mind. a hivemind isn't a new concept for her, when a.l.i.e. had sought to bring souls to the city of light by forcing them to ingest microchips, every participant had shared the same consciousness — raven reyes had looked her in the face and thrown weaknesses only her mother knew in her face. genetic modification, like what becca franco had implemented to allow humanity to survive above ground after the first deathwave. like what clarke had done to herself in an attempt to survive the second.

hybrids.

monsters.

terrifying things in theory. but he curls into himself so tightly and really just looks like a child in this moment. )

...hey.

( one word, a soft summoning meant to drag mizuki from his self deprecating reverie and demand he look at her. then she's reaching out one hand, palm up and suspended halfway between the two of them. a litany of absolution rests on her tongue, but she's not saying another word until he takes her hand and lets her squeeze his fingers. )

[ Sounds like maybe Clarke just needs to stop surrounding herself with monsters.

Really, it's on Mizuki for, you know, outright saying it like that. It's not entirely fair. He's not a complete monster. Just some gross amalgamation of one. He's not sure how much. He wasn't made this way in a lab. He's not sure what caused it, really, but it certainly wasn't a natural way. Thus, it's safe to assume that he's got quite a lot of it inside of him. Especially if the other hybrids aren't anything like him, and could instantly ping him as a "full" Seaborn just from being in the same room as them.

…

He picks his head up a little, but stays huddled. He doesn't take her hand, but does vaguely reach one of his own out. All the same, he keeps smiling. ]

I'm alright. I'm just letting you know, y'know? I think it's kind of something important to make those important to me aware of, ehe. [ Everyone had taken it very well so far. Venti was the one who helped him figure it out. And Ebalon… lives in a world where stuff like this is commonplace. (Plus, he's a demon himself? So…) But Clarke's human. Her world sucks, and it presumably doesn't even have things like Mizuki there. So the fact that something like him is something she has to deal with now… ]

( the fact that something like him is something she has to deal with now... is really actually quite par for the course. a little over a year ago, clarke griffin would have very confidently regurgitated ancient facts about earth like she knew what she was talking about, but the second the 100 had touched down nothing had been like they'd expected. other survivors of the apocalypse, two headed horses and two faced deer; river monsters and murderous artificial intelligences; death waves and acid rain, augmented blood, cults and microchips containing the consciousness of generations of rulers before their time...

would it have really shocked her to learn of something like mizuki in her world? he looks human enough that he could just be another grounder, mutated to be seafaring but — there's no gods in her world so far as she's aware. nothing sleeping at the bottom of the ocean, no one trying to kill it, no one unbreakably bound to it...

if mizuki won't cross the boundary of physical contact here, clarke will. curls her fingers around his and drags his hand back to rest on her knee with a gentle, encouraging squeeze. )

I appreciate you telling me. And even if I don't necessarily understand the weight what you're telling me would have in your homeworld, I understand what monsters are. You're not one, Mizuki, so please don't talk about yourself as if you were.

[ Well, "the weight" of it isn't even something Mizuki knows. Besides having Genesezoic's influence making his thoughts all weird, he doesn't actually know much about it. Besides, you know, the hivemind, and the Seaborns. But, still, it's enough to warrant worry from Mizuki because, well, his thoughts ARE weird. He's never been able to be… understood by others. He's never been able to understand others himself. He doesn't know if that's all to blame on his Seaborn side or it just exemplified something that already existed inside of him. He likes to have something to blame. Something to say "It's not my fault." But, even then, at the end of the day, isn't it? Isn't it his fault when he choses to listen to his thoughts? Even if he can't discern the ones that come from the ancient blood's influence, does that really matter if he acts on these things?

He doesn't know. He's such a special case of psychology, and he doesn't know how to ask the questions that rise from such a thing. Who would he ask? Who understands him? … Maybe Ebalon? ]

Oh, you misunderstand, Clarke. I am not expecting you to try to tell me I'm not something I am. That was just to summarize, in case I couldn't properly convey what I was trying to tell you.

[ The smile only comes because he's recited these lines before. "It's okay," he repeats in his head over and over.

He is shaking. ]

( they're obviously working from very different definitions of what makes a monster then, and that shouldn't be surprising. there's always seemed to be a disconnect in the way the two of them viewed the world — she'd choked over an effort to impress upon him how blood-soaked her hands were, and mizuki'd offered her a lacking sort of absolution without even knowing how deep the trench graves ran. and now he's sitting in front of her shaking, and the only immediate comfort she has is the sweep of her thumb across the backs of his knuckles. )

Okay, then can I try again?

( a rephrase, a different approach. the stroke of her thumb across his skin slows and then ceases like a failing heartbeat, replaced by a slight squeeze of his fingers. )

You're not a monster to me. If you absolutely have to, call yourself whatever you need to in order to make it make sense. But know that's not what I see when I look at you.

Edited 2022-06-23 06:13 (UTC)

Ah… Thank you. I do appreciate it. [ Even if she is wrong.

This sucks. He feels like he wasn't able to truly convey what this means to her. But there's no kind way to say "hey, I have an ancient, horrible deity in my head" without pushing people away. And he doesn't want to do that. He wants Clarke to stay, evident by the way he desperately returned her squeezes. ]

Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down or anything! I just feel bad keeping things about me to myself.

( he'd done a decent job explaining himself, that's not where the disconnect stems from here. clarke's metric for monstrosities is just entirely hinged on how much of a threat they pose to her specifically — that'd been the first thing she'd asked natsuno when he revealed he was a vampire, after all: are you going to hurt me? — and despite the massive slight and continual emotional fallout after venti... mizuki wouldn't hurt her.

...right?

sitting here, holding hands, with a sloppy but sentimental friendship bracelet secured around her wrist, clarke doesn't think he would. real monsters don't organize picnics. )

What mood? ( this scoffing sort of acknowledgement of the camp around them is about as close to humor as clarke gets, but she's trying. ) I don't know about you, but I keep waiting for some sort of noxious gas to roll out from the treeline and kill us all. I don't get the point of this really just being a camping trip.

[ Well, Mizuki thought he couldn't ever hurt Venti, either, and yet had very strong thoughts to choke the idiot all the same, so it's really no telling anymore who he'll hurt. He wants to believe he won't hurt Clarke. However, wanting something and following through with it is apparently something both the Amuyu boys are terrible at. ]

To throw us off, maybe. Have us tense all camping trip and on edge, only to end up back on the ship safe and sound. That sounds like a punchline, doesn't it? [ … ] Or, you know, maybe the bus shows up and Friday's not on it and we have to figure out how to drive it through the barrier, only to crash instead, bringing the trip to a terribly anti-climatic ending. Ehe…

( for a second, she looks at mizuki like he's just grown three additional heads. and then the shock turns to alarm because, yanno what, that's a horrendous ending she hadn't even begun to consider the likes of. for one who's barely even played an arcade game, clarke apparently subscribes to the thought of save points, where the big bad can't touch them, and figures if they survived camp the bus back would basically be considered reaching a safe zone.

but now.

but now...! )

I — she wouldn't, right? Not without the Captain's orders, and then — he wouldn't do that, that's not... his style.

( unless it were funny??? congrats mizuki, ya threw a wrench into her logical approach and now the gears are turning so aggressively they're smoking. )

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