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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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.)

"Oh that's true," Ava agrees, pleased with the professed loyalty. It's strange to think of anyone, outside of Bill, as on her side. She often operates with the far more skeptical view that no matter how much everyone wants to claim that they're in this together, under pressure loyalties will crumble and everyone will be out only for themselves. And here she is, being a fool and having two best friends, and falling for a man despite her better judgment, and...

Ava giggles. "When would dear Maximilien not want to show off how much more class he has than the rest of us? And he knows I owe him a favor in return."

(She definitely plans on letting the two of them figure out the best friend situation on their own.)

"Ah, that is true. And there aren't many viable ways to display his class and affluence aboard the ship..." Might as well give dance lessons, right? He absolutely needs to see this. "It must be difficult, being so rich, with no way to flaunt it..."

Hahaha. Man, it is fun teasing Max when he's not here to save himself.

"I'll be there, so long as I don't get completely swallowed up by my obsessions." And he's at least self-aware enough to make fun of himself. That's good!

"One day he'll have to find value and self-worth in other things," Ava does feel a bit sorry for poor (now literally) Maximilien. He worked hard to define himself in the face of a society that didn't allow him full rights, and now that identity has been stripped away. "He doesn't find much meaning on the ship, nothing to really own or status to build."

She frowns, wishing she could think of anything to help. "We joked about auditing the Captain," but she doubts Max would ever go through with it. Not because he's a coward, but there simply isn't much to be gained by it.

"Look. Be obsessed all you want. But you know how sometimes you stare at the same thing for far too long, you stop seeing it? Give yourself a mental break, then come back to it with fresh perspective. Maybe you'll find inspiration in Max's moves. Also I'll need somebody to restrain me from asking him to teach me how to do the robot."

Skulduggery can't help but laugh at the thought of Ava and Max doing the robot together, although he knows the sheer offense would be too much for Max to handle. "I can certainly help with that," he says. "Maybe we can use the time to try and find his hidden interests." He has no idea how much Max has shared with Ava about his reality, but he's willing to bet it's enough.

"He has nothing to prove to either of us, at least. He may not have his wealth and status here, but... at least he has actual personhood." After all, Skulduggery had seen it for himself: Max has a soul, just like SecUnit Rin, just like every other passenger on the ship. There's no fighting that.

"How awful. Personhood," Ava sometimes much rather be nothing, even if losing herself completely is so terrifying.

She closes her eyes again. "So what has your lack of brain been hard at work pondering, exactly?"

"Oh, hush. We have the privilege to deny ourselves if we want." Max, on the other hand, gets enough of that from his reality at large.

Hm. What had he been thinking about? The utter inanity of their situation, mostly. "None of this was what I expected and I suppose I was just... trying to understand the point of it all. It can't just be for the simple experiences of a summer camp, can it? How could any of this be new to him, or provide any insight into... whatever specific magic he's researching?"

He doesn't close his eyes, because he physically can't, but he can distract himself by rolling over, his leg still pinned down as he stares up at the sky again.

She huffs out softly in response. "I wouldn't say I ever had much privilege beyond being shoved into the sublevels of a secret government facility and treated like some lab rat, honestly." There's certainly deeper reasons why she relates closely to Max.

"Well if it was what we expected, then it would have given us a chance to carry out that whole work together plan. And so if nothing else, maybe it was to deny us that chance. I still think there's a purpose, below the surface. Just not... for us, necessarily."

"That is true. I suppose you'll be more adept at helping him find something beyond the money, then." Skulduggery doesn't point out his own inconsistent relationship with the issue, as he still generally gets treated the same as any other sorcerer. Most of the time, anyway.

"I believe what we do is largely incidental. He doesn't bother controlling anything in these excursions personally, after all. He sets up a few basic parameters for us to follow and then watches the results. We could just as easily be murdering one another here, but we all have chosen not to." He chuckles. "Which, I suppose, may be a point in favor of the 'work together' plan."

"Perhaps. Status has never been my own personal concern," Ava responds. "I think I'm just more simple. No lofty aspirations. But if I can help Max realize his Bond villain dreams..." she grins, though it's hidden in her messy curtain of hair.

"Nah, that's more credit than we're due. There's simply no motivation or anything to be gained by pointless killing sprees. Especially when your victims are more than likely to come back. Last time we were motivated by the panic, but when everyone expects it ahead of time..." Ava trails off. "The shock factor has worn off, you know?"

Skulduggery laughs. "He can even adopt the name Goldfinger. It's perfect."

She isn't wrong. It isn't even far off from what he's been thinking, really. "He really ought to have started off with this. We all would have signed up for anything." Except... well. Except the captain had been right. "Not that it mattered in the end. Practically everybody signed up, just like the captain predicted. The threat of death notwithstanding."

"That's awful," and she's laughing right along with him. Actually she has no idea what Max is made of. Fancy and shiny and probably expensive. But hopefully more durable than gold.

"Probably because what people hate more than death, is being left out. FOMO, YOLO."

He knows the first acronym but not the latter; that's fine, he can guess it's similar enough. "Seeing what you all went through did inspire a fair amount of guilt among those of us who chose to say." That's why he signed up, after all. Never mind what the captain had said; he'd known the moment he saw the violence unfolding on the screens that he was never going to be able to sit idly by again.

"For better or worse, I won't be sitting out again. And I doubt I'm the only one."

"You don't want to idly sit out, yet..." look, you're kinda sitting out anyway, which she understands. She came out to get away for a bit as well. "Are you disappointed? That you weren't given direct orders to disobey?"

"I would rather be uselessly kicking rocks here than be forced to helplessly watch you die all over again." It's as simple as that. "And there's nothing disappointing about a peaceful excursion. Even if I am irritated at the captain's obvious laziness."

"Yeah, he's clearly not all that devil in the detail-oriented. I think he's more one of those bigger picture book thinkers," Ava giggles. "What would you have done differently, then?"

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