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

[saltandpepperbeard]

"Yeah. Don't even have discs this time." Effie had attempted to explain at the first party, but Ed's not sure it really sank in. Somehow the discs had the songs, but they don't have anyone changing out the discs this time. How the hell does it work?

Oh look, is that observation a hint, Captain Bonnet?

He raises their joined hands and turns Stede's palm to where Ed can study it. On the open hand, Ed draws his mark, an X, with his finger. It's probably the least permanent form of his mark he's ever left on anyone's skin, but Ed can almost feel an echo of the touch on his own hand.

"Looks like that's my mark on your dance card," he says, showing Stede the man's own empty palm and then gesturing to the dance floor.

[touchofcashmere]

"Discs...?" As soon as the question leaves his tongue, it's all but forgotten as Ed lifts their hands and stares at his palm. A part of him wonders if Ed is going to kiss it and he wonders what that will feel like and how he will keep his knees from wobbling.

Ed's finger tracing an X on his hand is somehow better and worse, and he can feel the faint traces of heat left behind as if burned there. He almost wants to kiss the spot to preserve it but then Ed tells him why it's there ...

And the feeling is back, but stronger, and he's full on blushing everywhere he's sure, completely suffused with a warm heat that has nothing to do with desire. Or at least not the desires of the purely physical.

His palm is not the only place Ed has left his mark.

But now he actually has to say something and not just stand here gaping like an idiot.

"Why, Ed...it's a pleasure..." Which is not the cleverest thing to say but all his wit has fled right out the window and he hesitates. Is he leading? Is Ed? If he makes the first move is that going to upset things? Or will Ed?

"Lead the way..." Which still doesn't answer the ultimate question of who is leading but he's hoping Ed has some idea.

[saltandpepperbeard]

That's clever enough for Ed. He gives Stede a wink and takes him by the hand to lead him out onto the dance floor and then... the words actually sink in. Shit. This isn't just a jig or some free-for-all. There are rules, and leading, and if he's perfectly honest, he had been thinking less with his brain than maybe other parts--and more along the lines of being cool and a bit suave and getting Stede onto the dance floor with him. Dancing itself was supposed to be the easy part.

Dancing is not the easy part.

When they arrive at an empty place on the dance floor, Ed has a split second to decide how to save face and not stand there like a loon waiting for Stede to show him where to put his hands. Embarrassed and without a good idea, he steps inward and mutters quickly in Stede's ear, "Now what?"

Ed feels like such a fool. Please don't laugh.

[touchofcashmere]

Well he can't help but get a little shiver with that little whisper can he? But it does make him smile just a little, a breath of a laugh but a fond one. He wants to put his arms around Ed's neck and pull him in to another kind of dance entirely.

Instead he takes Ed's free hand and fits it around his waist- feeling a sense of deja vu, familiarity- They had done this before, he remembers now, hazily. At that other place. That other dance. He puts his own hand on Ed's shoulder and then leans in himself to murmur at Ed's ear to be heard above the music.

"Remember? It's teamwork. All we really have to do is move." Other dances are a bit more complex than that and even this one can be- although this is not really a song to waltz to, who cares? They make their own rules.