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

[hellonspectacles]

The corner of Pal's mouth curves up in a smile. Now this is exactly the kind of useful brainstorming that can happen when you have a friend and an ally to talk things through with. "Yes. Well, theoretically. Assuming that the Captain's wards are built on similar principles to mine, which we can't necessarily take for granted.

"But blood is always powerful. That seems to be true in enough universes that a sample of the Captain's blood will surely do us some good." He pauses with a faint frown. "I suppose the trouble is that he doesn't always bleed when you would expect him to, right? Knocking a hole in the side of his head didn't render any blood."

[skaikru]

"Darcy made him bleed." Clarke hadn't watched the incident all that closely, doesn't know exactly what transpired between the two of them past what could be gleaned from across the room, but they'd talked about it since and if he's inclined to play favorites "— we could ask if she'd be willing to try to do it again, and maybe this time get a sample."

And after a slight pause, because this is a totally normal thing to forget you've had stashed away in your bureau since your first month on board this hellscape of a ship: "I have some of Friday's blood on a napkin, if that'd do any good."