come_sailaway | well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease

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well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease

Who: Ava & OTA
What: Not doing so great! And an attempted memorial
When: Post-Excursion
Where: room 114, the literal walls, buffet, gym shower, cafe, the promenade
Warnings: these are not fun prompts. loss, self loathing and failing struggle with depression are very strong themes.

i. room 114.

The mission was a success. With no actual contribution on Ava's part and a growing list of mistakes she's neatly compiled in her thoughts, waiting to unravel for whenever Skulduggery finally tracks her down. And she dreads it, knows well enough how these things go.

It was her choice, Skulduggery was quite right. Her choice to sideline herself and pretend she wasn't even there because she couldn't handle dealing with a small group. Of people that already didn't like her, and any minor progress she made with Darcy she's sure has been entirely undone, confirming that she was right all along to treat her so poorly. It would have been a struggle on a good day, but after isolating herself for the last few weeks... God, she was wrong to think she'd be ready.

She should have bowed out before it even began, but her wellbeing was never a priority, not with so much on the line. And it had been all she had to look forward to, the only small scrap of hope that she might be able to help out. Prove to Skulduggery and the others she wasn't a complete deadweight. Prove Izzy wrong that no crew would ever want her. Reestablish that maybe there was a purpose to her continued existence and allow her to recover.

And then it all went from bad to worse with the series of curses, with Maximilien the only one caring to go after her as she took off running as madness infected her already weak mind. And he shouldn't have. She compromised them both, and then ordered him around because in her panic she had no idea how else to get him to follow, and she hates herself for it. And he must hate her now too, because he stormed off and she hasn't heard from him since.

The mission was a success with the added bonus of reuniting Friday with her girlfriend, even under such circumstances. She half expects the ship to be torn apart in a storm any moment, and can't will herself to care. She thought Jenny was valid the first time she attacked. She feels so even more now that her freedom has been stripped of her once more. But there had been mention knowing where her brothers were, and so she hopes. Hopes for Jenny's sake that it's true.

The mission was a success, and Ava's at critical failure. Huddled under her bed ever since she got dumped back at her room. Still in her stealth suit, gripping the katana that she had salvaged from Malcolm's room in trembling hands as her last line of comfort. Unaware of how much time has passed, unaware of her need to eat, never quite managing more than a fitful hour of sleep.

And that's where she'll remain until somebody convinces her otherwise.

ii. the walls.

And then she'll sneak off to fun new hiding spots, places she thinks nobody will be able to look for her, if anyone bothers at all. The advantage of being able to phase is finding nice cozy spaces between the walls, between the floor and the ceiling below it. Ava feels rather considerate of this as well, taking her misery somewhere far more private and out of the way while everyone else continues happily on. Her depression cruelly and completely crippling her ability to reach out for the help she so desperately needs and knows she doesn't deserve.

She's doing her very best to wait out her soul finally fading away with the rest of her, because that's what happens to the weak. And Ava knows that's what she is, despite all her attempts to tell people otherwise.

But somebody passing might hear the stifled crying from the walls, or catch a knee poking out from the ceiling. What first seemed like a great idea turns out to be a bit more cramped and uncomfortable than she was counting on. Try as she might, she can't quite get herself to join the rest of the ship ghosts. It feels very unfair.

At some point, she hears somebody walking far too loudly on the floor she's hiding within, and she reaches out to grab an ankle, phase claws and all.

iii. buffet.

Eventually she does get hungry enough that she can't ignore it anymore, a dizzy sort of sway as she stares blankly at the buffet. Despite the familiar variety, absolutely nothing looks good. She picks at a few packets of crackers and sits right there on the floor, removing her face mask that she's worn for far too long now leaving the skin under it in rough condition. She takes a couple disinterested bites, and then crumbles the rest in her fist. The crumbs get all over her already dirtied suit. With her mask off, she can tell just how bad she smells. That manages to ruin the rest of her desire to eat.

iv. gym.

She hits up the gym showers. She can't get her fingers through her hair, matted from being stuck under her hood for so long. She can't work up enough energy to feel upset about it, instead sits on the floor and watches the water drain.

v. sand dollars.

Grabbing her notebook from its hiding place in her room, Ava takes it with her to the coffee shop, finally dressed in something other than her stealth suit. A plain t-shirt and a pair of camp shorts that fit far looser than months ago. With a pair of scissors, she begins cutting the pages into smaller and smaller pieces, destroying all the notes she'd taken on the Captain and the mystery of the ship and all the things she's decided aren't important. She stops once she gets to the pages of the names of the vanished passengers, her throat constricting.

She never decided what to do about it, but it was a responsibility she took on. Ava sips uneasily at her mint tea, ignoring the small bits of paper that have fallen into it. They're scattered all over the table around her, some having drifted to the floor.

vi. the promenade.

Only a handful of people helped her with her project of collecting names earlier that month, and Ava does her best to fill in as many as she can with her limited interactions. Sarge and Wanda and Natasha and Peter... all from her own world. Eleanor, who helped her with the laundry, and her brother Luke. Kore, she'd been told about. Claudia, her late night company when so few others were up and about. Reigen who hosted that first information sharing meeting who called her out for snooping, who helped her toss the casino coins overboard. Dean, who all she knows about was that he was hot, and something about Diana's opinion on his hair. Flynn, Fio's roommate who had talked down Jenny, only to be replaced by somebody who looked so similar. That she kicked out of the camp cabin, and never got to apologize to. Conner, her first roommate that she had immediately chased off and never had a chance to apologize to. Lucy, who she killed by phasing into a tree during the Battle Royale. And never had a chance to apologize to. Conan (that she doesn't realize has returned.) Ginko, who had been so calming and kind. Lucas, who she was annoyed about when she found out Malcolm had another roommate.

And Malcolm. The only person she's ever allowed so close, that made her feel like she mattered and could be better. Who dedicated his life to getting justice for the dead. She feels guilty she can't think of more, knows there's so many others she's missing.

Lucius had left her art supplies awhile back. So she writes out each of their names in red paint along the floor of the promenade, leaves flowers she's made out of paper under each. She's sure it'll be cleaned up soon enough, but maybe if she keeps watch... There's more paint, for anyone that wants to contribute. As Ava continues quietly folding flowers at one of the tables.

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Red eyes stare back, glowing through the darkness of the space between the floors. She's slow to formulate anything resembling a response, and it comes in the form of her reaching out to press her hand over Klaus's mouth and a crackled sort of hiss as she tries to hush him.

"You talk so much."

The red eyes are a touch. He's just out here trying to remember when Ava got so weird. He's pretty sure it's Ava unless someone else is able to do the phasing thing? Can he see ghosts again? Is this something that's happening?

You're the one that dragged me into the floor he tries to say with the hand muffling his voice.

He squirms just a little to try to push the hand away and try for, "Couldn't we drink alcohol or hot chocolate instead? This seems a bit excessive."

Despite Ava's best attempts at smothering out the inconvenience of her stupidly human wants and needs, despite her resignation of allowing the last of her soul's energy to bleed itself dry and fulfill its only purpose upon this ship, despite how hilariously inconsequential 8 fluid ounces of warm chocolate in a mug is up against the crushing weight of her defeat...

It sounds good. Her mouth feels dry. And disgusting. Her body aches, with its usual burn of her destroyed nerves, and the cramp from shoving herself into spaces she doesn't quite fit into.

Sure, she decides finally. With no verbal confirmation. Instead she activates her claws, a slow lazy slice into the surface below her body, the ceiling giving way to a crackling of blue gashes through matter.

She peeks to make sure she's not about to fall upon somebody, and then drops, a rather graceful motion as she lands so quietly on her toes. Then stares up, waiting for Klaus to follow.

Whatever Klaus was expecting next was not any of what happened. He's just gonna stare for a minute before trying to drop down at all gracefully. It's not going to work for him. It's more of an ungraceful fall onto the floor followed by the sounds of pain. This is not what he was trained for. At least it hurts less than the alleyway in the 60s.

He drags himself up off the floor and looks at the suit. He's never seen it before, but that's just one of those weird things. At least he's out of the ceiling.

"All right." He's just gonna reach over and drag her towards the hot chocolate. There's part of him that's definitely considering grabbing some alcohol before or after this. Alcoholic hot chocolate to get them all through their pain, but the hot chocolate is the important thing right now.

She already thinks of Klaus as a bit of a disaster. So when he hits the floor with far less grace than her own landing, she can't help but giggle. It's a strange sound through the modulation of her mask, her shoulders barely shaking with amusement.

Her suit has certainly seen better days, dirtied and scuffed up from her unfortunate temple expedition, green stains of foliage against dingy white.

Ava keeps herself at a light blur, not up to being fully present now that she's in public view. She flickers and hides behind him whenever anyone else passes too near. But she does follow him and the promise of hot chocolate, even if her feet drag unenthusiastically.

Klaus is absolutely certain once the weird giggling noises happen that it’s actually Ava and not some random person who has powers like Ava. Or at least, he’s more certain now. He’s going to have to ask her about the puffer fish plush eventually. That’s his absolutely certain way to know.

So she’s definitely being weird, but as long as she’s trailing along, he’s gonna talk to her. “Is there a reason for the suit or do you just do this for dramatic effect?” He glances behind him, seeing blurring he’s mostly used to with drinking and he’s not quite drunk enough to see blurry yet.

But there’s nothing in their head to talk about except… “Have you heard the story about the frog and the scorpion?” It is a dumb story and Allison would’ve hit him if she heard him just now, but maybe it’ll bring Ava out of whatever funk she’s in. He can tell her the story as they get their hot chocolate.

There's a few times her steps slow down and she stares off into empty corners, before she shuffles along again to keep up. Klaus might spend all his time getting drunk enough not to see ghosts, but she's struggling to seek them out. Despite Friday's warning that there's nothing recognizable left.

She doesn't immediately answer his question, because she thinks of dramatic as big movements. Loud. Attention seeking. And that's the opposite of what she's trying to accomplish. But maybe it's all rather pathetic. She's self aware enough to know that.

"Hiding," she tells him. And then shakes her head. It does sound familiar, vaguely like some sort of parable, but not enough to claim she knows it.

Klaus feels like the whole situation is dramatic in its own way, which means something probably happened. He just doesn't know what. He doesn't know her enough to really know what her life is. But she's hiding?

"From what?" He asks simply.

"Well, the scorpion wants to get across the river, so he asks the frog to carry him across." He pauses to see if she's still behind him. "But the frog's like, 'what's in it for me'?" Frogs, is he right? "And the scorpion's like...'alright, how about five bucks'. And the frog's like...'make it twenty'. And the scorpion's like, 'ten'." Yes, he's still periodically checking if she's there while they're walking. "And the frog's like 'fiiiine...15. And the scorpion's like, 'fine fifteen'."

He gestures vaguely as he keeps walking, finally getting to the place to get hot chocolate. "And halfway across the river, the frog feels this terrible pain in his back. The scorpion stung him..." He glances over for Ava again. "And the frog's like 'what the hell, we're both gonna drown now'." He sighs dramatically. "And they both did."

Okay, she thinks maybe she heard this one before after all. Except. Well, his retelling of it makes about as much sense at most of his stories.

Ava's quiet until the end, standing outside the cafe and luckily it doesn't seem too busy or else she'd have to figure out some excuse to bail.

"Am I the scorpion or the frog?" Because she thinks he's trying to make a point.

"The point is a distraction from your...whatever you're doing," Klaus says, looking over at Ava. "Also frogs are bitches and we don't negotiate with terrorists." There's a small smile and he wishes that he could just bump her shoulder and make her relax. Instead, they will just order two hot chocolates from the weird ghosts and wait for them to miraculously appear.

"You wanna sit here or take our cups to go?"

He may not be able to see her eyes roll, but it's there in spirit. She's probably the scorpion then. Destructive to even its own demise. Or is she the frog, so stupid to trust no matter how obviously foolish. Either way, she feels like she's drowning.

"I'm doing nothing," she tells him a bit stubbornly, because it seems she can't even do that much right. When everything seems to backfire on her, nothing feels like a valid strategy.

"Go where?" she asks, uncertain. She takes the mug with both hands once its served, can't even feel the warmth of it through her gloves. Which is half the comfort of hot chocolate. And if she wants to drink it... well she can phase the cup through her mask to do so. But it's only likely to result in her spilling it down her face.

"Yeah. Sure you are." He looks over at her. "Nothing but just hanging out in floors for no reason." He shrugs. "Listen, I'm not sure what's going on and you don't have to tell me about it, but...you know. I've heard weirder." And she caused a minor overthinking spell in him early on.

"I dunno. Somewhere with no one? We can throw our cups in the sea when we're done. Fuck this particular sea or whatever. I'll tell you embarrassing stories about Diego. It'll be great."

"Hiding," she reiterates, because she totally has a reason! Don't invalidate her misery techniques!

But yes, somewhere with less people sounds good. She nods, stands just a bit closer to Klaus for him to make the decision where that ought to be.

She doesn't even know Diego, but maybe it'll make her feel a bit better to hear about somebody else having a harmlessly bad time. "Okay."

Klaus just sort of wanders, letting himself walk until there's less people and then there's just them. He settles down on the part of the ship that's...at the front? What's that called again?

"When we were kids, our mom announced to the whole table at dinner that Diego had had his first wet dream. The part that's even funnier, but probably objectively worse is that my brother Viktor put that in his book about us and how we grew up. Kind of wish it was here so you could read it. It was hilarious. I made Viktor bring me a copy to the jail so I could read it.

The forecastle?

Ava follows along like a lost puppy. Hesitates when they finally end up nowhere particular, then settles down beside Klaus. Sets her drink down on the deck and finally removes her mask, setting it into her lap. Her face is in rough condition, dried streaks of tears down her cheeks, hairline gleaming with sweat as little curls stick to her forehead. Her skin with an oily shimmer that comes from not having washed it in several days. Dark circles prominent and cheeks gaunt. And lips chapped with dried blood where they've cracked.

She lowers it, doesn't really want to be looked at, picking up her cup again to take a slow sip of hot chocolate. She expects it to taste like ash, but it's actually quite sweeter than she remembers.

"Wet dream?" she asks, with as much knowledge about these things as an overly sheltered homeschooler. "Peed himself?"

Klaus looks her over, actually relieved that he wasn't insane and that it was Ava this whole time. Good. He's not that terrible at knowing someone. She definitely needs a shower and probably some actual food. Klaus makes note to find a way to drag her into it. He has really only one bargaining chip and he's not afraid to use it.

There's a soft laugh at the question. "It's like...no. Not peeing. He just ejaculated in his sleep. It happens to everyone. Well, boys anyway. Mom just never announced mine to the dinner table. Thank god." He was a little shit as a teenager, though, so he'd probably have thought it was the funniest thing to watch his sibling's face. "It doesn't happen now really. Just a weird puberty thing."

Ava... outright chokes on her next sip of hot chocolate, coughs and sputters and sloshes the cup all down her front.

"Oh... oh my god..." because no she does not know the intricacies of male puberty. Making it through her own had been awkward enough for everyone involved, and nobody particularly believed she'd engage in a sexual relationship. Not when they kept her locked away, not when her body was falling apart.

And so Sharky had been the first person she'd discussed the subject with in any real detail beyond the biological basics, because he was so shamelessly open it made the whole thing less intimidating.

But that? That was far too open. "Oh my god," she repeats, staring down at her chocolate-soaked suit in confused despair.

"No wonder your family doesn't talk to each other..."

Klaus very nearly laughs, but he keeps himself from laughing, biting down on his lower lip.

"Ehhhh. It's fiiiine. He's fine. I'm sure it doesn't haunt him at night when he thinks back on it." He does laugh now. "It got me through a hard time in jail. So I mean...it's probably fine, right?" And they sort of talk now? A little?

"Anyway, I'm sure it's gonna be fine. We can't be away from each other forever. I'm sure we'll find Sloane and everyone and be together as a family again."

She gives up on the drink, halfheartedly trying to clean herself off but with nothing to do so.

Why Klaus was thinking about his brother ejaculating being announced at the family dinner table at all, much less in prison, is enough to convince Ava that no, actually, she's no longer jealous of not having a family. Because all of that sounds awful.

"You can't go back home, Klaus. You realize that, right?"

It's the book, but also because he's kind of a weird person. He frowns as she mentions not being able to go back home, though. That's not really something he doesn't want to do? Like sure a vacation is nice, but then he needs to get back to his siblings. Right? There's probably a lot of stuff to get back to. Where's Allison for one.

"Are you sure? Cause I feel like that's gotta happen."

"You can't, because you're still there," she tells him. "You're... just a copy. That's all any of us are."

Klaus considers the information. "I mean, I guess that's fair." That means he's still home. A version of him anyway. Not this version. "Guess that tracks, to be honest. That's what we've been doing anyway. Versions of ourselves stacked into one. I guess I'm just the only version I won't remember back home." This is a lot to think about.

"I definitely should have made this boozy hot chocolate if we're going to be so serious, though."

Ava's had more difficulty convincing others, but from what he's said about time travel and paradoxes, she figures Klaus is used enough to the concept to take it at face value. She's glad she doesn't have to argue the point.

"It's not that I'm trying to... ruin your hope," Ava follows up, isn't trying to bring people down with her. But it hurts to hear him talk about things like finding his siblings, knowing he'll never make it back to the life he was stolen from.

She stares at her cup again. "Needed marshmallows," she corrects.

Klaus shrugs. "I'm used to existing in the shit pile. What's one more shit pile?" But he's feeling the drag of it more and he feels a clawing need to drink it away, to get high and deal with absolutely nothing that he's feeling in that moment. It's easier. And Klaus is nothing if not the type to seek out an easy street type of situation.

"Does this ship have something against marshmallows? Does the Captain? Is he like...in a fight with a marshmallow?" Nothing would surprise him to be honest.

What she has been trying to convince people of is that this is the better option, when all she hears about is how doomed all the worlds they've come from are. That sure, they're up against quite a challenge with their very souls on the line, but there's opportunity in it if they just look at their circumstances from another angle. She's never been a traditional sort of optimist, but for so long that one scrap of hope that they'd figure this out was something she could believe in. Her promise to Fio hinges upon it.

She doesn't even have that anymore. Not for herself, at least. And so she's not so sure how to comfort Klaus about the unfortunate truth, just rests her head against his shoulder with a defeated sigh.

"Tell me another story," she requests.

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