Ava Starr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
decohere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-09-21 04:07 am
decohere) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-21 04:07 am
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.
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.
v
When Fio arrives, accompanied by the usual floating Judith, she spots Ava at a table and initially, doesn't pay any mind to the bits of paper scattered all around. Smiling brightly, she quickly moves to join her, hauling over a tote bag in her arm full of art materials, some picture books from the library, and a couple of sea shells from the beach. She had been hoping to see Ava, to show off some of her finds...
It's not until she's close that she realizes there's something wrong.
"Ava...?"
...She had known Ava was feeling down. And now, she seems even worse. Her smile falters, as she sets her belongings down on the opposite seat.
As she looks over, she notices the bits of paper fallen into the tea. She reaches over, her little hands closing around the cup, "I'll... I'll go get you another one!"
no subject
Fio's presence is a much needed reminder of all those reasons she needs to keep going. Her promise. By the time Fio's returned with the new cup, she's sitting up a bit straighter, the confetti of paper bits pushed into a neat pile off to the side.
"Thank you," she responds, grateful for the fresh cup of tea. Supporting her weight tiredly against her elbows, Ava leans forward. "What do you have there?"
no subject
She reaches into her bag, shuffling through the usual contents of craft materials and children's books. Once her hand finds what she's digging for, she starts lining various different-looking sea shells on the table top. She made sure the ones selected from the beach weren't broken.
"Duggy and I gathered some sea shells together. Aren't they pretty? I thought maybe you'd like one."
no subject
"Oh, those are very lovely," she agrees, reaching forward to inspect the shells carefully. "I'm sorry I missed out, the beach looked so nice. But I'm glad you two had a fun time." She regrets not taking a chance to enjoy herself, take a break. Maybe she wouldn't have been quite so stressed.
She picks one up, smiling at the subtle colors. "I'd love one, but it's so hard to choose."
no subject
Fio wants to remain optimistic, believing that they'll both have more chances to experience another reality as nice as the beach. Together.
A thought crosses her mind as she sets out the shells while on the opposite side of the table. Once she's finished laying out her display, she moves to sit on the same side as Ava, huddling up close until their sides touch. Much like when Ava sat with her at the ice cream parlor on that one late night...
Her hand reaches for a shell, one with an iridescent sheen on the inside, "What about this one? It's like its got a bunch of colors. Kind of like a rainbow."
no subject
She has a particular fondness for iridescence, loves to watch the way the colors shift to reveal themselves at one angle and go invisible at the other. She smiles, happy that's the one Fio has picked out. "Oh, I think that one is my favorite," she agrees, setting the other shell down. "Which one is yours?"
no subject
As for her own favorite, she has to pause and think. She wants to say all of them, because they're all equally pretty. But if she's to choose one... she gazes thoughtfully, before eventually reaching for a shell with pink, white, and yellow stripes on its surface. It's a nice splash of colors and she was searching for the 'sunniest' looking one.
"I really like a lot of 'em. But maybe... this one? The colors on this one look kind of like the sunrise."
no subject
"Did Skulduggery show you how to hold them up to your ear?" Ava asks. "So you can hear the ocean."
no subject
And keep it as a memory of Fio's sunny personality. She places the glossy sunrise-colored shell back down on the table, pushing it closer to Ava. More gifts for her!
"He didn't. Maybe 'cause Duggy doesn't have ears?" Yet somehow he can still hear. She doesn't question how a magical skeleton works.
Hearing the ocean is something she's heard about before, but she had been far too busy seeking out the perfect shell and staring at critters to think about doing it at the time. It's not her first time collecting sea shells. The last time she was on the beach was with her adoptive parents, which feels so long ago now.
This time, she reaches for a conch. "It's... this one's best for listening to the ocean, right?"
no subject
"Duggy would look rather silly with ears," she agrees. "But yes, the conch shells. You know that already, huh?"
no subject
"Mm. I used to go to the beach when my daddy wasn't busy..." Her words trail off softly. She doesn't want to get into too much about her adoptive family again. Though her adoptive father eventually lost love for Fio too, he was also... softer, recalling a shelf in their old home where he kept pressed flowers and seashells collected by her.
As she picks up the conch, instead of pressing it to her own ear, she wiggles out from underneath Ava. Getting up on her knees in her seat, she presses the conch against Ava's ear.
"For you, since you didn't get to go to the beach!"
no subject
She knows Fio's family is a difficult topic for her, but she encourages her with a soft smile. Even among all the sadder memories, it's hard not to cling to the happier ones. "My father was busy a lot. But I liked to visit him where he worked," Ava says, carefully tucking the shells into her pocket.
Ava listens very carefully into the shell with her eyes closed as she tries to recall the island, sans the curses and Skulduggery's screaming and Max hitting the ground and Jenny's splatter of blood and poor wet Friday and... instead gives a delighted little giggle. "Yes, I can hear it. You brought it back to me."