come_sailaway | on this the night all hallows' eve

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on this the night all hallows' eve

who: the living and the damned
when: October 31st, 8PM to 11:59 PM
where: around the main pool on deck 6
what: HALLOWEEN PARTY, 1/2
warnings: TBA

[as you exit the elevator and walk towards the pool deck on Halloween night, you follow a sort of labyrinth of panels and decorations. about halfway through the maze, a scythe swings into your path, and a tall animatronic crackles to life:]

It is harvest time. I can smell it in the air. And I sense your soul is ripe for harvesting as well. When your time comes, my scythe will cleave your soul right off the vine like a ripened pumpkin. Time for carving!

[welcome to Halloween aboard the Serena Eterna.

the Infinite Spirit Halloween has been put to good use by a crack team of Mizuki and Ebalon, and half of it seems to now be located around the deck on the main pool. the pool has been dyed a swamp-like green; fake plastic vines and (hopefully) fake plastic limbs float in the waters. there are fog machines studded throughout that are putting out a frankly dangerous amount of fog, and it can be pretty difficult to tell if your next step is onto the floor or directly into the pool.

there is food available on a long table on the side, but it’s entirely the usual fare found in the buffet, though there are also two punch bowls: one is a delicious fruit punch, and the other is about 99% vodka and then a single orange. the bar is also open, with extra liquor bottles scavenged from the other bars on the ship. Halloween music plays from unseen speakers.

Friday is here, and dressed in costume, but never seems to stop fussing and rushing around long enough to actually have a conversation with. but, hey! Jenny is here! hooray!

have fun. you have ‘til midnight.]

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[Max saunters up, cape of his costume trailing behind him dramatically. Granted he's not wearing the hat or the mask so he just looks like an Omnic in a fancy suit, but that's what was provided for him and it's not atrocious so he'll wear it. ]

I vote you smash his skull open with a pumpkin scoop this time. Or perhaps decapitate him with the novelty chains and barbed wire.

( cue the slowest, most gradual and perpetually unamused drag of clarke's gaze from the general swell of the party to max's light bedecked face. if :| the emoticon could have bags under its eyes and squiggly angry eyebrows, that'd perfectly encapsulate the look she levels at him.

your company has contributed to her no good very bad month vibe already, max. congrats. )

Are you hoping I'd somehow disprove the whole "he can't die on the ship" point, or just bored and hoping to watch me make myself look stupid again?

You hardly looked stupid. There's probably people who are jealous you've been able to even lay a hand on him, much less actually damage him.

In any case, he won't allow you to kill him so that's not a concern.

( this feels like grossly undue flattery, especially six months past the act and with the full, well rounded acknowledgement she only did any damage because he'd let her. but.

who doesn't loosen a little under flattery? we're not gonna talk about how much clarke bristles over the allow. )

In that case, I'll consider the barbed wire. But I'm not exactly expecting he's going to show up this time.

[ A sigh because unfortunately he agrees.]

I'm not either, he's been even more aloof than normal. I'd hoped maybe this party would be an excuse for him to kill us all and cheer himself up and then he can get back to normal and the boat will have less entrails on the floor and charred walls. But that doesn't seem to be the case.

Still... Friday is here, which means he knows it's happening.

( her arms had been crossed tightly over her ribs, but clarke now unlocks her elbows so she can hold both hands in front of her, palm up. )

Knowing... Caring...

( seesaw, seesaw, seesaw... )

At least the entrails and burnt walls make this ship look like what it really is. ( a shit pit slaughter house. hell on pocket-reality earth. ...familiar, a little like home. )

He cares somewhat. He must, or else the past month there would have been no food, no water, the heat turned off, and the various facilities like the showers would have stopped working. Something is compelling him to do the bare minimum to keep the humans on board from dying.

[Dammit Skulduggery, the skeleton is such a bad influence on him with his talk about the Captain and having a tiny shred of, not humanity, but something similar.]

Maybe so if the blood wasn't from people killing each other for no reason. Currently it seems more like a monument to stupidity.

( she sees his point, just draws a very different — far more disparaging — conclusion from it. nothing even similar to humanity considered here, from the captain's own mouth he'd just called them fuel. )

Yeah, his own need for power and keeping the ship running's compelling him. All of that may be for us, but it's not about us. Why waste a perfectly good batch of suffering souls and have to start all over again?

And since when have people ever needed a reason to kill each other.

He doesn't need the ship, he needs whatever is behind the door on the bridge we've not seen behind. [Or that none of them save one has seen anyway.] The rest of this is, well, I'm not sure what it's for but he doesn't interact with it. I never see him strolling the decks or partaking of the food.

But yes, it's probably not truly magnanimous.

[He doesn't understand how the Captain thinks, he just knows what he'd do in the same situation, and if he was going to completely disassociate out of existence he wouldn't care if he had to remake his little torture cruise with new people. That would be the last thing on his mind. Yet something is making the Captain keep the lights on for them. ]

A group of people who all know each other, who live with each other and have for months? Unless everyone is taking the opportunity to kill their arch nemesis, it seems strange timing.

( some of us make sure our people are properly safe and secure before disappearing into the wilderness for a Peak Depressive Moment, because it's important to have something to come back to if/when the mood strikes.

clarke doesn't... outright ignore any of what max is saying here. she initially revolts against most of his counter argument on principal alone, but doesn't have a well and properly formed rebuke. such is talking to people with differing opinions and not being willing to budge, but well and ready to chew over what they've got to contribute.

instead, she looks directly across the party to where jinx is just chilling in her bloody alice in wonderland costume and says: ) Let's not discount that as an option.

[He follows her line of sight, not entirely sure who's she's looking at in the crush of people, but no one he gives an ounce of empathy towards is over there so they're all fair game as far as he's concerned.]

It would be good timing, three days without them. Three entire days. Do you know how quiet it was after Crichton was killed?

[It was glorious, coupled with the absence of Jeff, and Sharky sticking to the bars, the only one he currently had to field off was Klaus. Things were so much quieter.

However...]

I'm surprised Jeff was allowed to get away with that. I feel like if I were to randomly murder him for being annoying something more drastic would have happened than being in the brig for a week or so.

( she knows viscerally how quiet it was after natsuno yuuki died. three days. three days at the start of the month, when no one knew the rules of reanimation had changed, and she'd just thought him lost for good... lost for good, now an unkind sentiment she wishes towards the blue haired girl who was the direct reason he'd been put in that position in the first place too.

a beat of silence, then: )

"Chase". His name is Chase. ( that's what the emergency notes in the library had insisted anyway, and clarke doesn't know the players involved enough to think them outright lying about any of that. ) One of the revenants that broke through and possessed people. What do you think we should be doing with him?

Well assuming you want Jeff back I'd assume killing him. I talked to Chase, Jeff isn't in there struggling to get free, waiting for a rescue. He's not in there at all, and if you want him back in his actual body then getting Chase out of there is the first step, no?

[He hadn't gone to the meeting but he had talked to Chase, and to whatever was in Maeve that hadn't deigned to introduce itself.]

Maeve tried to make us think that and it was a, hm, fairly decent attempt in all honestly. But there's just something off, they may have the memories, they don't have the mannerisms.

[Something he probably notices more than most, being someone without facial expressions, he tends to focus on peoples hand movements more than what their face is doing. Humans are good at faking expressions with their face when they're trying, less so at acting casual with the rest of their bodies. Their mouth and eyes can smile, but the twinging of their fingers nervously has given away more than they'll ever know. Something Max has exploited time and time again back home.]

( she doesn't know, nor particularly care about, maeve and jeff. met the latter once when he'd been assigned to the same cabin she was supposed to champion at camp, but wouldn't be able to pick apart the specifics between him and a vengeful spirit pretending to be him.

but she can't just outright say that. and honestly, doesn't like the part of her brain that's instantly discounting other people — possessed or otherwise — it's just been a distinctly shitty month. luckily, max brings up an all around excellent point that stokes at smoldering embers of realization in the back of clarke's mind, and she latches onto that with a mute sort of enthusiasm. )

Yeah... Or temperament. I ran into Tear about a week ago, fresh wounds and all, and she didn't even offer to heal me. ( which says a lot, since the other girl had not so long ago offered to heal her from a hangover. )

Unfortunately, we humans also tend to give a lot of leeway to our friends.

Ah, I've only met her the once so it would be hard for me to tell if she's currently affected. They can fake being something, or someone, they're not for quite a long time, but eventually they either have to revert in order to retain who they are, or they'll actually start to believe themselves. And once the lie becomes the truth, they've lost.

[His eyes flick over the crowd, as if he can tell who's not themselves at a single glance.]

But the fact that you are friends will eventually be their undoing, everything breaks if stretched far enough, including patience with someone not acting themselves. I do wonder... Is anyone here aloof enough, isolated enough, that no one will notice? Or brand new perhaps. Were I to plan such a thing, those would be the best people to make an attempt on.

[He says that and then immediately looks away. Eyes narrowing, voice softer than it was.]

Not that I would. This whole situation is abhorrent.

( it lacks the venom of a real accusation — because it... isn't one — but clarke does finally fully turn her head and level max with a low stare. )

You're pretty aloof. And I find you exceptionally hard to read, Maximilien.

[An eyeroll, though he does realize that everything he's saying is kinda suspicious isn't it...]

Oh please, that's simply because I don't have facial expressions. You'd know immediately if I wasn't myself, though I'd rip out my own central processor before I let that happen.

[He is absolutely certain that no one could impersonate him. In fact he's positive that he's better at being himself than the original him back home. This is the pinnacle of Maximilien right here. Right now.]

( ....yeah all of that tracks. she doesn't need to have a long and storied history with max to suddenly feel really confident he's at least not among the number of possessed that just... seem to be walking around freely. )

Guess if I ever have any doubt, I could just ask you to shuffle a deck of cards.

( he's right on the money about the lack of facial expressions throwing her off too; that's a very human need, to match what comes out of one's mouth with what sort of emotion hangs around the corner of it. and a very clarke griffin flaw to feel perturbed when she can't make those pieces match. )

Flaw in your plan, though, I don't think you'd have enough time to rip our your processors. I doubt the ghosts are giving warning before bodyjacking any of us.

[He laughs at that, imagining in the heat of a battle between people who might be possessed or not, being asked to shuffle a deck of cards would be so utterly ludicrous. He kind of hopes it happens.]

Unlike you I have firewalls and sensors and protections, because while people being possessed is not likely to happen in most worlds, especially mine. A mechanical being getting taken over by something else? Absolutely happens. Daily. All the time. So I'm far more prepared to prevent such things.

[Or to off himself if there's no other alternative. The only person who gets to use his body is him, it was expensive and it's his.]

( clarke doesn't say "i have a friend who could hack past your firewalls with her eyes closed" because that feels like fighting words. and raven reyes isn't even here to back her up in a deathmatch.

she does however, take that laugh and commit it to memory. it feels like agreement, and if they ever go through this again, she's going to make max play her in cards a second time, and do all the shuffling. )

Hm. Would that we were all so prepared. Maybe this wouldn't have ever happened if we'd all taken precaution and... I don't know, tattooed protection wards on ourselves. ( they live on a literal ghost ship and somehow no one thought of this... )

Is that an actual thing that could help?

[A funny thing about furiously resisting learning anything about magic, is that he then has no idea how it works or how it could be utilized. Which he probably should care about while on a boat made of magic with magic users and a magic captain who is probably manipulating them all. With magic.]

That seems like something someone would have done by now if it was feasible. Or... something that they have only done for themselves.

[He thinks back to the runes and symbols that Ebalon had drawn in the air right before the floor had ignited under Max in a pulsewave of pain. Something like that, but in reverse.]

People have been drawing blood wards around their cabins, and handing out protection talismans.

( it literally baffles and scrambles every part of her brain that he's somehow this far out of the loop but. whatever. the bare necessity of skin will be flashed as clarke reaches into her shirt and pulls a the slip of paper that (FOR NOW, god) she's still entirely confident offers protection.

she shows it to him, ~~god~~ blood and all. then promptly tucks it back into her blouse. )

I'm not saying it's enough, but it's something.

Is that what all the blood in the hallway is supposed to be? It smells atrocious.

[Max is the master of ignoring things that don't apply to him and he can't exploit for personal gain somehow. He eyes the paper with the symbols on it, wanting to scoff about that, ~~and predating Kiriko as a character in-game who uses those~~, but given some of the truly ridiculous things he's seen here there's a real likelyhood it'll work.]

I see. Well, I hope it serves its purpose.

[He's spotted someone in the crowd, and turns back to Clarke to nod a farewell.]

Do let me know if the Captain shows up hm?

[Max is about to be indisposed.]

( well, like. probably half the blood. does it say a lot about her that she no longer fully recognizes the stench of rotting blood as weird, and looked upon the drying flecks as either comfortable evidence of everything going to shit or practical measures? probably.

this is going to be possibly the last decent, not emotionally fraught or threatening or weirdly disjointed or wholly unpleasant interactions clarke has this evening, and it's a little weird that it's with max, of all people. they're not close, but that's arguably what makes this transactional chat so easy. he's disengaging, and in return to his nod, she raises her chin. )

Sure.

( raises a hand too, when he moves to depart. thinks ruthlessly to herself — if i live long enough to raise the alarm — but he's gone, there's no point in being blatantly pessimistic about this evening to thin air. clarke does her best to melt back into the sidelines of the party and set back to watching and waiting. )

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on this the night all hallows' eve

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