come_sailaway | If I am telling the truth, watching my friends break their hearts into two

Entry tags:

If I am telling the truth, watching my friends break their hearts into two

Who: Ava & whoever
What: learning to fly~ and happy thoughts
When: throughout November
Warnings: possible misunderstanding of learning to fly as suicidal attempt, but fear not. no avas were harmed in the making of this post.

On her birthday, Ava received a suspiciously light box from the sundries that she shoved under her bed and waited several days to unwrap. Partially overwhelmed from all her other gifts, mostly wary. For all that it had made her nervous anticipating what could be inside, all she found was a single white feather. Ava stared at it suspiciously, shook the box upside down until it fluttered out upon her sheets, expecting something else to happen. But that was it. She tucked the feather into her hair, and hadn't thought much more of it since.

She hasn't made any connection between that, and her sudden ability to float at unexpected moments. Beginning with stealing a quick smooch from 6. Nothing that she's been able to sustain for more than a few seconds, but it's a start just as she'd given up ever thinking it was possible.

After spending the last several days straining herself so very intently, she can't figure out how to do it again. It must have been a fluke? Somebody playing a trick on her because they had caught on to what she was trying to learn with the paperclip. A weird side effect, like months ago with the water? Except nobody else seems to be experiencing it that she's noticed.

But she's determined, because she can't tell Skulduggery that it's finally worked if she can't even prove it.

i. If I could choose anything, I would be good and bad one day
ota- dining room

For awhile she tries jumping off tables with no success. In the dining room, because that's usually less popular than the buffet. Although the sorts that prefer the formal dining are probably the sorts more likely to judge what she's doing, as she steps over place settings and nearly topples right off the side when her foot slips on a plate.

ii. I would fall into love and stay, would fall into love
ota- deck rails

Next she's climbing up on the rails at the edge of the pool deck, something higher. Like a baby bird being pushed from the nest, maybe that's what she needs. A good fear of splatting to get her going. Except... she stares down at the water over the side of the ship and feels far too much self doubt and can't quite bring herself to jump. It seems cold and wet and she doesn't know how to swim all that well.

"Don't worry," she assures whoever might look concerned as they pass by. "It's not what it looks like."
iii. And it's not fair
ota- sand dollars

"Eueughh!!" Ava cries in exasperation after another day of no progress, before allowing her forehead to clunk against the cafe table, her tacky mug (a bday gift from Friday!) rattling but luckily the tea inside is low enough not to slosh in retaliation. "This doesn't make any sense. I can do it, but I can't."

She has no idea that her defeated mindset is exactly what's preventing her from doing it again.

iv. I keep on writing a sequel to stories I know that are not there
ota- various

Once she finally figures out that it's maybe linked to her mood, Ava tries improving it. She's seeking out things around the ship that she enjoys doing. Pulling out her stolen camp boat and floating out in the middle of the pool, with an iced coffee and a book. Dragging her new giant squishmallow around to inflict it upon others. Piling up her plate at the buffet with an obscene amount of shrimp. Singing Spice Girls songs on the karaoke when she thinks nobody else is watching. Slipping into the hot tub late at night to watch the stars and relax.

Come contribute to her good mood! Or absolutely ruin it. You know, whichever.

v. I don't wanna die but I don't wanna live like this
ota- hallways, promenade

After a week's worth of practice, Ava's manages to reliably get herself hovering a few feet off the ground, without losing her balance or immediately crashing right back down. She's having fun avoiding walking as much as possible, gliding with one foot hooked back behind her other ankle. But she's still not quite at the point where she trusts herself to go much higher or faster. Just doing lazy sorts of twirls and showing off to any of her acquaintances she passes.

She's lucky she's having a rather good month and is able to maintain happy enough thoughts!

vi. I just wanna feel something, I just wanna feel
ota- outside your window

By the end of the month, she's at the point where she's getting a bit more daring with her stunts. Any of her friends, or random strangers, might notice Ava floating around the outside of the ship, peering through and knocking at cabin windows. And waving.

No, she's not spying! But she might accidentally catch some moments that weren't meant to be seen, oops.

vii. wildcard
ota- hit me up on discord for any plotting plans, or just go for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There is a competitor for the shrimp in Windjammer.

Well.

Some of the shrimp, anyway. After several days in a row deprived of her favorite protein, the coconut shrimp, Erin has returned to Windjammer with hope in her heart to a veritable showcase of Shrimp But Sweet and her usual habit of loading up on desserts in one plate with the technically-needed other food groups on another has been replaced by still doing basically the same thing but all of the desserts are shrimp. Coconut shrimp, walnut shrimp, honey-glazed shrimp, breaded & fried shrimp tossed in what she will learn later is actually a spicy wing sauce, and juuuust for fun, some normal-ass shrimp hiding on one side of the plate near a questionable selection of sauces to try with them.

None of those are fated to be good ideas.

When she realizes someone else also wants the shrimp Erin flashes Ava a guilty grin and scoots aside. "I uh. I think I left some survivors there. I've been missin' the coconut shrimp and I maaaaay be going overboard."

She's going overboard.

"Oh," Ava stares at the woman's plate, somewhat impressed by the pile. But not surprised. The shrimp diet is a legitimate lifestyle choice that she supports, when she's not having a 'soup is everything' week. And seems healthier than Pratt sustaining himself on nothing but mashed potatoes.

"No worries," Ava responds to the depleted stock that will likely replenish itself by the time they walk away. "I prefer the plain ones," Ava admits, which it seems the other woman has skipped out on. Wait, nope, there's a few hiding over there upon closer inspection.

"What... sauces... are those?" she asks, wondering if the woman's blindness has set her up for some unpleasant surprises.

"I've gottttt...bit of that Thai peanut sauce that just kills you, some mustard barbecue, pretty sure this is sweet and sour -" it will turn out to be Bronco Berry from Arby's here in a minute, " - bit of horseradish and that last one is vanilla ice cream for when the peanut sauce kills me."

She flashes a sunny smile. "Erin Peters, do call me Erin. Your voice seems vaguely familiar."

Erin's only heard it the once, in the aftermath of the deck collapse.

She can only imagine that was all either figured out by memorization of the buffet layout (which she wouldn't personally trust), by smell, or the woman dipping her fingers right in to taste the various sauces. Which others might find off putting and rude, but Ava thinks would be an acceptable tactic given the circumstances. Unless Erin isn't actually blind? Friday doesn't need eyes to see, so there's no telling. She just gives a curious hum in response. Ice cream...? For shrimp?

Ava's simple in comparison. Filling her plate with plain boiled shrimp, she adds a heavy amount of the cocktail sauce, and a couple wedges of lemon to complete her dish.

"Does it?" she asks, because she isn't particularly loud. But there's no telling what conversations might have been overheard, even when she's usually careful to make sure nobody is lurking nearby. "You don't look familiar at all. I'm Ava."

"You're the famous Ava!" Erin's sunny smile becomes positively beaming. "You keep coming up but somehow we've just missed each other. Congratulations on - shit this is where I'm supposed to shake your hand but I do got plates. Table?"

Erin bobs her head in the general direction of the seating.

She's so startled that she almost loses her plate of shrimp to a flicker, managing to keep her fingers clutching ahold of the edges. Yes, a table would probably be a good idea, though she hadn't expected the invitation to eat together. But Erin seems friendly, almost overly so in a way that she's trying not to find intimidating. Her own social skills are better than what she started with, but dealing with the unknown factors of strangers puts her at a disadvantage.

"... Famous?" she questions, because she's never sure if being talked about behind her back is a good thing. Depends what and who Erin heard it from. "Con...gratulations? For what?" Her head is spinning through possibilities as she makes her way over to set her food down and sit.

Erin heads to the table as well. That flicker was...interesting.

(But let's not push it.)

"I mean, there's options," she teases faintly. "Miss Fio seems to think the world of you, f'rinstance, but! In this case I'm thinking of the news I got from Mister Smith when we caught up recently." In a heroic display of restraint Erin starts with some of the salad from her second plate. "He seemed very happy about it."

The mention of two of her favorite people earns a small smile from Ava, and relief because she doesn't think either of them would say anything too compromising about her.

"Fio is sweet, isn't she?" Ava replies, always glad to know there's plenty of other passengers willing to keep an eye on her. "And yes. Peter and I..." she ducks her head slightly, dipping a shrimp by the tail into the cocktail sauce. "You know him well?"

"Not terribly well, but..." Erin trails off wistfully. "We first met during the uh, Bonnet incident. I went to scope out the shape of it, see if it was gonna stay courteous or end in blood, and we talked, about being made old by our professions. About my home, some. He struck me as a man of great curiosity, compassion, and sorrows. We've been in touch since. You came up during his recent bout of art practice."

Since Stede has vanished, Ava's had very little reason to remain tactful about the man and his crew that she left. But she laughs slightly, in memory of the unflattering portraits that 6 had hung up. "Which incident? Stede putting up his meddling flyers? Or Peter's creative retaliation?"

She can't disagree with the description, but it is interesting to hear how others view him. "He is a man of many talents," she comments fondly. It's nice that he hasn't allowed himself to be so limited to the skills of his career. She's been struggling herself, to be more than what she was trained to be. But it's hard not to fall back into old habits, no matter what else she does to entertain herself.

"What profession? Were you in a similar line of work?"

"Both. I approached Stede first, and then the art class announcement went up..." Erin sighs. "I'd kill for some wood to whittle. Peter likes a spot of carving himself."

How much of Peter's business does Ava know? The urge to assume she's clued in is strong, but the trouble is that such business is intensely private. Erin settles on a compromise.

"The talk turned to my people on the basis that we were obligated to be a secret society for several uh, million years. That situation has only recently changed at home and Peter had a professional curiosity about it."

Nice and neat. Let Ava react to it and see where it goes.

"Could take apart one of the chairs. Had a friend do that before, for his own... crafty pursuits." Lucius had smashed up a stool in order to make some sort of star-based navigation tool at the request of Blackbeard. She had helped out, but never heard anything further of the results. Not that she ever expected it to work, when she already suspected the ship wasn't going much of anywhere.

Ava narrows her eyes slightly in thought, can tell that Erin is talking around the subject, in her own guarded way. But Ava isn't somebody she knows nor trusts. She finishes off a few shrimp, discards the crunchy remains of the tails off to the side. "Million years is a long time," at least for a simple mortal like herself who only just turned 30. On the cosmic scale of things, it really isn't much at all. "What caused such a change?"

"Good question. Don't scream."

Erin has grown fond of this trick; her skin ripples like water, and in the wake of it all inhuman signs go still; her hair stops moving and falls where gravity ought to hold it, her ears round out and cease twitching. The tattoos on her arms freeze in place and hold still.

The music has left Erin's voice: "For the longest time this is how you would have seen me, and the gunpowder would be invisible and unsmellable to you as well. A compulsory illusion, not chosen by us and effective even in death. About a year ago from my perspective it shattered and anyone who knows why isn't talking. Now we're finally free to live as ourselves. The transition period is uh...sure happening, though."

Erin tries the peanut sauce on a piece of shrimp and regrets it immediately; the ice cream soon follows.

Ava does not scream. Even before here, she's seen far weirder things than a woman transforming into something more normal. She's seen Ylva shift forms from an otter, Undine into a magical girl. Scott into a giant, Hope into a tiny flying speck. She's long past the point of expecting to be the oddest being in any given room. Hardly anyone blinks at her abilities here, and in turn she only gives a small raise of her brows at Erin's trick.

"Mn, I can't imagine everyone is so comfortable with such exposure," Ava comments. "That is an advantage of being here though, isn't it. Being yourself. Not having any of those restrictions or laws or cultural clashes from back home hanging over us."

She eats another couple shrimp, curious to Erin's reaction to the sauce.

"If you don't like it... why did you get it?"

"Only knew it by reputation," Erin admits, Visibly Sweating. "And I thought, surely it's not that hot. Surely."

It isn't, Erin's just got the spice tolerance of an English peasant from 1400. She puts some of the coconut shrimp in her mouth to negate the horrible error she's made and only really manages to be both in pain and enjoying a new flavor at the same time.

After swallowing and also dabbing her forehead with a napkin: "You make a really good point though. At first it was like, bothersome, always being asked 'hey what are you' or 'how does your magic work', but like...it's different, than back at home. People here are just trying to get to know me and not like...dredging for information for their smutfics. Which. Yeah."

"Hm," Ava responds, because surely it can't be that hot. And if she knew the woman better, she'd ask to try the peanut sauce for her own curiosity. But she doesn't, and keeps to her familiar cocktail sauce.

"There are a lot of unusual types of magic coexisting here," Ava muses. "Ones that operate by entirely different principles. I asked the Captain about it once..."

She rests her elbows upon the table, realizing she forgot to get anything to drink.

"Ah. Bastard man actually talks to you." The Face that Erin makes; irritated, even a little guilty - or maybe just insecure? Whatever the case, it passes quickly. "He have anything interesting to say about it? I've been making something of a project out of learning about the ways different worlds work. For the joy of it, for curiosity, to see how things might combine...all that."

Ava remains quiet, considers. Pokes more at her shrimp. She's usually careful about the information she divulges, even with those she's close to. Erin isn't somebody she knows, though they have do have acquaintances. Easy enough, within such a small population, but it's not anything that earns her trust.

"I don't know anything about magic," Ava confesses, as an out. "Even though Skulduggery has very patiently attempted to teach me." Bringing up another name, to test how far the research for her project has gone.

And the Captain hasn't spoken with her? Usually this discussion goes the other way, with the other party admitting they haven't even attempted such.

"He didn't talk to much of anyone, all last month," Ava comments. "But otherwise, yeah. We've chatted. Didn't seem like much of a bastard to me."

"I may be pissy for being singled out as persona non grata," Erin admits. "But, eh. I'll get over it."

There's a pause for consideration. The conversation has this cautious undercurrent that Erin wasn't quite expecting, but on reflection it fits. Hadn't she told Cass that a normal relationship with someone wasn't an expectation Erin had? Peter strikes Erin as self-aware; the innkeeper's daughter isn't in his future either.

"Skullduggery did mention some unsuccessful teaching attempts when I went to share information with him. I uh. Seem to have caught some of Ruby's world off of her and figured the author of the binder should know." Erin flashes an impish grin. "It's got me curious what else might be possible, though that line of touching stoves to see if they're hot does have a bit of a weakness on my end. All my expertise is in practical magic. I'm not even sure where to start with the supertech crew, folks like Cesar or Maximilien. Totally different paradigm."

"Singled out?" Ava questions, because with that phrasing sounds more to it than simply being ignored. "Had you done something to offend him?"

But if the Captain has strictly chosen to shut her out, then she'll respect that choice by further avoiding sharing any details about him.

She gives a sort of unhappy shrug at Skulduggery labelling her as... unsuccessful, trying not to be so discouraged. She'll figure it out. "You caught somebody else's magic?" Ava sounds wary. "Is that something you do? Absorb from others?" Is that what she's trying to do with her project? Collect everyone else's magic as her own?

"Start what with them?" The mention of Maximilien has her guard further up. She's rather defensive over her best friend.

"No, no -" Erin sighs and sets her fork down to put her face in her hands with a groan. "One day I'll stop being a clown. I dunno what the Captain's issue is with me, alright?"

Hands come down. Erin takes in a deep breath. "My magic is extrinsic, mostly. This shapeshifting trick doesn't come from me, it's a very old pact I signed on to. Catching this...Aura, thing, off Ruby is new to me. I've got theories, maybe Skullduggery does too, but ultimately like, she didn't give me hers. It's more like I awakened one like someone from her world would have. Completely normal...if I wasn't me."

Deep breath again. "Likewise folks like Maximilien and SecUnit seem impossible from my perspective; they come from worlds where physics seem just. Wildly different as far as my never-finished-high-school ass can tell. So like...if I'm curious about how our worlds combine I've gotta factor them in but how? I'm not a technical boy."

Ava stares across the table, mid-chew with a shrimp tail hanging from her mouth, not expecting such a strong reaction... "Clown? Was it such a humiliating experience?"

Being ignored was her own preference, so it's difficult to relate. Not drawing much attention to herself, avoiding making herself a target. Letting everyone else deal with the consequences of rocking the literal boat. But from her perspective, the Captain is easy to get along with, she enjoys his company more than she'll outright admit. So what did this woman do that even she's unaware of?

"Are you that concerned with his approval?" she asks, because she had a bit of her own doubts whether Skulduggery's claims were true or just his own bias. "Ah. You're somebody that values social hierarchy, I bet."

She squeezes another lemon wedge over her plate, licks the excess juice from her fingers. "Hm. Not seeing what you're failing to understand. It works because it works. That's all."

"...Am I into hierarchy?" The question seems mostly self-directed. Erin shakes her head to get that train of thought it. "No, it's...if I said I'm willing to call this place home, how insane does that sound to you?"

She doesn't seem entirely convinced, but she shakes her head in response. "Home is a sense of belonging and comfort within our environment, and those close relationships we build within it," Ava comments, as somebody who's been deprived of such. That's why she views this place as home, doesn't find the notion insane at all.

And why she's so protective against any possible threats against it. Erin is clearly somebody with Motives, and Ava's the sort that will dig her claws deep in to expose them. And never quite understand why so many of her first meetings don't go well.

"But I don't see why that requires a personal audience with the Captain."

Erin...eats. An excuse for time to think, and certainly the expression on her face says the wheels are turning. Cassandra had questioned her methods, yes, but this is the first time someone actually questioned the plan in the first place.

There's some holes in it.

"Requires might be a strong word," Erin admits at last, after devastating her shrimp (the horseradish sauce was a bad idea too). "But...insofar as this place has a god, it's him. The gods where I'm from are. Bad. Pillagers from beyond the world who torment the forgotten, the lonely, the beat-down and kicked around. I look at my new community and I see a lot of people carrying a heavy weight. Even Miss Fio seemed like she's trying very hard not to think about something awful that never should have happened. The Captain collects us and puts us here and I have some concerns about that. It feels. Painfully familiar. The Black Binder claims he wants divinity. I want to know what kind of god he's looking to be about that. Especially if I want to live here."

"...But I'm not sure, really, what a better god should even be like. I've never met one."

iv. I keep on writing a sequel to stories I know that are not there

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject