• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy Kill Nothing but Time | IC Thread

OOC
Here
Characters
Here
Lore
Here
Other
Here
elytra

elytra

a beetle may or may not be inferior to a man
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
KNbT Header.gif
"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories, kill nothing but time..."
​
Scene: Scene 2 (Daytime Scene)
Weather: Sunny with a few clouds; currently a nice breeze is keeping the temperature cool, but it's bound to get hot later in the afternoon
Scene Description: It's the next morning at camp. The staff are experiencing some oddities, but nothing they can't handle...hopefully.

Current Mystery: The Wailing Woman

Character Roster:
Brett Watts | The Cook
Magnolia Hedrow | Arts & Crafts Supervisor
Isaak Moon | Recreation & Activities Supervisor
Darling Paget | Medical Supervisor
Dakota Braaten | Groundskeeper
Ambrose Verne | Security
Malcolm Winters | Security
Loyd Dumont | Counselor
Chancelor Matthews | Counselor
Jordan Miles | Ranger
Sable Woods | Researcher

Post Header Should Include: Character Name, Location, Interactions (Tag Player OR GM if NPC), Mentions (Tag Player OR Gm if NPC)
 
Last edited:
WW header.gif

"Legend says that after the tragedy of '95, more than just bodies were left around the property. One of the
supervisors apparently jumped in the water to escape the fire that overtook the camp and ended up drowning,
and now her spirit wanders the property. They call her the Wailing Woman. If you spend too much time
around the lake, she might just steal the voice of one of your loved ones and lure you to join her in her watery
grave..." ​

The kids have finally arrived, ant it's time to start the summer off for the first group on the Sunnyshores camp property since '95! Strange things begin happening after a night of scary stories around the campfire, though, and its quickly becoming apparent that the staff and campers aren't the only people in the woods. Who's sabotaging the camp and why? Between strange noises and mysterious sightings, misbehaving children may not be the only thing that the staff at the Sunnyshores camp have to worry about.

Current Mystery Events: TBA
 
Dakota Braaten
Location: Big House --> The Medical Cabin | Interacting: All Staff | Mentions: All Staff​

The novelty of the great outdoors had worn out after the first several days at the camp.

Dakota had arrived earlier than the rest of the staff at the request of the director, who had graciously informed him that he would be the one carting both kids and staff back and forth from the road to the camp. Apparently, there was something about not wanting an excess of cars present on the grounds to save room; the kids would be brought to the dirt road entrance by bus, while other staff were given parking for their cars at a nearby property that the director also owned. He had little complaint about this, honestly, because he got to keep his car, but it also meant the only transportation around the camp consisted of a beat-up school bus that had seen better days and his 2007 Jeep Wrangler, which had also seen better days. There was some problem to be found there, he was sure of it.

Point was, though, that he'd been there about a week early to get the lay of the land and make sure everything worked. The first portion of it was relaxing; the property was beautiful and it wasn't often he got to spend time around the woods. A change of scenery was a welcome change to the usual routine he found himself in. Things got significantly less relaxing after slaughtering his 300th black fly and getting it into his head that he was about to be axe murdered by some creep, a direct result of him getting bored one late night and deciding to put on one of the slasher flick movies they had in the big house for the older kids. From there, the forest became much less desirable to be in.

He'd thought it would be better when the director arrived, but was quickly proved incorrect when she shoved a deck of flashcards into his hands and told him that she would be missing the first staff meeting and would need him to run it. Before he had any time to protest, she was already off again, peeling out of the property like she had places to be and no time to wait around. This left him another day of pacing around his cabin, flipping through the cards and trying to make sense of them but finding her handwriting to be completely incomprehensible. One looked like it said 'staff campfire bonding! : )', but he really couldn't be sure. He'd given up by about mid-evening. Cell connection was absolutely miserable around the camp anyway, so he wasn't about to get any input from the director herself about it. Fate would take its course.

That was a choice he now regretted, standing at the front of the game room of the big house and flipping through the cards once more, this time in front of the staff themselves. Time away from the writing hadn't made it any better. She'd used script, so all the letters blended together into an unreadable mess. For a minute or so, he stood there silently, squinting down and scowling at the index cards as if narrowing his eyes would somehow make the writing understandable. He was able to discern about two sentences of the deck.

"Welcome, staff, to the new and improved Sunnyshores camp. We're so glad that..." The words were said in a completely monotone way until he trailed off, moving the card closer to him and mumbling "What does that say? Jesus Christ...Nevermind. Fuck it." The cards were straightened out with a sigh and shoved into his back pocket, officially discarded in favor of just talking to the group, bluntly stating "The director can't be here for the opening. Family matters. She sends her regards." She didn't, but that still seemed like the sort of thing he should say.

He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, rocking back on his heels. The rest of the staff didn't look incompetent, so he wasn't worried about them burning down the camp (again). They'd all spoken with the director prior to arrival about their plans and the activities they'd be doing, and seeing as he knew absolutely jackshit about recreation or crafts or whatever else the group would be up to, it wasn't as if he was the prime candidate to talk to them about strategies for the kids. The only people he could find himself being slightly worried about were the counselors, but even they looked...well, actually, he wasn't sure how mature they were. He was sure they would be fine, though.

He'd just go over the basics and they could all be on their merry way. They all had things they needed to be doing. "You all already got your keys for your cabins and know what you're doing with the kids. The environment around here should be 'fun and engaging' when they're around." He used the words that the director had said to him, figuring it would be good to mention, even if they all already knew to do that already. "Also, safety-wise, keep an eye on them if they're doing activities with you, don't leave cabinets unlocked, all of that." There was a pause, then he tacked on "If you have questions, there's a specific rock on the red trail that gets good reception if you stand on it, so you can try to reach the director from that. Otherwise, she'll probably be here after the first week. If anything needs fixing, I'll be around, so just let me know." He nodded his head once, thinking that would be good enough. "Alright, meeting over. Welcome to Sunnyshores. The kids will be here around 2, so try to be done with whatever you're up to by then."

It was probably hypocritical of him to fast-walk out the door right after that without waiting for questions considering the grief he'd gone through when the director had done the same to him, but he was far too tired to face any inquiries about things he certainly wouldn't be able to answer. He was woefully unprepared and if they didn't come after him to ask something, then it couldn't be life or death. That was his reasoning at least. Besides, he had a few things to fix anyway. The cabinets in the medical cabin weren't staying closed and, while it wasn't going to kill anyone, he had some time to waste before he went to bring the kids to the grounds. It seemed ridiculous that such a new camp was already having maintenance issues. It could've been worse, though.

On the way out of the big house, he grabbed his toolbox from a table. He'd brought it with him to make things go smoother, since it'd be easier if he was able to get right to work rather than having to hike back to his cabin to grab what he needed. After that, he was on his way to the medical cabin, and soon found himself crouched in front of the offending cabinets, screwdriver in hand as he started to take them apart. His plan boiled down to taking the doors off and then putting them back on and seeing if that somehow magically worked. If it didn't, he'd then try to reason his way through the issue.
 
Darling Paget
Location: Staff Parking → Medical Cabin → Big House → Medical Cabin. (this is a mess) | Interacting: Dakota Braaten | Mentions: All Staff
​

Darling was thrilled to get to leave their car a couple miles out. They had a sort of love for the thing itself, they would always admit—a steadfast companion that had probably taken more shit than it deserved; it was just… driving it that they hated. And being in it for any significant period of time at all. But the amount of noise that vast amounts of nature had to offer was a relief as they rolled the passenger window of the groundskeeper’s car down halfway, expecting only the slight susurration of the trees to break some kind of holy tranquil silence people seemed to associate with the outdoors. The wind tugged gently at the daisy crown he’d made while waiting, a medley of birds and insects hollered unconcernedly, and the racket of the city was acceptably replaced.

In the medical cabin they found a minefield of boxes before they even added their own completely reasonable amount of luggage to it; all the supplies they needed had been sent in but the unpacking and arranging was left to the first occupant of the rebuilt facilities. It would be something to do, at least. She’d had a moment of realization on the trip up, as soon as it was too late to turn around, that a great deal of her job was going to involve sitting around waiting for something unfortunate to happen, and while a bunch of kids in the woods were bound to come up with something multiple times a day, there was probably going to be a lot more idle time than she’d initially accounted for.
They took a moment to shift boxes around, taking stock of the space they’d be calling home. The newness of the building felt a little antithetical to the remote setting, or at least to the vibe his own imagination had conjured of a woodland cabin. Nothing looked worn out, just maybe a little hastily finished. A few of the bottom cabinets gently creaked back open a few inches when he tried to push them shut. Cool. Excellent. Nothing more inviting for a bored preteen than a cupboard of medical supplies sitting ajar and an easily-distracted supervisor. It was fine. They could absolutely deal with that later. They were a pro.

The staff meeting was as quiet and brusque as possibly anything Darling had ever sat through. It was nice to have a look at all their colleagues for the first time, though, and there wasn’t an excess of information to take in. Don’t leave cabinets unlocked, they were warned. Hmm. Uh oh. Neat. She glanced around briefly to see if anyone else had noticed issues in that specific department. Inconclusive. I’m going to get a bad grade in cabinets, they thought distantly, something that is both normal to fear and possible to achieve. Less than a minute later, though, everyone was beginning to head in their own directions, and after letting herself get briefly distracted trying to dispense a few warm hellos, and making a mental note to stop by the art cabin later, she resigned herself to setting to the task of unpacking and organizing.

They took a slight detour to start trying to get a sense of the camp layout on the way back, and found their cabin door already unlocked when they arrived. He had only a moment to worry that he’d actually left it that way after dropping off his things, before noticing Dakota inside, frowning at the thrice-damned cupboards.
"Ooh, are you here to fix those? I was just wondering what to—cause, y'know, I'd have to put the most boring stuff in those ones if it's gonna be hanging—although honestly I don’t think any of these supplies are boring, but to a kid, maybe. Anyway, this place is gonna look like a mess already, so any, uh, organization I don't have to detour is. Mhm." She adjusted her posture, reapplied a smile, and looked around the cabin. "You booked it before any of us said—mm, anything, actually. ‘Hi,’ specifically, was what I was gonna end that thought with, but I guess you’ve met everyone already. You’re keeping very busy."
 
Sable Woods
Location: Big House --> Cabin #4 | Interacting: Open to interaction | Mentions: Dakota Braaten, Jordy Miles
​
Sable sat in the back of the room gnawing on her hoodie strings, lost in thought. Of course it would be today she put the wrong soap in the dishwasher. She hadn't even had time to clean up the suds spilled over the entire kitchen floor before running off to barely meet up with Jordy on time. No point worrying about it now she supposed. There were a whole four weeks ahead of her and she more immediate things to think about. Like her research. And. ... Yeah just the research. Sable smiled to herself at the thought of finally getting to unpack her gear and start prepping for field work. She had the whole afternoon ahead of her to-

"Alright, meeting over. Welcome to Sunnyshores. The kids will be here around 2, so try to be done with whatever you're up to by then."

Dakota's closing words snapped her back to the meeting in front of her. Or rather, the meeting that had just ended. Whoops. That was way more brief than expected and she had caught none of it. It was probably fine, right? What were the chances she couldn't just play it off like she was listening the whole time, anyways. Getting by on context clues was her bread and butter at this point. Satisfied, Sable grabbed the headphones that had been sitting around her neck, pulled them over her ears, and stood to leave. Even if she hadn't been dashing out of the house at the last minute, Jordy had significantly underestimated the travel time from the ranger station to Sunnyshores, making them among the last to arrive. She'd only had a minute run over to her cabin and to toss her bags on the floor before the staff meeting.

Stepping through the door, she took a breath and pulled out an old sansa fuze, hitting shuffle on a playlist titled "Hi-Fi Beats to Eat Rocks To." The faint, tinny sound of Matmos' Breaking Bread could be heard by anyone listening closely. As Sable walked, the straps on her backpack rhythmically clacked against her sides just a touch out of time with the crunch of gravel beneath her feet. Then, a brief moment of silence while she stopped before adjusting her pace to fit in time with the music. Better. It was nice to be out in the woods again. What was it now, almost half a year since her last trip? And with a vague promise of weird stuff to look into no less! Weird as any job calling for a stream ecologist could get at any rate, which is to say "not very" by most people's standards. Sable, however, was not most people.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud *beep* from her headphones. She winced. "Low battery. Please charge." Damn. At least they made it most of the way over. She placed the headphones back around her neck and took a second to look around. The cabin was about fifty feet away, sitting at the end of a row of four. Hm. The kids really were going to be right next to her cabin, huh. They had better keep quiet at night or there were going to be problems. Still, It seemed like a great place overall. She was going to enjoy all the time she had to spend here if it killed her. Sable gave the door a good push and moved to step through. That was what she intended, at least. Sable slammed her whole body into the door as it refused to budge. Fuck. Right. She fished around in her pocket for the keys and opened the door proper this time, rubbing her nose which had taken the brunt of the impact. "Welcome home. Let's do this thing."

Sable's hands moved to her hoodie strings, soft footsteps echoing through the small room as she approached her bags. Which one was it in again? She really should've paid more attention when she was packing. Before long there was a messy pile of clothes, sheets, and notebooks strewn over her entire bunk space. It took unpacking nearly everything she brought, but at last she found what she was looking for. A clear plastic bin full of magic supplies labeled ":3c" Sable reverently placed them on a table in the middle of the room. These were going to be a surprise tool that would help us later.

The thought occurred to her that she should probably clean up the mess before she forgot, but as she turned to do so, she remembered. Wait. Gotta prep some of the supplies first. That needs to be ready for the kids. She spun back around, un-clipped the lid from the bin, and pulled out a couple bottles of clear fluid, mixing them in equal portions. Oh yeah. It was all coming together.
 
Dakota Braaten
Location: The Medical Cabin | Interacting: Darling Paget ( enchanticleer enchanticleer ) | Mentions: N/A
​
The first attempt at the cabinets had been a bust. One of the cabinets had managed to remain shut, but the other two trouble makers refused. He had sat there a minute or so, pushing them closed repeatedly only to watch them creak right back open, before ultimately taking them off the hinges once more to assess the situation. This assessment consisted mostly of him ducking his head down and sticking his head into one of them to look at the where they'd placed the locking mechanism, having a feeling that it wasn't in the right position for the bolt to click into. Fortunately, this guess was proven correct. Unfortunately, having your head in a cabinet wasn't an ideal position to be in when someone came into the room and started speaking to you.

They jerked back from the cabinet when they were addressed, hitting their head along the way on the ceiling of it. Sure, he'd assumed the medical supervisor- Darling, he was pretty sure -would come back eventually, but he hadn't expected to be spoken to. Regardless, his ire was directed entirely at the cabinet in front of him, and he looked at it with undisclosed distaste as he rubbed his head. They hadn't been happy with it to begin with. The minor injury they sustained certainly didn't help their mood.

Despite that, they let the medical supervisor talk, glancing over her for a moment before setting back to work. He was still listening, but could multitask; he was already having terrible hypotheticals come to mind of some child getting into the cabinet and him having to gun it to the nearest hospital before they died from eating a band-aid or something. Or maybe they would chug the antiseptic. Or maybe they would eat the burn cream. He wasn't sure why anyone would do that, but his niece had at one point bitten into a reusable ice pack and slurped out the gel, so he didn't really trust kids to not do insane things with medical supplies.

They flicked their hat up, squinting down at the cabinet doors. God, he was going to have to completely rework the lock, wasn't he? Great. He sighed, then ultimately looked towards Darling. "They put the hole for the lock in the wrong place. One of them is fixed, though." He explained, deciding to ignore the whole leaving-before-anyone-could-say-anything comment, seeing as the answer to such was that he didn't want to be asked questions about anything. It probably wouldn't be a good look. "The other two will take a bit longer. Hand me the blue screwdriver."

If there was going to be someone talking to him, he might as well put them to work. He'd left the toolbox over on one of the tables and, typically, would be fine with getting up and getting it himself, but if he didn't have to he certainly wasn't going to. Though, as he picked up one of the discarded cabinet doors, he realized that maybe just commanding someone to do something without saying anything else to them was rude...or something like that. He didn't know. "Don't want to have to drive any kids to the hospital, so best to fix everything before they get here." They decided to explain, shifting so that they were sitting cross-legged instead of kneeling "Also getting paid to fix their shoddy work, so..."
 



chance.





































  • mood



    "do i look like i wanna be here?"
















"No, really,"
Chance drawled over the cell, his eyelids fluttering thinly over dark brown hues as though his friend, on the other end of the line, could see it through the clouded and digitized lens of the flip phone.
"I'm adoring the great outdoors, truly! Especially these goddamn bugs—"


It was almost with comedic timing his friend's laughter died out on the other end of the phone, and Chance gripped his arm-rest as if though it had wronged him in some way. The frankly horrid cell reception must have meant he was at his destination, and he opted to leave his belongings in the car for now as he slammed the door to the vehicle. His parents had downgraded him in every aspect, getting rid of his shiny Tesla for a shitty Dodge Challenger. Apparently, not only would he be isolated from his life, he wouldn't even have the goddamn remnants of it.

Ugh. Orientation, right? And then he could plead to his mom that her poor, poor boy just needed to be home, he missed her so so much—!

Chance would never admit it outright— God knows his ego would have him by the throat— but he'd heard the rumors of Sunnyshore and it's haunted grounds. He wasn't exactly to keen on walking through the woods to get to his intended location, but he managed to swallow the rising whimper in his throat as he pushed open the house doors, combing stray leaves and pine needles out of his hair as he nestled himself into a corner to listen to the groundskeeper drone on. Keep the kids entertained, a welcoming environment, whatever— he just needed to keep himself from causing any trouble before he could get out of here.

Once his boredom was alleviated, Chance slipped out as fast as he possibly could to unload his belongings from his car. His cabin was barren for now, but what good would decorating it do when he'd be gone within the week? No offense to Sunnyshores and its staff, but he wasn't cut out for the dirty work of dealing with snotty (well, that was hypocritical, he thought) kids in the dirty ass woods. That red rock— the groundskeeper said it had decent reception, right?

If he could just get there, he'd be free of his torment before it begun.

With that sentiment in mind, the cabin door quietly creaked open as Chance begun his descent into the grassy wood once again. And with every stray animal squeak and brush of bush against his skin, he thought maybe the children would be worth it over what could potentially come out and attack him in these backwoods.

Call him childish, but Chance really, really wanted to go back to his own bed.

































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
click/tap on the o in ambrose to access the little tags! ​









Ambrose, quite frankly, was quite excited about being a security guard at the camp. Wait, no, excited would be the understatement of the whole year. Ambrose was enthusiastic about it. The woods were a pleasant, peaceful scenery to be around, and he was going to be enjoying the woods for all the time he’s out here in the camp. The thing he could live without would be the heat. He’s never really been a huge fan of the heat, the icky, gross, heat that ruins his hair, but the heat will not ruin his enthusiasm.

Dakota mentioned something about safety and keeping an eye on kids during activities at the staff meeting or something like that.

Keeping an eye on kids and keeping them from sneaking around at night and doing whatever they wanted? No problem! Well, hopefully there won't be a problem regarding that provided Ambrose just does a thorough walking around the camp and doing his job. Granted, he has never held down a job for very long either when he was younger and out and about job seeking. Some might ask why, Ambrose will simply say that he just ended up growing bored and restless at said jobs and he would leave it at that. Perhaps how Ambrose even landed this job is a mystery in itself, and it’s possible that it will remain that way. Most likely, Ambrose will get distracted from his job and end up wandering off to do his own thing; maybe he’ll finish up that latest crossword puzzle without flipping to the back of the book to cheat and look at the answers. Crosswords are very nice.

Not now, though, Ambrose could do that later. For now, he has very important things to take care of. Such as unpacking his things and putting them where he wanted.

“Alright, meeting over. Welcome to Sunnyshores. The kids will be here around 2, so try to be done with whatever you’re up to by then.”

Oh, is the meeting over already? Well then, Ambrose can get to work on unpacking his things and then he’ll see what he can do before two o’clock when the kids arrive. Right, it's time to go and do that now.

Stormy the cat plush, something he threw into his suitcase to bring with him, he wasn’t sure why exactly he decided to take the cat in tow with him but it’s a nice little touch. Specifically, Stormy sits right in the middle of the bed and stays there. Everything else, however, was a different story; he’ll just wear whatever change of clothes he grabbed from the pile in the drawer first and call it a day. The little bags of hard candies go on the nightstand, the books he brought, both the little ghost book and flimsy books of puzzles go on the desk.

Did he forget to unpack anything and there’s something lying around in his suitcase still? Maybe not but it still wouldn’t hurt to do a little double checking of things just to be sure. Besides, he’ll be doing double checks when he’s doing his job anyways. Ambrose did a brisk double check of his cabin to ensure that yes, he had unpacked his things and that no, he didn’t forget to unpack everything.

Alright, he’s good to go now! Ambrose was very pleased, and now he could relax for a while until the kids get here. Hmmm, but what to do until then? He could go exploring around camp and familiarize himself with his surroundings. He could pick up one of his books and occupy himself with that until then as well. His lips pursed in thought as he debated on what he should do, finally settling on going outside and walking and exploring the camp a little. Very pleasant scenery, and it's very calming.

Ambrose stepped outside and he began to wander off. Time to nose around and get used to his surroundings, this should be very calming and nice. Where to explore first, though? Eh, he'll just wander off somewhere and start from there hopefully. Bugs he could live without though. He absolutely dreaded the bugs and the heat, so icky. Amby nosed around a little, just out of curiosity. Maybe he really should have brought a book along, reading and walking and nosing around.








the security



ambrose.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 
mood
❝ Maybe this ain't as easy as I thought.❞

location
Parking > Big House > Kitchen

interactions
Open

mentions
Dakota
Brett Watts

Brett sat in his car as long as he could. Soaking up the cool conditioned air as his forehead rested against the steering wheel. One thing that he had overlooked was the heat, but it certainly didn't overlook him. With a grumble he stretched his arms out in front of him and then raised them up over his head, letting out a big sigh as he finally opened the door and stepped out into the sun. He'd managed to somehow fit everything into a single overly stuffed backpack which he slung over his shoulder. What he was bringing was about a quarter of everything he owned, the other quarter being whatever was left in his station wagon and the last half sitting in a tiny storage locker all the way back in Minnesota. He assumed the basics would be fine, they weren't exactly full-on roughing it.

Shifting back and forth Brett nodded along during the meeting. Despite its short duration, he was only half-listening, more distracted by the other staff. Wanting to take the opportunity to introduce himself. He still got the gist of it. Fun, safe, something about rocks? Oh and that the kids would be there by 2. 2... That didn't give him a ton of time. He wished he'd been briefed more on what their arrival entailed. Was he supposed to fix lunch or is it to be assumed the kids already ate since it's after the camp scheduled lunch time by then? By the time he thought to ask he looked around to notice the groundkeeper had already vanished. Oh dear. Well, either way Brett decided getting familiar with the kitchen would probably be a good idea since he'd have to prepare dinner later anyway. Maybe personal introductions would have to wait..

Shuffling through the space he looked in all the cabinets and drawers and peeked into the fridge, freezer, and pantry space. Thankful that whatever food service the camp went through had been delivered before he'd gotten there. And also very glad he basically had the kitchen to himself. Especially after the last incident. Though that did mean he'd be making everything himself as well. Brett paced back and forth as he thought. It would probably be a good idea to give the kids something to tide them over till dinner. But figuring out what was the problem. He remembered from the information he was given that a few of the campers did have allergies or restrictions. And luckily he'd printed the information off so he wouldn't forget. He reached into his pockets, digging around for the folded piece of paper but only coming back with a few fuzzes of lint.

Oh. Oh no. Brett's hands quickly fumbled through all of his pockets again, patting himself down as he scoured for the slip of paper. Of course. Of course, he lost it. Brett sucked in a deep breath. "Uh. No. It's fine. It's fine. Improvise." He muttered to himself. Just cover all the major bases it should be fine??? Uh. What would that be? Brett counted on his fingers as his head raced. Dairy, eggs, gluten, nuts, fish, possibly vegan? Alright, what covers all that. Could just cut up some fruit. That's boring. Oh wow, welcome to camp here's some cubed fruit kiddos. Okay, not fruit! Trail mix. TRAIL MIX! That's a camp-related snack. That usually has nuts in it. "Don't add the nuts." Brett stopped, not realizing how fast he'd been pacing the kitchen, no doubt he'd leave a rut in the linoleum if this kept up the entire duration of camp. He eyed the panty, giving the contents another look as he started pulling boxes and packaging. Chex. Rice and corn. Chex mix trail mix? He nodded to himself. No Worcestershire. Fish. His brow furrowed. Soy sauce. "Sure." he mumbled aloud as he continued pulling things. Sunflower seeds, yeah, not a nut. Cheerios. Oats. Hell yeah.

Setting all the items down on the counter he washed his hands and pulled out the biggest sheet pan he could find. dumping them onto it and with some gloves on mixed them together well with the appropriate seasoning. After that was popped in the oven he wandered back over to the pantry. Throw in some banana chips and raisins. Classic. With the mix in the oven, getting all the flavors of the seasoning baked in he sat on the floor in front of it. Mind wandering while he stared into the little window. At what point of adding things does the chex mix become trail mix? If it has Chex does it automatically mean it's always Chex mix? Philosophers may never find out the real answer.

A short while later it was done, mixed, put in individual baggies, and set out on the countertop. Brett sat down on the floor. Holding his temples and grimacing. Not because of the allergies, of course, that can't be helped and all the kids deserve to have something they can enjoy without worrying. He should've put his notes somewhere safer. That was definitely irresponsible. He let out a big sigh then paused as he had a realization. He had a copy saved to his phone and there was probably the same list at the medical cabin. Brett groaned loudly but was also ecstatic he had the chance to make sure before it was too late. Fumbling with his phone for a minute till he found it. He let out another sigh of relief before flopping back on the floor. It was fine, he didn't miss anything. Now all he had to do was figure out dinner but before that with still some time left...he had an idea.
.
coded by reveriee

​
Brett Watts​

Mood: "Maybe this ain't as easy as I thought."
Location: Parking > Big House > Kitchen
Interactions: Open
Mentions: Dakota
Brett sat in his car as long as he could. Soaking up the cool conditioned air as his forehead rested against the steering wheel. One thing that he had overlooked was the heat, but it certainly didn't overlook him. With a grumble he stretched his arms out in front of him and then raised them up over his head, letting out a big sigh as he finally opened the door and stepped out into the sun. He'd managed to somehow fit everything into a single overly stuffed backpack which he slung over his shoulder. What he was bringing was about a quarter of everything he owned, the other quarter being whatever was left in his station wagon and the last half sitting in a tiny storage locker all the way back in Minnesota. He assumed the basics would be fine, they weren't exactly full-on roughing it.

Shifting back and forth Brett nodded along during the meeting. Despite its short duration, he was only half-listening, more distracted by the other staff. Wanting to take the opportunity to introduce himself. He still got the gist of it. Fun, safe, something about rocks? Oh and that the kids would be there by 2. 2... That didn't give him a ton of time. He wished he'd been briefed more on what their arrival entailed. Was he supposed to fix lunch or is it to be assumed the kids already ate since it's after the camp scheduled lunch time by then? By the time he thought to ask he looked around to notice the groundkeeper had already vanished. Oh dear. Well, either way Brett decided getting familiar with the kitchen would probably be a good idea since he'd have to prepare dinner later anyway. Maybe personal introductions would have to wait..

Shuffling through the space he looked in all the cabinets and drawers and peeked into the fridge, freezer, and pantry space. Thankful that whatever food service the camp went through had been delivered before he'd gotten there. And also very glad he basically had the kitchen to himself. Especially after the last incident. Though that did mean he'd be making everything himself as well. Brett paced back and forth as he thought. It would probably be a good idea to give the kids something to tide them over till dinner. But figuring out what was the problem. He remembered from the information he was given that a few of the campers did have allergies or restrictions. And luckily he'd printed the information off so he wouldn't forget. He reached into his pockets, digging around for the folded piece of paper but only coming back with a few fuzzes of lint.

Oh. Oh no. Brett's hands quickly fumbled through all of his pockets again, patting himself down as he scoured for the slip of paper. Of course. Of course, he lost it. Brett sucked in a deep breath. "Uh. No. It's fine. It's fine. Improvise." He muttered to himself. Just cover all the major bases it should be fine??? Uh. What would that be? Brett counted on his fingers as his head raced. Dairy, eggs, gluten, nuts, fish, possibly vegan? Alright, what covers all that. Could just cut up some fruit. That's boring. Oh wow, welcome to camp here's some cubed fruit kiddos. Okay, not fruit! Trail mix. TRAIL MIX! That's a camp-related snack. That usually has nuts in it. "Don't add the nuts." Brett stopped, not realizing how fast he'd been pacing the kitchen, no doubt he'd leave a rut in the linoleum if this kept up the entire duration of camp. He eyed the panty, giving the contents another look as he started pulling boxes and packaging. Chex. Rice and corn. Chex mix trail mix? He nodded to himself. No Worcestershire. Fish. His brow furrowed. Soy sauce. "Sure." he mumbled aloud as he continued pulling things. Sunflower seeds, yeah, not a nut. Cheerios. Oats. Hell yeah.

Setting all the items down on the counter he washed his hands and pulled out the biggest sheet pan he could find. dumping them onto it and with some gloves on mixed them together well with the appropriate seasoning. After that was popped in the oven he wandered back over to the pantry. Throw in some banana chips and raisins. Classic. With the mix in the oven, getting all the flavors of the seasoning baked in he sat on the floor in front of it. Mind wandering while he stared into the little window. At what point of adding things does the chex mix become trail mix? If it has Chex does it automatically mean it's always Chex mix? Philosophers may never find out the real answer.

A short while later it was done, mixed, put in individual baggies, and set out on the countertop. Brett sat down on the floor. Holding his temples and grimacing. Not because of the allergies, of course, that can't be helped and all the kids deserve to have something they can enjoy without worrying. He should've put his notes somewhere safer. That was definitely irresponsible. He let out a big sigh then paused as he had a realization. He had a copy saved to his phone and there was probably the same list at the medical cabin. Brett groaned loudly but was also ecstatic he had the chance to make sure before it was too late. Fumbling with his phone for a minute till he found it. He let out another sigh of relief before flopping back on the floor. It was fine, he didn't miss anything. Now all he had to do was figure out dinner but before that with still some time left...he had an idea.
 
Darling Paget
Location:   Medical Cabin | Interacting: Dakota Braaten

“Oh, sure, sure.” Darling poked through the nearby box to find the requested tool, handing it handle-first and taking the opportunity to peer over Dakota’s shoulder at the lock in question. They nodded thoughtfully and entirely performatively, not seeing the problem as described at all. The fellow seemed to know what he was doing, which, she reflected, was really all she needed to know. They stepped back and leaned a little on their suitcase handle where it stood in the middle of the room, wondering how long it was going to take to unpack the supplies and her own things. Considering the campers were meant to arrive before the sun was really on the downswing, he was probably going to have to just throw his suitcases into the adjoining personal space and deal with the work stuff first.
As they hauled the heaviest into their living space with no small effort, they called over their shoulder:
“Thanks, by the way. I mean, I know it’s your job, but, you know, it was someone’s job to build these right in the first place, so." She paused to catch her breath with maybe a hair more exhaustion than was entirely reasonable, frowning for a moment as they wondered if they were more out of shape than they'd realized or just had—no, they definitely had a normal amount of luggage. It was nothing to be embarrassed about; the clinic they'd been at for nearly the past decade was so small and basic they'd hardly had to properly wrangle a patient in ages, and they were always happy to avoid the unnecessary stress on their arm.
They tilted their head at Dakota. "Anyway, is your head—Are you okay? I think it would probably look bad for me if you leave the medical cabin more injured than when you went in, on the. Well, it’s only the first day.”
 
Isaak Moon
Big House -> Lake | Interactions: Open | Mentions: Dakota Braaten​

Isaak was proud of himself for not calling, “Okay, byeeee,” after the groundskeeper’s quick retreat after the very, very short meeting. It would have been mean, even though it would have also been (in his opinion) very funny. Instead he stood, only leaning a little on his walking stick for support, and gave his spine a small stretch, making sure he hadn’t done something to it by having the audacity to sit down in an unfamiliar chair. He hadn’t, and so he left the Big House and headed down to the lake. Possibly he should have waited, tried to get to know some of his new coworkers, but there would be time for that later. Besides, most were dispersing nearly as quickly as the groundskeeper had.

Not a chatty bunch, he supposed.

Isaak had managed to steal time before the meeting to check out the rec cabin itself. It had some bean bag chairs and an incredibly ugly and comfy brown corduroy couch set up in a corner behind the big ping-pong table dominating most of the room, and a storage space that had new dodge balls and croquet equipment and cheap fiberglass bows. Isaak was pretty sure that if he moved the ping pong table out of the way he’d have plenty of room to torment children with yoga on really rainy days. Before the kids got here though, he still wanted to check out the beach, and the canoes, and maybe, if he was lucky, check out at least one of the smaller trails.

The lake was still, the flat surface a deep blue in the early afternoon light, the sound of the small waves gently lapping against the wooden dock the only sound competing with the chirps of songbirds in the woods. The padlock on the boat shed was so new that Isaak had to tug hard on it to pull it open after turning the key, but better being too hard to unlock than the reverse, he figured. Inside, there was a neat stack of a dozen kayaks and canoes, all as new and shiny as the cheap bows had been. They looked sound enough though, so Isaak finished his inspection quickly and locked the shed back up.

The little beach was nice, Isaak decided, standing in the sand and stretching again, this time paying more attention to his bad knee. It felt alright too, so all around, a small hike seemed like a good idea.

If he’d had more time to himself, Isaak would have preferred to do the loop around the lake, but he didn’t want to cut things too close. Instead, he cut back closer to the rest of camp to get onto the Overlook trail instead. Half hour out, half hour back, would be plenty of time before the campers arrived.
 
Dakota Braaten
Location: The Medical Cabin | Interacting: Darling Paget ( enchanticleer enchanticleer ) | Mentions: N/A​

Dakota watched the medic struggle in his peripheral vision with the suitcase she was carrying, seeming to have significant trouble with it. He kept himself from stepping in at first. It was second nature for him to consider getting up, going over, and just taking the suitcase and taking over moving the excessive number of packed items himself- he didn't have that much stuff, did everyone else have that much stuff? -but he knew that sometimes, sudden help wasn't welcome. So, instead, he focused on putting the doors back on the hinges. He didn't have what he needed to completely fix it, unfortunately. The cabinets had defeated him for the moment.

Which meant that it took little more than a few moments to get the doors back on the hinges and back to being as fixed as he could get them without resorting to power tools. Once he was finished, he was back to eyeing what was left of Darling's luggage, staring at it. They could easily take care of it. It wouldn't take much. It would probably take less time than if they let her take it to the room on her own, in fact. That said, Darling might not want the help and be more offended than grateful for it. He waffled over his choices for a moment, the obvious solution of just fucking asking evading him completely, and he missed what was said to him for a moment.

Right. His head. It still ached a bit, but he'd had worse. He shrugged his shoulders, getting to his feet and heading to the tool box, setting what he had used on the cabinets back inside and closing it up. "I won't tell if you don't." He really need it looked at. He didn't hit it too hard and he'd certainly had worse. So long as he didn't have a concussion, he'd be fine. "Should probably leave any medical supplies til after the kids come."

Once he was satisfied with putting his tools away, he near-instantly turned on his heels, marched over to the other two suitcases, and hoisted them up. He'd hand it to Darling, they were heavier than expected- he still wasn't sure who would need this much stuff, and his bafflement almost made him want to crack them open and see what could possibly be in them. He resisted that urge, though, and was still able to carry both with relative ease. "Where do you want these?" No need to ask for permission if they were already carrying them, right?
 
the ranger
location
the big house & cabin #4.
mood
laidback and casual.
outfit
regulation nps summer uniform.
mentions
dakota braaten, sable woods
interations
RoseGoes RoseGoes
jordan miles.
Not the first time Jordan Miles had underestimated the distance needed to be traveled. Would not be the last. Being in a rush was not really Jordy's thing. Besides, if anyone asked him, they had arrived precisely on time.

Okay, sure, everyone was already seated in the front room by the time they made it into the meeting, and sure, he was the only one sitting at the back of the room with all his gear on him— duffel bag, backpack, and guitar case all in their glory, but hey, no one had started talking until a couple of minutes after they sat down.

He hadn't taken the time to drop off his luggage in their shared cabin, choosing a casual walk to the large cabin in the middle of the campground with all his things. He had watched as Sable Woods, the researcher he had driven here with, rushed to get her belongings in the cabin in time. Besides, they made it to the front doors of the Big House (as was written on the sign above the door) around the same time, so Jordy wasn't sweating over it.

He had taken a seat in the back— close to Sable, but not too close. He got the feeling that she wasn't too happy with him, though he couldn't see why. But, that's not the first time that's happened. Would not be the last.

He took a second to take a quick glance around the room as the groundskeeper stood silently at the front, reading from their palm. He didn't recognize anyone as regulars to this area; at least, no one who came through the ranger station, though that really didn't mean anything in particular. It was a diverse group of people, with some looking more suited for the outdoors life than others. Jordy didn't judge; he was a great proprietor of getting out of the comfort zone. He'd have to go around and make more formal introductions, to get to know who he was working with.

Taking his hat off briefly to run a hand through his hair, he leaned back in his chair, turning his attention to the groundskeeper, who had finally begun to address the small crowd.

"...The environment around here should be 'fun and engaging' when they're around."

'Fun and engaging' wouldn't be an issue for Jordy— that's the whole reason he was sitting here with Sable, anyway. It's no secret around the preverbal (and physical) ranger campfire that Jordy was great with kids; he proposed and supervised a couple of kid-oriented hikes during the summers, which had gotten pretty popular the last few years. Jordy wasn't even on the research assignment until it came through that they'd need to participate in the summer camp to get any access to the grounds. Dean Ruskee, the original ranger on the task, had pulled out after that; he was shit when it came to kids. Jordy had only learned about this a week ago.

Not that he was complaining; the whole situation seemed right up his alley.

"Also, safety-wise, keep an eye on them if they're doing activities with you..."

As if that wasn't the point of his whole job, but he guessed that was geared to the rest of the staff.

"Alright, meeting over. Welcome to Sunnyshores. The kids will be here around 2, so try to be done with whatever you're up to by then."

Huh, short and sweet. He looked down at his watch; only a couple of hours until two, but that was plenty of time to get himself situated and take a look around the grounds.

Jordy rose from his seat, tipping his hat in silent greeting to those who passed by him on their way out the door. He turned to look for Sable, only to notice she was no longer sitting by him. In confusion, he spun around to catch a glimpse of her making her way out the door. Cursing to himself, he quickly gathered up his gear and followed behind her, squinting his eyes as they made contact with the bright light of the sun outside.

"So, you heading back towards the—" He paused mid-sentence as faint music reached his ears, which he assumed was coming from her headphones. Without turning around, the researcher walked off in the direction of the cabin, leaving Jordy standing by himself by the doors of the Big House. Pursing his lips, he chalked that up to bad timing on his part, not that she was ignoring him. Though, he hoped she realized that he wasn't trying to be clingy; she was just the only person he knew at the moment. Besides, they'd be staying and working together for about four weeks, she would have to get used to him being around at some point. Maybe. Hopefully.

He walked into the cabin about ten minutes after Sable, after having gotten... distracted on his way over. He had acquired an extra item— an old and slightly soggy cardboard box he had found behind the cabin.

As he opened the front door, he paused in the doorframe, blinking a few times in surprise. The place— well, at least the side that Sable was on— looked like it had been ransacked. It seemed like everything was tossed all over the place. He smirked to himself; at least they'd get along fine in terms of the living arrangements. He wasn't the tidiest person either.

He placed his gear near one of the beds on the other side of the room, hanging his hat on the bed frame before running a hand through his hair.

It didn't take much time for him to unpack his side. His extra uniforms were thrown on hangers, hanging from one of the unused bunks. The rest of his clothes remained in his duffel bag and pushed under the bed. He balanced the guitar case against the frame of his bunk. His journals and various books were set by the windowsill, his quilt and pillows laid across the bed. He used the cardboard box to store the items that he had brought for the kids; various pieces of safety and hiking equipment he had grabbed from the station and the like. After pushing the box by the guitar case with his foot, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the backpack into his lap to rifle through it— oh, damn, the sourdough starter. He'd have to find his way to the kitchen in order to access a refrigerator.

He rose from the bed, grabbing his hat and his pair of sunglasses before making his way towards the front door, sourdough starter in tow.

"Hey, so, I'm heading out to do a one-two of the grounds, um, after I find the kitchen." He paused by the door, wiggling the jar of sourdough starter in his hand for emphasis, giving her a small smile. "Didn't know if you wanted to tag along for the, uh, research purposes."
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:
Magnolia Hedrow
Location: Big House -> Arts & Crafts Cabin | Interactions: Open | Mentions: Dakota Braaten, Counselors​

Magnolia was more than thrilled to be back out in the woods again for another camp season. This year especially brought with it a welcome retreat from the general chaos that had indiscriminately seeped more and more into both her work and personal life back at home, and so the promise of a month long foray in the wilderness to distract her was more enticing than ever. Sure, she was a little sad that the Hawk Mountain camp was finally shutting it's doors, but she was also intrigued about this brand new Sunnyshores camp, considering its darker moments in history and, well, that only made her more excited for the upcoming camp session.

The meeting run by Dakota in the Big House was admittedly quite short, and the room cleared out quite rapidly afterwards. Maggie felt comfortable enough with the goings-on of typical camp life and handling children, they made a mental note to check in with the counselors a little bit later just to make sure they were staying above sea level. Maybe she could offer some nameplates as well to help the kids with remembering all the names. Plus, she'd only met a smattering of people that didn't enjoy decorating name tags. People grow up, but almost everyone will sit down for colored pencils, a stencil and few limitations for what you can draw or color.

Magnolia had hauled all of her bags and extra supplies to the arts & crafts cabin earlier, but had spent most of her remaining time before the staff meeting examining the cabin itself and planning out where and how exactly all of the supplies would be organized and stored. Now, armed with more time, their iPod and a tentative layout they had scribbled down on a napkin during the staff meeting, they began to tackle the main cabin space. String lights and drying lines made of twine and clothespins went up on the walls and shelves and containers were stocked with various supplies and labeled for easy identification. Any of her personal objects were moved into the connected living space, a problem to unpack later that evening once camp had officially kicked off.

By the time Maggie had finished with the main cabin there was still some time before the campers arrived, and as someone who was also not immune to the draw of colored pencils and a stencil, they settled down to make their own name tag. Sure, she wanted to explore and familiarize herself with the grounds of this new camp, but it wasn't as if they would have kids in the arts cabin at all hours. There was plenty of time to do that in the coming days.
 
Malcolm Uriel Winters
Location: Big House -> Outside | Interacting: Brett Watts, Ambrose Verne | Mentions: All Staff​
What kind of meeting was that? Not to be rude, but that's it? he wants to ask. Nobody else seemed to mind the groundskeeper's quick departure however, and easily turned their attention to other things. Well then. Malcolm sighs quietly, rolling his shoulders. He supposes he should go mind his own business as well. He expected a warmer welcome, at the very least. A clap on the back or a handshake before he was ultimately left to do things on his own. But they got all they needed to know. The kids would be here by 2; they all had some time to properly prepare. Hopefully, the children would be well-behaved and no one would try to run off in the middle of the night. Goodness knows what they'd get themselves into if they did. Nothing 'fun and engaging' about that. Ah, he should stop complaining. He knows what it's like to have sudden responsibility dumped on him, after all. When he steps out of the Big House, he breathes in deeply, eyes sliding shut for a moment.

While he never did enjoy the feeling of being far from home, he knows his family is only one call away--provided that Malcolm calls them on that "red trail rock" for better reception. Plus, since he had everything ready ahead of time, no bloodthirsty insect wanted to even glance in his direction. He can enjoy the warm outdoor air and the view of the wilderness peacefully. Before enjoyment though, he should probably check in on the people who decided to stay in the Big House. The guard walks back inside, taking note of its quiet emptiness. So many rooms in here. He pops his head into the kitchen. There's... a lot of nervous energy in here. The cook seemed to be fussing over something. That can't be a good sign. Still, he asks, "All good in here?" He waits for a few seconds, whether he gets a response or not. Must be concentrating. Better not distract him. "Just call if you need anything." And thus, he retreats with a tip of his cap. He'll be fine. Not like the cook would set the kitchen on fire.

He doesn't hear anymore footsteps upstairs. Looks like that was the only person in here. His luggage is already unpacked. Before he heads into the great open space once more, he takes the sunglasses hanging from the front of his shirt and unfolds them. There, now the sunlight won't blind him that much. Now, it's time to do a quick patrol of the rest of the camp to make sure no one's in trouble and all that. If he remembers correctly, there's another one on the security team. It's good to know that he won't be alone on the job, although they should probably coordinate their patrol paths and whatnot. The more ground they cover, the easier it would be to watch over the campers. Maybe later they'd have the opportunity to talk.

Oh, but here's someone to talk to. The man looked like he was trying to dive into the land of anywhere-but-here. Malcolm should know, he's been told that he had that look before when he used to write. It's easy to jog up to him, waving. "Hi." He's not the least bit winded.
 
Last edited:
Isaak Moon
Sunset Overlook Trail | Interactions: Open | Mentions: N/A
​
For all his traveling, Isaak had never been on the east coast much, but it only took him a little ways into the trail to decide he liked Maine. The forest was mostly pine, with a good scattering of old hardwood trees—oak and maple and birch. He paused every so often to note down, in his battered old journal, a particularly interesting mushroom or lichen or bird to look up later.

The trail sloped up, becoming rockier as it went, and as he approached the top the treeline abruptly ended, leading him out to a little bare cliff. He had a view of the forest to the west, complete with signs warning you to stay away from the edge. Isaak started forward, intending to get closer to see just how far the drop down was, but as he came out of the tree line movement in the open ground in front of him drew his gaze down.

For a moment he thought he was looking at a swarm of large insects, or some kind of rodent. But they were not insects, or rodents, though the longer he looked the more baffled he was about what they could possibly be.

They were dark and round, about the size of a baseball at the largest, and they skittered across the open ground in front of the cliff drop from shadow to shadow, hiding in the little pools of darkness that rocks or logs made. They were not perfectly round, maybe: they seemed to change shape a bit to match whatever shadow they were in, though that didn’t really make sense.

Isaak remained frozen in the tree line for a moment, watching them. The little creatures had little arms and little legs and little eyes, and they clutched leaves over their heads like little people holding scarves to protect themselves from a sudden downpour as they scurried around the overlook. Very slowly, Isaak pulled his journal out of his pocket and attempted to sketch the creatures, though the harder he looked at them the less sense they made.

They were collecting rocks, he realized quickly. When one of the creatures found a likely looking one, they would abandon their leaf and instead hoist it over their head and scuttle off with it above their heads. They were all moving to and fro in the same direction. They looked, Isaak thought, like fanciful creatures from a Ghibli movie, or perhaps from a Moomin comic.

After several moments of quietly watching, Isaak took a step forward out of the tree line. “Hey, little guys,” he said softly, like he would if he had unexpectedly come out in a field of cows. “Whatcha doin’?”

The creatures scattered like teenagers at an illicit party hearing sirens: all at once and with a great deal of chaos. Unlike teenagers, they all ran in the same direction, back to the tree line where they had been ferrying rocks.

Isaak watched them for a moment before taking a hesitant step after them. One of the creatures hurled a rock at his ankles, thought it fell several feet short. Isaak stopped anyway.

“Okay, okay,” he said, and watched them disappear. With a frown, he pulled his compass out, and checked the direction they were going.

They were heading directly towards the old camp.

“That’s not like. Foreboding at all,” he muttered. He tucked the compass back in his pocket and noted that down in his journal. Then he checked his watch.

He still had time.

Isaak waffled for a moment on the edge of the tree line, before reluctantly turning back. He was alone in the woods, and no one knew where he was, and if something went wrong…

(When he stopped thinking about other things, Isaak was always thinking about falling.)

He’d get someone to come with him. See if he could track these strange little creatures again.

He bent down and picked up the rock that had been thrown at him. It wasn’t anything special. Just a little lump of granite. Isaak tossed it in his hand and then lobbed it underhand, gently, at the treeline where the creatures had disappeared.

“Next time,” he said.
 









Ambrose wondered if he should cut the exploring short for today. Well, he probably won’t be able to familiarize himself with everything before two o’clock. Perhaps just enough so that he won’t wind up getting lost in the dark, or in the woods. That would not be pleasant at all, even with a flashlight. Besides, this is a great way to keep boredom at bay, and it’s quite relaxing too. Being out and about before the kids get here is calming in a way, at least to Amby it is. How much time has passed anyway? Not much time maybe? Ah, Ambrose has plenty of time before two anyways. Hmmm, maybe a little more walking around and then he could probably head back to the Big House for the remainder of the hours until then.

Yeah, there’s no harm in being nosy some more. He's got time left. Walks are very nice, and it’s like he’s already doing patrol! That’s how it felt to Ambrose. Wait, is he on patrol right now or is he just doing walks around the camp? Or does his job officially start when the campers arrive? Eh, it doesn’t matter really. Oh, speaking of patrols, Ambrose has a security buddy doesn't he? Wow! A partner!

Well, he and his partner might end up getting along. Being both security and at camp, they're going to be interacting with each other. Here's to hoping Ambrose and his fellow security guard partner will get along. Hmmm, maybe they could do patrol together sometimes. That sounds nice. He'll have to talk to his buddy sometime about patrols and stuff and whatever else they could talk about.

Ah, his thoughts are starting to become rambling and jumbled, are they? Well, it's back to exploring! Now, where to go?

"Hi."

Oh.

Quite frankly, Ambrose was surprised by the voice. He wasn't expecting it, but he didn't really mind someone coming up to him. It did bring him out of his curiously snoopy state though. Ambrose was quick to straighten his posture, followed by his fingers running through his hair. He could talk to this man, strike up a lovely conversation with him. What they would converse about he did not know yet.

Right, Ambrose totally was not startled. Not at all. "Hello…." Wow, that came out rather awkwardly, didn't it? That's okay though. He’ll just think of something else to say! “I was just exploring around the camp.” He said after a small clearing of his throat. A great starter even though Amby was stating the obvious! What else should he say now? Maybe he should wait the other to say something in response. Possible exploring around the camp together? Company is always welcome after all! Another clearing of his throat before he continued, "Were you about to explore too?"








the security



ambrose.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 

LOYD DUMONT.
location: big house -> cabin -> woods/sunset overlook trail. interactions: n/a. mentions: dakota
​
As the meeting had concluded as hastily as it had begun, Loyd warily glanced around to see if this was all a joke, but only found the gathered staff all dispersing instead. That's it? They swore they read on the ad was the camp's first run in a good while, but it seemed everyone was already carrying on their duties. And yeah, they know it all on paper, but that never helps much when it comes to the real deal. The meeting might as well have just been a pat on the back, but noting the index cards the groundskeeper had, Loyd could sympathize. God knows he always hated having to fill in. Still, Not wanting to draw attention to their slight internal panic, Loyd instead chose to slip out with the departing few as well, looking anywhere but at the others. Ok, fine. Maybe this was just how they did things, all casual and stuff. He can handle it. Sure, they are no veteran counselor, but they've worked with kids. Perhaps the camp etiquette is just to learn on the job. Yeah, that's probably it.

Besides, the rumors about Maine in summer really are true, huh?

Breathing in deeply as a cool breeze passed by, Loyd can't help but appreciate the way the camp is enthralled by the woods. On their way in, they've been too busy trying to shake off car sickness to notice the environment; turns out, long car trips isn't something they're ever going to grow to enjoy (even if he wasn't even the one behind the wheel, having been driven over on a favor from a friend) By the time they lugged everything into the room and did the bare minimum of unpacking, they were running to the meeting.

Looking around now, however, the camp was... rather nice. New, certainly, but there was pleasantness in the way the world vanished into the shadows of the wood, and along with it some of their usual woes too. Plus, despite how similar some flora appeared, Loyd noticed how different it is from the plants they'd find on hikes in the pacific northwest mountains. Maybe they've just been indoors for too long this year, but it felt damn good to stretch their limbs out again. And well, they can fold their shirts or something and call their parents like he was instructed to but honestly? They can tell actual quiet is going to be rare in the coming weeks, and they'd be damned to not take advantage of it. Those things can be done later anyway, and he was not about to waste their precious downtime on finding some magical phone call rock.

Maybe some exploring will help them walk off (ha!) some of the nerves too.

Mind now set, Loyd took to wandering to all the closer camp structures first, mentally taking notes before moving on until they eventually reached the start of a trail. It led to... a name they can't quite place their finger on. Loyd can't even remember if it was from a map or the info for the counselors and whatnot, but they do know it was one of the shorter trails- perfect for burning a little time without having to get lost on their first day. Who knows? If it led somewhere nice and quiet, they'll come back when they really need some time off. And honestly, as long as it wasn't near the lake or the pond, they're a-ok with it.

Thoughts drifting as their feet got on autopilot, they began the trek.
 
Isaak Moon
Rec Cabin | Interactions: Open | Mentions: N/A
​
The next morning, Isaak's alarm went off promptly at five am. He allowed himself a groan and a moment to pillbug under the covers before reaching over and turning the alarm off. Then he did a good stretch like a cat--child's pose--and then moving into upward dog. Then he rolled out of bed and found his yoga mat leaning against the wall. He carried it out the main part of the rec room, where there was more room, and unrolled it with a sold whump noise against the wooden floor.

Isaak had been doing his morning routine so long that getting up and doing it was mostly automatic, and he usually didn't fully wake up until he was part of the way through it. Mountain pose to forward fold to downward dog, going slowly, intentionally. He was doing a warrior pose when he realized, that the way he'd positioned himself, the rising sun was to his right, and his shadow was on the wall to his left, and it was not following along.

Isaak froze mid-warrior pose. His shadow was sitting on the ground , silhouette positioned as if he were staring out the window at the lake. It seemed to realize that he was looking at it though, and scrambled to match the pose, though in a very wobbly way. Isaak frowned and moved into downward dog, and peeked to watch his shadow do a very half-assed imitation of the pose. He did child's pose next, and it sort of flopped into a sad imitation.

It was not part of his slow morning routine, but Isaak moved into tree pose next, lifting his bad leg to press against the inner thigh of his good leg, hands in front of his chest. His balance wasn't so good these days, but he could still hold tree pose for a while. His shadow could not and simply toppled over.

"Uh. You go on a bender I didn't know about, dude?" Isaak asked. He returned both feet to the ground. The shadow stood up and mimicked him.

"I thought my mental break would look a lot different than this," Isaak told it. He was too baffled to be upset. It wasn't like this was something he could go to a doctor about. What would he even say? I broke physics?

Isaak finished his routine, his shadow badly following along like a student who had been dragged to a beginner's class against its will, and then rolled up his mat and brought it back to his room. He thunked the mat back into place and went to change, but stopped halfway to the dresser when he noticed movement in a corner.

One of the little round creatures he'd seen the day before was lurking in a shadow, examining a double A battery that must have fallen out of Isaak's bag when he'd unpacked the night before.

"Good morning?" Isaak said to it. The creature jumped and scurried away through a little hole in the boards of the wall, taking the battery with it.

Isaak looked at his shadow, its outline a little fainter in his bedroom since there was no direct sunlight, and just the room light. It offered no opinion.

"Alright," he said, and pulled out a pair of cargo shorts to change into. "Who wants breakfast?"
 
Dakota Braaten
Location: The Cars (Outside the Cabins) | Interacting: Open!| Mentions: N/A
​
As could've been expected, Dakota didn't really sleep the night before.

He never slept well. Had never really liked sleeping in the first place, to be entirely honest. The idea of being knocked out for god-knows-how-long when things continued on without you was unappealing at best. One therapist had called it a 'fear', but he preferred to call it what it was: a rational concern. That said, he understood the need for it, to an extent. He had a job to do and that couldn't be done while sleep deprived. So, he had fully intended to take his medicine that night and clock out at an appropriate time, long enough to get his 8 hours (or as close to it as possible) before heading off to go about fixing whatever was wrong in the camp come morning.

He put it off, though. Obviously. Just because he understood the need didn't mean he was about to go running to tuck himself in as soon as night hit. Instead, he'd sat in on the bonfire they'd had for the campers, listening in on the old campfire story they were telling. He wasn't huge on ghosts- frankly, didn't think they existed -but kids being kids, he had a feeling they were going to either be scared shitless or try and find the thing. Both, maybe. He just hoped the security guards were actually going to take their jobs to heart and stop kids from jumping in the lake at 12 in the morning if it came to it.

After that, he'd wandered a bit. Checking the premises was the excuse he'd given himself, setting him up for another solid hour not spent going to bed. He'd checked the canoe area, the docks, some of the other recc locations, anywhere that could have things out of place. When he got back to his cabin, doing so had turned out to be a mistake, seeing as he'd found his door unlocked.

Nothing had looked out of place at first glance. Everything was right as he left it, something he knew because he had everything meticulously placed in order to be sure that he would know if things were moved. Logically, that could've meant he'd just left the door unlocked himself, except that was absolutely not something he would've done. Unlocked doors meant that anyone could go around and look through his things, or even stay in his cabin- his previous assessment of probably getting axe-murdered came to mind once more.

He'd spent another hours carefully creeping around his own space, looking at his things with suspicion to try and gauge if they'd even been so much as slightly moved. Second and third glances offered up nothing new. He'd begun to be lulled into a uneasy security, close to convincing himself that maybe he had accidentally left the door unlocked. Then, of course, he'd gone to find his meds where they were supposed to be- tucked into his bed so he'd have to move them before getting in, a good reminder they existed -and found an empty space.

So, yea. He hadn't slept. Which made getting up and finding the cars nonfunctional worse.

He didn't even know what had compelled him to check them in the first place. It wasn't as if he was planning to leave the premises anytime soon. Maybe it was the feeling that something was going on and he didn't like it, so he needed to make sure the only way to leave the woods was still working. He'd turned the keys and the engines had sputtered in both vehicles before dying completely, refusing to start. He'd spent a few minutes kicking at the dashboard and then retrying the key, as if the kicking would've magically made them start, before admitting defeat and coming to the conclusion that something was wrong with them.

In the end, he skipped breakfast. He got his tools and dragged them to the parked cars, any other plans for the day officially gone. If someone needed him, they would have to come find him. It wasn't as if he was hidden; they could stand to locate him if it was actually serious. God knew he was going to obsess over finishing the job until it was over and the vehicles were working again, which was looking to be the whole day, since he had the hood of his car up and couldn't find a single fucking thing wrong with it outwardly.

The night before, some kid had shared another campfire story other than the ghost one that one of the counselors told that had something to do with them not being allowed to leave the woods or something. Now, he liked kids just fine, but if he saw that particular one, he was going to punt them into the lake and let the drowned spirit lady take 'em. That was something he promised himself, fuming as he kicked at the front of his car in a moment of weary frustration.
 









Ambrose had decided to hang around the bonfire and listen in on the story that was being told; could you blame him for loving old, eerie, ghost tales? And as far as he is aware, no kids had tried to sneak out of the camp to go running about in the dark. And then it was time for Ambrose to get some sleep.

And when he woke up, he got dressed and didn't even bother with making his bed up. Classic Amby. Hmmm, what should he do today?

Ambrose favored a nice walk; it would be refreshing and peaceful. And that's how he ended up here at the lake. The security guard approached the lake, deciding to hang around here for a little while before turning back.

Hold on...

Are those... birds? Now Amby wouldn't have thought anything about the birds... if they weren't way out on the lake which should be impossible! "There's something you don't see every day." Amby laughed to himself, contemplating for a moment if it's worth checking out. The security guard pondered on it; he doesn't have anything else to do so might as well.

Is he really going to step foot into the lake just to look at some unusual birds? Yes. Yes, he is. A quick look and then it's out of the water for Ambrose. After a heavy breath, he took off his boots and stepped into the water.

Oh, he’s probably going to reek of lake water when he gets out, he knows it. But curiosity was currently tugging him further out so he could see the birds. Now obviously he’s not going to swim towards the birds, but he wanted to get where he could see what was up with them and why they’re so far out. He’ll just have to make sure that he doesn’t do anything that might scare the birds off.

Water sloshed around him as he made his way further, he wasn't sure how far he was going to go but he'll see soon enough. The water was refreshing though, Ambrose had to say that it’s like a nice dip in the lake. But certainly, Amby isn’t here for a little dip in the lake, he has an oddity to investigate! Good, good the birds are still there, no need to do anything that might startle them. Ah, what's he going to say to the others when he comes back with soaked clothes? He'll need to think of an excuse.

Wow, how far out is he? Ambrose turned around to look in the direction from where he had come from before turning to look at the birds. Is this far enough? The water sure is getting deep. No, it will be alright if he just gets a little closer. Just a bit further and then he’ll stop, that’s all. Ambrose waded in the water; gaze fixated on the birds.

And then he took another step forward.

It was like someone had taken the ground and had yanked it out from beneath him in a swift movement. With a plunge, Ambrose went under the surface. He's... underwater. Ambrose had waded too far into the lake and now here he is. His head turned to look around him, beneath him. Wait, what's that? A flicker of green light. It was quick though. Eh? That's strange, Ambrose wondered what it was or if he actually saw it. Never mind that, he's got to get to the surface!

When Ambrose had resurfaced, the birds had flown away and here he is trying to stay afloat and not go back under. He coughed, blinked his eyes, and he took in a deep breath. What was that thing he saw when he went under? It looked like a flash, or a flicker. Maybe some kind of fish? Totally a fish! Right, time to get back to shore before something clamps down around his ankle and drags him to the depths below. Oh, he's definitely going to reek of lake now, isn't he? Well, this is just great!

The guard looked around, half anticipating another flicker of light, and it didn't come. Amby shook his head and began to swim his way back to the shore. He was trying to be swift about it, he wanted to get out of the lake as fast as he could. Amby could be wrong but there might be something lurking below! And he didn't know what! But he didn't care if he was splashing water everywhere whilst trying to get back. He pulled himself out of the lake, panting heavily before he managed to catch his breath. He really did fall into the lake! Actually, more like plunged.

Ambrose was soaked from head to toe, and quite frankly he is still processing what had just happened. Let’s see he saw some birds, he went out onto the lake, he plunged underwater, saw something as he went under, and now he’s here sitting on the ground. That’s enough lake and swimming for today. What’s he going to do now? It might be best to get up and head back to camp… and to tell somebody about it.

What’s he going to say? Will anybody even believe him when he tells them what he saw? Wading birds farther out in the lake than normal. Or even farther out than even possible! In fact, who will believe him when he says he saw some kind of flicker underwater? Did he even see it? Oh boy, what a day this is turning out to be! For a while, the security guard sat there on the ground, hoping that his clothes would at least dry out a little. Wait he's still got to put his boots back on before he leaves.

With a small huff, Ambrose ran his fingers through damp hair, gaze fixated on the lake as if he were expecting something to happen. But nothing happened of course, figures. Ambrose rose up to his feet; no reason for him to stay here any longer. Amby will just… head back to camp now.







the security



ambrose.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 



chance.





































  • mood



    "what the fuck. what the fuck!?"
















"Goddamnit,"
Chance's curse echoed throughout the barren woods, bouncing across the trees for nothing but the local wildlife to hear. Fifteen minutes. He'd been standing here for fifteen minutes, and the most he'd gotten as a reward for his patience (and willpower to stay standing through every crack of a branch under a squirrel's feet or call of a bird, that could've just as easily been a person, oh God—)

You know what? Fuck cell service. Chance needed to get back to his cabin before a bear or whatever else resided out here got to him first.

His footsteps pad violently against the ground, and he laments the gradual loss of the pristine whiteness to his shoes. He'd been careful to avoid the muddier spots on his trek over to the rock, sure, but there was no way in Hell he was going to spend any extra time trying to get the fuck out of dodge as his panic slowly caught up to him.

Caught up to him. Fuck, fuck. Was there something behind him? He swears he heard the noises picking up, and that was not a fucking raccoon—

Chance's panicked sprinting found him tripping over a fallen tree branch, and he scrambled with heavy breath to turn himself around to see—

Nothing. Fucking nothing.

His sweater and his skirt, covered in grime and mud and God knows what else over what was a fucking badger, if anything. He grits his teeth and lifts himself up, looking down at the various scratches on his legs. Nothing he couldn't ignore beyond his complexion, except a larger scrape on his knee. He resolves he'll get it checked out later so he can change, as not to offer an explanation that would embarrass him.

"Oh, yeah. I just thought I was being chased down by Jason Voorhees's twin brother, who prefers newly-opened-formerly-abandoned campsites."

He scoffs, which quickly turns into a relieved sigh once he realizes he's at his cabin. The door is like his hail Mary—

Chance is sure his scream echoes throughout the camp.

An eye. A fucking eye. It's crudely carved, something that could easily be a prank one of the kids decided to pull on him, but the symbols beside it are all he focuses on next as opposed to any sense of rationality. Chance doesn't want to walk closer, but he forces himself to, trying to keep himself from getting stuck to his spot.

"Who— who..."
Chance's voice sounded like a weak imitation of what was supposed intimidation, overidden by how cracked and scared it was. His yell broke as it left his lips.
"Which one of you did this!? You're not fucking funny—"


As Chance turns to investigate his door closer, he sees a smear of something red and viscous.

Blood? Was that fucking blood?

He refuses to touch it, instead rounding the cabin towards the window. He sees something rush past it—

"What the Hell are you doing? Is this some kind of sick fucking joke—"


It vanishes.

It's just Chance.

Chance, and his frantic yelling for someone to get over here and tell him he's not going insane.

































somebody's watching me



rockwell










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
mood
❝ Well that's unsettling.❞

location
Room> Kitchen

interactions
Open

mentions
Dakota
Brett Watts

Brett sat around the fire that first night, listening along to the stories. He couldn't help letting out a little chuckle each time the kids managed to spook themselves. Though he was more focused on marshmallow duty to really take any of the tall tales in. Like yes, Samantha, it was rad how you scooped that marshmallow up so fast. But I do not know how to explain to you that for legal reasons I cannot let you eat that now, it was on the ground.

On the second day, Brett let out a sigh as his alarm went off at 6am. He laid there for a moment. He didn't get too much sleep, most of the night was tossing and turning between brief moments of slumber. It was expected, any new place had him restless for a few days. But it was nothing to wallow over so he hopped up out of bed. Did his usual routine, getting dressed, slap on some deodorant, brush teeth, run hands through hair. All good.

It was 6:15 by the time he wondered over to the kitchen. He was up a little earlier so he could get breakfast ready but walking into the room he felt something was off. Brett could've sworn he put everything away last night but there was still some stuff sitting out. Not only sitting out but already gone bad. He went around, picking up the scattered fruits, recoiling a little as he noticed the small bite marks. He piled it all onto the counter. A loaf of bread, few apples, orange, and tomatoes. He stared at them in annoyance. Great, second day and there's already a rodent problem. Though it didn't explain how they went bad so quickly, even with the bites, just being out over night shouldn't rot them. He tossed the ruined produce in the trash and wiped down the counter. Oh well, no crying over a few moldy apples. He made a mental note to bring it up to the groundskeeper to get some traps or something. Hopefully something humane...

Brett was about to continued on with breakfast when he just about tripped on the next moldy thing. But this one made him pause for considerably longer. A half eaten stake sat on the floor near the trash can. Whatever got to it was certainly bigger than a mouse or rat. He looked over both his shoulders, as if whatever left it there would suddenly jump out at him, but besides the hum of the fridge it was silent. He quickly tossed it into the trash and finished making breakfast, though considerably faster now. If there was an animal getting into the kitchen at night that was definitely a safety issue. To take bites like that it had to be at least like...dog sized right? Coyote? Are there Coyotes in Maine? Brett was also confused by how he hadn't heard anything. His room wasn't that far off from the kitchen after all. He tried to push it out of his head while he finished up. It wasn't urgent enough to put off everything and people needed to eat.
.
coded by reveriee

Brett Watts​
Mood: "Well that's unsettling."
Location: Room > Kitchen
Interactions: Open
Mentions: Dakota

Brett sat around the fire that first night, listening along to the stories. He couldn't help letting out a little chuckle each time the kids managed to spook themselves. Though he was more focused on marshmallow duty to really take any of the tall tales in. Like yes, Samantha, it was rad how you scooped that marshmallow up so fast. But I do not know how to explain to you that for legal reasons I cannot let you eat that now, it was on the ground.

On the second day, Brett let out a sigh as his alarm went off at 6am. He laid there for a moment. He didn't get too much sleep, most of the night was tossing and turning between brief moments of slumber. It was expected, any new place had him restless for a few days. But it was nothing to wallow over so he hopped up out of bed. Did his usual routine, get dressed, slap on some deodorant, brush teeth, run hands through hair. All good.

It was 6:15 by the time he wondered over to the kitchen. He was up a little earlier so he could get breakfast ready but walking into the room he felt something was off. Brett could've sworn he put everything away last night but there was still some stuff sitting out. Not only sitting out but already gone bad. He went around, picking up the scattered fruits, recoiling a little as he noticed the small bite marks. He piled it all onto the counter. A loaf of bread, few apples, orange, and tomatoes. He stared at them in annoyance. Great, second day and there's already a rodent problem. Though it didn't explain how they went bad so quickly, even with the bites, just being out over night shouldn't rot them. He tossed the ruined produce in the trash and wiped down the counter. Oh well, no crying over a few moldy apples. He made a mental note to bring it up to the groundskeeper to get some traps or something. Hopefully something humane...

Brett was about to continued on with breakfast when he just about tripped on the next moldy thing. But this one made him pause for considerably longer. A half eaten stake sat on the floor near the trash can. Whatever got to it was certainly bigger than a mouse or rat. He looked over both his shoulders, as if whatever left it there would suddenly jump out at him, but besides the hum of the fridge it was silent. He quickly tossed it into the trash and finished making breakfast, though considerably faster now. If there was an animal getting into the kitchen at night that was definitely a safety issue. To take bites like that it had to be at least like...dog sized right? Coyote? Are there Coyotes in Maine? Brett was also confused by how he hadn't heard anything. His room wasn't that far off from the kitchen after all. He tried to push it out of his head while he finished up. It wasn't urgent enough to put off everything and people needed to eat.
 
Magnolia Hedrow
Location: Arts Cabin -> Medical Cabin | Interacting: Darling Paget | Mentions: Chance, Dakota, Security Staff
​
Maggie hadn’t had a bad first night at the camp necessarily, but she hadn’t had a good one either. Night was, first off, not something she was terribly fond of in the first place. Sure there were campfires and stargazing and s’mores and all of those fun classic camp activities, but those all involved more people, people who were nearby and also participating in the same activities (though you’d be hard pressed to get her stargazing at this point). Being with people in the dark was one thing, but being alone in the dark was something completely different.

Maggie shuddered at just that thought as they gently hurried some straggling campers out of the art cabin to rejoin their group. Being alone in the dark was frankly terrifying, and she honestly didn’t know why more people weren’t worried about it. What if some monster came at you out of the shadows when you couldn’t see and erased you from existence? No thank you, she’d much rather stay where there’s light.

They glanced back into the cabin to survey the remaining mess (some paper scraps, a couple markers, two glue sticks and a pair of scissors). Satisfied it was clean enough to leave untouched and unattended for the moment, Maggie exited the cabin themselves and started to make their way through camp towards the Medical cabin, sneaking a glance at the lake as they passed.

It had been a strange awakening hearing Darling calling some campers down to the lake in the middle of the night. Once it had registered in her mind that this was in fact a strange occurrence to be happening in the early hours of the morning, Maggie rolled out of bed, and grabbed her camp lantern which was the brightest she could find, of course. She stood at the doorjamb of her cabin contemplating the string of events that had led to her presence at this moment for at least 30 seconds, and then finally decided to dive into the darkness outside her doorstep.

The three kids and zero medical supervisors she had found by the lake shore had all been fine as far as she could tell, albeit a little tired (but who wouldn’t be, it’s the middle of the night). From talking with them, all Maggie learned is that they had all heard Darling call them out to the lake, and that they were all from Chance’s cabin (and wasn’t that a conversation she wanted to have with the kid). And so she got them some water, ushered them back to their cabin and told them to wake up their counselor if something like this happened again. And on a final, quick pass by the lake on the way back to the safety (and light) of her own cabin, she nearly missed the scrap of fabric lying on the shore. It was old and dirty, kind of yellow, and looked like it was from an old uniform.


That ended up coming back with her to the cabin too. And so Maggie had ended her early morning expedition (one she was so brave for going on) with a list of people to have conversations with the following day: Darling, Chance, the security guards, and possibly Dakota if she had time. And that led them to here, to check off the first name on that list.

”Knock Knock.” Maggie rapped their knuckles against the doorframe of the slightly ajar entrance to the medical cabin, hoping that the supervisor was in. “Do you have a second Darling? It’s Magnolia, uh, I’ve got a bit of a weird question for you.”
 
Darling Paget
Location: Medical Cabin | Interacting: Magnolia Hedrow | Mentions: Dakota Braaten​

Darling woke suddenly, as if bidden by some nonexistent alarm, immediately aware it was later than it should be. They’d even tried to go to bed early the night before, heading back to their cabin after just half an hour of sitting in on the ghost stories, specifically to avoid sleeping in past—They reached for their phone to check just how much of the day they’d missed and found nothing. She sat up quickly, a bleary frown forming on her face. She knew she’d fallen asleep staring at its screen; that was almost a given.
Casting their gaze around at the room, their concern grew. They hadn’t finished unpacking yesterday, planning to live at least partially out of their luggage for the duration after realizing they had maybe overestimated the cabin’s storage space. She certainly hadn’t gotten out all of the things she now saw scattered about the room. Clothes he’d had no reason to wear yet were draped loosely over the chair and end of the bed; one of his mugs placed upside-down as if to keep dust from getting in and the other lying on its side next to it; a book facedown on the floor.
She opened her mouth to mutter something profane and only managed a dry “Whgh.” Absent any congestion or need to cough, it felt like nothing so much as having shouted for an hour or talked for more. One dang thing at a time, Darling, they thought, and shoved the sudden terrifying litany of doubts about their own memory aside before getting up to start sifting through their things for their phone. Their foot touched something wet.
They closed their eyes. One. One at a time. One—They opened their eyes and let their gaze trace a series of watery footprints across the floor to and from the open front door. The faint fog of fear settled more firmly over their mind, and they started to dig through their things in earnest, all the while attempting to mentally take stock. They weren’t hurt, first and foremost. If they’d blacked out before whatever happened to trash their throat, they were at least otherwise physically unscathed.
So what now? Ask for help. Dakota. They paused. The lock wasn't broken, despite the few new scrapes elsewhere on the door. There was, as far as Darling knew, a 50/50 chance that she had unlocked it herself or that Dakota had. On the other hand, if Dakota was messing with them, it wasn’t like they had anything to lose by telling him about it; no care had been taken to conceal… whatever was going on here. If he wasn’t involved, then they wanted him involved as soon as possible, maybe with a new deadbolt on hand. Unless she’d just left it unlocked by accident, or picked up twin habits of sleepwalking and sleeptalking (with wild abandon)... but someone else had definitely been in here—the footprints were undeniably smaller than her own—and hadn’t, it seemed, stolen anything. A wild scenario started to form in his head, some of the kids screwing around at the lake, someone getting hurt and coming to try and find help but being afraid to wake him up, and a slightly insensate wave of guilt washed over him before a knock and a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
They stood up quickly and stepped through out of the bedroom to the main space. “Magnolia! Uh, yes, I’m—I’m here—ugh—” They stepped in one of the wet footprints and stood on the other foot to shake the water off reflexively. “You can just…” They reached the door and pulled it open the rest of the way, trying to smile brightly. There might’ve been no concealing the fact that she’d just woken up, still in pajama shorts and a camisole with her hair flattened on one side of her head, but she could at least try to make it seem purposeful, even with the extra crack in her voice. “... come in. No question too weird!”
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 3 (members: 0, guests: 3)

Similar threads

Shroomie
Fandom Hexed into Hijinks! (Multifandom RP) {IC}
2 adventure fantasy ic
Replies
25
Views
894
Acethekidd
Acethekidd
strawberryspiral
Fantasy Murder in the City of Devils- IC
fantasy magic modern
Replies
12
Views
315
joestar
joestar
Twice Knightly
Fandom Gotham By Midnight
2 3 canon characters closed rp crossover
Replies
58
Views
1K
BarrenThin2
BarrenThin2
noxrequiem
Fantasy 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒲𝐼𝒞𝒦𝐸𝒟 𝒲𝐸𝒮𝒯
closed horror supernatural
Replies
19
Views
831
idiot
idiot
Morgaine Kri Chya
Futuristic Another Harry's Bar [ Walk-in | Always Open ]
2 multiple characters multiple genres mystery
Replies
34
Views
694
phibglib
phibglib
Back
Top