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Fandom Qᴜᴀʀʀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴅᴀᴡɴ, 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧. [IC]








  • rowan




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    Rowan shrugged at Riley’s response to switching cabins.
    “Well, can’t say I didn’t try,”
    he smiled over at Marquis and gave him a slightly apologetic look during Riley’s good luck wishes. Rowan didn’t try to get into fights with people at camp. He really, really didn’t. There was just so much history here with almost everyone, not all of it good, and his emotions just bubbled up so quickly. He tried to stop it, but it was like putting a cork in Old Faithful — pointless and ultimately, just as explosive.

    At Riley’s suggestion, Rowan nodded and stood in the row behind her, motioning her on ahead,
    “Lead the way.”
    He was thankful for the reprieve, already feeling several of the other counselors’ eyes on him, probably just as baffled as he was about some of them that he’d returned. He didn’t blame them, if he’d made the decision a couple months ago he wouldn’t have come back, but he couldn’t help but think about camp as a way to be as close to Paige as he could. Maybe he could even find some kind of information to bring him peace. Or find out what happened to her.

    Rowan followed Riley and Marquis out of the amphitheater and paused at the top of the bleachers, something catching his eye on the ground. He let Riley and Marquis get a few steps ahead of him as he walked over to it and examined it closer. A piece of paper? As he got closer, the shape and manila color made it clear what it was — a folder, dirty and a little crumpled, but he reached for it. At the top, it was labeled Personal Documents and Rowan wondered if this belonged to a camper…

    As he opened it, he noticed several pieces of papers and the name “Paige Evergreen” and he snapped the folder closed, looking around to see if anyone was looking at him… As he turned around to close the distance between himself and his friends, he almost ran smack dab into Morgan and Thomas walking in the opposite direction.
    “Shit… sorry,”
    he said, patting Morgan awkwardly on the shoulder and barely paying either of them much mind as he dodged out of their way and ran to catch up to Riley.

    He caught up as they reached the village and rolled his eyes at Riley’s comment about their cabin being messy.

    “We haven’t even unpacked yet, god, give us some credit,”
    he teased her as she entered and flopped herself onto his bed. He clutched the folder nervously, unsure whether to say something or go ahead and crack it open and share the contents with his friends, or if he wanted to keep it a secret… he didn’t even know what it all said, but he knew how the rumor mill at this camp worked and he hadn’t wanted anyone to catch a glimpse of it over his shoulder. Before he could decide, Riley spoke up.

    What’s that?


    He looked at what she was talking about, not truly understanding until she walked over and held up a metal rod with a pointy end. A poker stick?

    Huh. Interesting. He remembered not so long ago, before they started removing the poker sticks, and how he as a camper had swiftly put an end to that by singeing the cabin he’d been staying in…

    Marquis interrupted his thoughts by telling him to close his eyes.
    “Wow, you say that like you don’t trust me or something.”


    But he complied and turned around as Marquis hid the poker. Instead of closing his eyes, he examined the folder, opening it up a little more bravely than he had before. As he flipped through the pages, he mostly saw black sharpie marks and torn papers from “Healing Horizons,” “Crescent Moon Rehab,” and more rehabilitation centers in the surrounding area, as well as an envelope addressed to Paige that was empty. And on the bottom was a note that said, Stop her or you’ll pay the price.

    Rowan’s heart sunk and he bit his lip, trying to put together a puzzle he only had a couple of pieces to. What did this mean? Should he trust them with this? Well, why wouldn’t he… Riley was his best friend after all.

    With Marquis’ permission, he turned back to them and sat on the bed, presenting the folder for them to see.
    “You guys… what does this mean?”






    ♡coded by uxie♡

 
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!EVENT

Wyll Wyll CONGRATULATIONS!
You've received a random Danger Totem.

IN THE BACK: Liberty gives JC a cold look, before turning on her heel and leaving him behind. ​
 






leon




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noah kahan



the view between villages








"How are you holding up with the new, uh—job?"

Leon swallows thickly, rolling her blonde strands between his fingers absently — an impossible question to answer. Before, he was Supervisor in everything but title what with Renee's constant need to focus her attention on others' drama. He remembers how Paige cornered him the day before it all went pear-shaped, how her hands grabbed at his shoulders with a strength he couldn't fathom she possessed and bored her frantic eyes into his own. You should be Supervisor. I'll talk to my dad.'

He's about to formulate a rehearsed response when Juliette suddenly shifts away, back on the balls of her feet and her blonde strands slips free of his fingertips. Her hands spring to her hair, combing through the straightened locks."J-Just felt like a change was needed, that's all."

If Leon were a dog, his head would've tilted ninety-degrees. It wasn't like Juliette to act so skittish — certainly not over hair. What's with her?

"Hey man." Josephine momentarily distracts him from the strangeness of Juliette and he shifts his eyes to her, slipping into an easy-going smile. "Good to see you again... sucks you're not gonna be out boating with the rest of us, but it's good to see you're uh... moving on up and all."

Her face drops and Leon attempts to decipher the shift in mood. Was it because he isn't one of them anymore? He's replacing Renee, so he ought to be as oppressive as she in his presence. He looks between Josephine and Juliette, shoving a hand into his back pocket and running the other through his lopsided hair, the mud brown locks lifting from his eyes for the moment; enough for him to see clearly. They're both uneasy, it's gotta be me.

Leon has half a mind to excuse himself and dwell on the past, on what Paige told him but chews on his lip, listening to the exchange between Ricky and Josephine, his eyes ever so often drifting from them, to Juliette, to the campers tripping up the wooden bleaches — when Alton waltzes over. "Wow. I guess you didn’t want the absence of Renee to be felt at camp, so you decided to cosplay as her. I hate to say it, but you’re not as big a bitch as she was. Good effort, though.”

Leon pulls a face, his mask slipping ever so slightly into disappointment. "Come on, man. Haven't you said enough?"

Not missing a beat once Josephine fled the encounter, Juliette finally speaks up and grabs onto Leon's hand, dragging them both out of the amphitheater. "Can you believe he's back after the drama he caused before?"

"No, actually. I can't. I'm surprised about you, too." Leon glances down at where Juliette clutches his hand, pulling him purposefully towards the Dining Hall. A small quirk makes it to his lips as he considers something he hadn't by her new appearance — she's coping, in her own way. Missing Renee, dyeing her hair blonde... perhaps it helped her feel closer to her, that the bond no matter how twisted still existed. Positive about his assumption, Leon flexes his fingers from her grasp to capture her own, holding onto her hand casually. "I'm glad, though. That you, uh— that you came back."

He slows his strides, pulling Juliette into step with him. Her antsy mood from Alton, from before? She needed to slow down. Leaning over her shoulder with his lanky build, he points out one of the campers on the patio, whispering in another campers ear. "And so it begins— the gossip. Remember the rules, if you ever overhear something juicy... you can only say it at the Sunspot. Or..." Leon tugs at her hand, pulling her in front of him just enough to grab both of her wrists in a fake-arrest. "Punishment is as follows: no games, no alcohol, no fun. You hear me, Yorkes?" He's chuckling through his words, only to immediately release her — the last time he saw her was when she was getting lowered into a police cruiser, in cuffs. Oh, fuck. Surely that's a touchy subject. "Sorry— fuck, I didn't think.... Sorry. I know that must have been, uh. Rough."

Slipped into that one, huh. Leon gives her a tight apologetic smile, not quite reaching his eyes. He was never known for his tact, although he never had reason to say something stupid to begin with. Not something he couldn't easily laugh off with a half-hearted shrug, a smug smile or a pun.

He gently takes her hand again, leading her to the Dining Hall. "Let's go get dinner started before everyone starves, yeah?" He speaks under his breath, guiding them up to steps and inside. Leon takes a second to blink, adjusting to the dim lightning compared to outside and spots Mona at the kitchen sink, struggling with the faucet. There's a book peeking out of her back pocket, one that distinctly looks like a campers' journal— He nudges Juliette, nodding towards the book.

Only for his suspicions to drop the moment he sees the sink overflowing. Oh shit—

"Ramona! Need some help?" He drops Juliette's hand to rush over, grabbing a tea-towel from the counter on his way and swiping at the spilling liquid on the cupboard drawers. "Jesus. What happened?"





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((Note: Thoughts will be crimson and italicized while speech will be crimson and bolded.))​

Thomas posts.jpg

The Entertainer

Thomas
Mode

Thomas looked down, satisfied at his find. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd do with it but a shovel was never not useful, so he'd keep little Vel. Not seconds after it was named and cleaned, Morgan was asking for Vel and Thomas couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. Thankfully, he hadn't yet grown too attached to Vel and so was willing to hand it over to Morgan. He didn't pay much attention to Morgan or what he was digging up. Rather, his eyes were fixed on the water. He always wondered why they weren't allowed in after dark.

When Morgan was done with the shovel, Thomas grabbed it back and bent down to rinse the shovel with the water once more. This time, since the dirt was fresh and not that much, he squatted down by the water and used his hands to splash water on the shovel and wipe it down. Even as he did so, he had this feeling in his gut that what he was doing probably wasn't the smartest decision he'd ever made. However, there was nothing innately off-putting about the water other than what could only be described as a gut feeling.

Deciding to brush it off, he stood up once he was done rinsing the shovel and waved it in the air to let it dry off. When he looked back, he saw Morgan holding something - likely whatever he had dug out with the shovel. It looked like one of those totems from those movies. It did briefly cross his mind as to what that was doing here. It seemed...out of place. And for some reason, Morgan seemed so entirely transfixed on it. It was just like what happened with the paper they had found in the amphitheater earlier. He really did have a penchant for picking up stray items. It almost looked like he was conducting his own investigations.

I want to respect it but, a year later? What could you hope to find that hasn't already been found or lost?

Thomas wasn't enough of a sour person to tell Morgan that he was probably wasting his time - he figured that Morgan was searching for some sort of closure and Thomas had enough humanity in him to allow Morgan try and find it. He slowly made his way over toward Morgan, shovel swung casually over his shoulder and it sat to right in his grasp as if it belonged there. He looked down at the totem, even bending over a little to inspect it while it was in Morgan's hands. He tilted his head as his gaze ran over all the intricacies of the totem. "Huh, cool. Wonder why someone would leave that here." He stood up and thought for a second before adding, almost as an afterthought, "Actually, might wanna be careful touching those. People say they have bad juju." He wiggled his fingers as his best visual representation of "juju" but his actions also gave away that he didn't fully subscribe to such beliefs.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Morgan asked him about getting feelings and the best he could do was raise a brow. "Like a gut feeling?" he questioned. He looked back over at the water and shrugged. "I guess? Was just down by the water and felt all weirded out when I dipped my hand in. Typically don't act on them, though. Can't say my but is the best in the world." He did some counting in his mind and visualized by using his fingers. "Hmm. Maybe a good 35-65 right-wrong ratio? Do with that what you will," he said with a shrug.

He hadnt really dug too deep into the question as he figured that that's all it was - an innocent question. Plus, he didn't deal much with gut feelings or other feelings that he didn't have evidence for so he tended to brush them off as insignificant. He haf a good feeling that it was different for Morgan though, and he wasn't going to shoot the thought down completely. The irony of having a gut feeling about someone else's thoughts on gut feelings wasn't lost. The sollution to that was, thankfully not that difficult. "What about you" I get the feeling that u don't play games with your gut feelings."

His lips were curled into a smile and there was a hint of amusement in his tone, however, his demeanor revealed that it was a good-natured question rather than judgmental or condescending. After all, Thomas had no right to judge people for the methods others used to find closure. He was well aware that his weren't the healthiest either.

Mentions: Morgan ( Letho Letho )







((Note: Thoughts will be green and italicized while speech will be green and bolded.))​

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The Caretaker

Marquis
Solis

Marquis smiled, surprised that Rowan had actually turned around. If he were so agreeable with everyone else, perhaps he wouldn't get into that many fights. He looked around for what he wanted to do with the poker - he hadn't thought of that part before telling Rowan to turn around. He looked at Riley and shrugged. He didn't exactly want to risk one of the others finding it so he hid it under his pillow. He's hide it better under his bedding once the bed was actually made and he could hide it in his blanket or something.

However, as he lifted up the pillow, he noticed something already hidden there. It was wooden and in the shape of a large...pill? The markings on it were really detailed as well and, for some reason, looking at it made him feel weird. Was this a camper's toy from last year? No, these were counselor cabins. So one of the counselors? It looked really important and they'd probably spent all year looking for it. They'd probably appreciate having it back. He figured it wasn't that big of a deal now that he knew what it was but it did seem odd that somebody would leave something that seemed so important behind. He'd expect people to have been more careful about their things. However, in general "careful" isn't a word he'd use to describe this camp's counselors.

He gave another shrug and placed the poker down and the pillow on top of it. He figured a good start to cracking the mystery of this toy was to ask the two in the room with him. Between the three of them, they knew most of the counselors from the last year - so the chances that one of them would know who it belonged to was pretty decent. He finally picked it up and opened his mouth to ask them a question about it. However, suddenly, the world shifted and his stomach lurched. Where Riley once stood now stood Libby; where Rowan once stood now stood JC; where there were once smiles, there was now a cold, hostile look coming from Libby. He had rarely ever seen that look on her face and he couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand anything of what he was looking at. They weren't even in his room anymore.

For a second, it was like the whole world around him completely changed and then he was just...back. Libby and JC were gone; Riley and Rowan were back; he was back in his room; Rowan was saying something. Everybody was acting like the world didn't just glitch out for a second...was he the one that had glitched out?

"What in the fresh frozen hell was that?"

His words tumbled out with barely any clarity and with all the strength and ferocity of a whisper. It was as though words were still finding him after having to travel from whatever other world he had just been to. Slowly, he got his bearings back but there was a sinking feeling stirring within him - something was wrong. He was so distracted by the terrible feeling in his gut that when he finally heard Rowan asking for permission to turn around, all he could do was nod weakly.

When he heard Rowan ask his question, he had hoped that Rowan had also witnessed what he witnessed - maybe it was proof that he didn't just lose his mind. He looked up quickly and his heart sunk even quicker. Rowan hadn't come with validation - rather, he had come with his own brand of confusion. Marquis had to squint to look at what Rowan was showing, but when he finally saw it, it only caused his mind to do more flips that it already was. The world around him was spinning so quickly that he had to stand and steady himself on the bed.

He took a few seconds to compose himself, waving off any looks of concern that came his way and blaming it on vertigo. When he was finally okay enough to walk in a partially straight line, he made his way over to rowan and Riley, eyes scanning over the papers. "Were...were the Evergreens being threatened? Were Renee and Paige being targeted?" He looked at the paper again. No, it was addressed to Paige. So Paige was being threatened? Or Renaa was being threatened and Paige was in on it? It was too much for him to wrap his head around. He could only be sure of one thing. "So something messed up did happen to the sisters? We...have to tell somebody right? Mister Evergreen? Isla? Did they know?"

Mentions: Riley ( mi casa mi casa ), Rowan ( irregular-neptune irregular-neptune )

 



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The dish towels had been thrown uselessly to the counter beside Ramona as she fished around in the sink for her solution. It’d be fruitless to even dream of attempting to sop up the ever-growing puddle on the floor at her feet before pulling the plug. Even now, a little over elbow-deep in the basin, Mona could feel water sloshing over the edge with each movement she made despite the faucet being off, thoroughly dampening the front of her shorts.

If not for the firm grip she had on the rim of the sink, she would’ve slipped at the abrupt vocalisation of someone behind her.

Leon and…

Juliette.

Things had changed this summer. The tension settling over the camp like a dense fog was one thing, but this girl was something else entirely. Ramona was never typically one to buy into rumors—the hushed words whispered between snickers and judgmental glances flew in one ear and out the other in the off-chance she was close enough to hear—but at the sight of Juliette’s freshly-bleached hair, Mona couldn’t help but recall the idea thrown around in the years prior that she’d stolen some of Paige’s belongings. She’d always seemed to have a strange relationship with the sisters…did she want to be one of them?

Whatever the case, something surely wasn’t right about her.

Leon, on the other hand, was just as helpful as he’d ever been, lunging into action at the first sign of danger.

“I was washing carrots, and I—” The near slip-up wasn’t intentional but rather subconscious in nature—Ramona had always seen Leon as a sort of neutral party; he’d never given her a reason to be wary in his presence, and he had a trustworthy face that she accredited to his warm eyes—but Mona caught herself, gaze shifting momentarily to Juliette before continuing, “—got distracted. It’s impossible to find towels in this place. You should really think of organizing better.”

Did Juliette know about the journal? Furthermore, was she the one who’d hidden it to begin with?

A gurgle at the bottom of the sink announced that Ramona had finally fought her way past the carrots to the drain. A relieved sigh slipped out of her throat.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a couple of towels and crouching to join Leon. “Sorry. I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to start your first day as Supervisor.” Mona sent him an apologetic smile as she pressed the wad of cloths into the small pool of water. “Congrats on that, by the way.”

Was it right to commend his new job? Technically, he only had it because Renee was gone, but positions like that were hard to come by, and Ramona could respect whatever choice had been made to put Leon in the blonde’s old shoes.

Regardless, she was sure Juliette would find some way to twist her words and interpret them however she saw fitting.

The carrots clattered to the bottom of the metal basin as the last of the water drained out of the sink, and a moment later, Ramona stood, satisfied that the puddle had been reduced to little more than a bit of dampness against the floor. No sooner had she done so, she became painfully aware of just how wet her clothes were, tank top and thick denim clinging uncomfortably to her skin.

“I should go,” Mona announced, tossing her soggy rags into the bucket at her side, then extending her hand to take Leon’s towel to repeat the process. Gripping the bucket like she had on the way in, she turned to Juliette and said, “Careful. It’s still kinda slippery.” Yet, her tone was flat as she spoke, effectively showing her lack of genuine concern on the matter—the warning had been nothing but an act of what she’d deemed obligatory kindness—and she didn’t allow time for either of her current company to call her out on it, making a hasty exit.

Ramona paused in her pursuit of a dryer ensemble to drape the towels on the porch railing outside Cabin 2. The camp had no other means of doing laundry, save for taking advantage of the sun’s heat—at least it provided some sort of service for all the inconvenience it caused otherwise.

“Hello?” Mona called upon entering the cabin, but, like the kitchen, she found herself to be alone. She didn’t know where Riley was, and the others—well, she could do without their company for a while.

She’d already unpacked a large portion of her belongings, and after rifling through the drawers by her bed for a bit, she finally produced an acceptable replacement for what she already wore. It wasn’t until she started changing, though, that Ramona was reminded of what she’d stashed in her pocket.

The book tumbled suddenly to the ground, falling open on the floor behind her to the same page that’d caught her attention during her initial inspection of it.

What was the likelihood of that?

After slipping into a clean pair of shorts, Mona plopped on the edge of her mattress to examine the book once more. Wolves at Evergreen Camp? They weren’t a stranger to Oregon territory, but they typically steered clear of areas frequented by heavy human traffic. What business did they have coming this close? Were they still something to be taken into consideration? Maybe they should ease off on the hikes this year…

Somehow more peculiar than the data recorded, however, was the handwriting. As sloppy as it was, something about it was familiar, too, but it was a faded memory, something her mind had told her long ago she had no use for and had thus shoved into a shadowy recess to collect dust—no doubt, it’d been replaced by things such as which plants were too poisonous to eat and the lyrics to every song on the latest Sublime album.

Was it even important? It was just a nature journal, after all.

Whatever.

Ramona rose, sliding the diary to the rear of her still-open drawer—similarly to how she’d discovered it—before finishing her wardrobe change and heading outside again.

The garden wasn’t going to prep itself, even if her mind was roiling with one unanswered question after another in the process.

































nocturnal me



echo & the bunnymen










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Cool was one word to describe the... Totem. And the entire experience related to it. Judging by Thomas' general behaviour, he wasn't seeing anything supernatural about it - and Morgan even allowed himself a glance at his face as he looked, just to check where his gaze focused... If it was drawn to the dark, empty space within the item as well.

But... No. No, it didn't seem to be - and perhaps that wasn't so unusual. In Morgan's experience, people often missed or just actively didn't wish to notice the things that he sensed or connected. Sometimes he felt almost as if most human minds just had those... Built-in defences against sights that could shake their entire worldviews...

Unrelated, perhaps he could bring up Call of Cthulhu as another - D&D-adjacent - option to Alton.

... Then again, after last year, maybe not.

Right there and then, however, what interested him much more was that Thomas, of all people, had decided to warn him against bad juju. That thought was more than enough for the corners of Morgan's lips to twitch a bit in amusement - but at the same time he did let out a quiet, vaguely agreeable hum, mercifully choosing not to tease the guy.

Bad juju was sort of Morgan's usual business, after all, but he sincerely appreciated the concern - and the fact that Thomas even believed in it enough to say something... Funny gestures aside, of course.

And so he asked Thomas his question, curious about what really he was working with there... And he watched, tilting his head slightly to the side, as his companion explained his stance... At first confirming - with yet another hum - that, yes, he was talking about something like a gut feeling.

More or less.

It was... Actually not a bad way for him to describe it to others in the future, as he was sure he would need to. It certainly sounded more - well - socially acceptable, as far as he could tell. Mm, yes, he would be borrowing that one...

... Oh?

The water...

Yes, that wasn't surprising at all. Water held memories, and held them well... And this lake in particular seemed like it had a lot of history. Regardless of what may or may not have happened last year - of the theories related to this spot in particular... Morgan wouldn't have been surprised at all to hear that people had lost their lives here before.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

As he listened, his gaze slowly slid away from Thomas - focusing on the lake in question instead. He wondered... But it must have been thoroughly searched, if not by the police, then by private divers, nets, poles, perhaps even sonars. Mister Evergreen certainly had the funds for that, and Morgan couldn't imagine him not doing absolutely everything in his power to get to the... Well. To the bottom of it, no pun intended. Hells, he was sure that the man's friends - including Morgan's own father who had genuinely liked the sisters - would have probably helped, had it been necessary.

And yet...

"Fair," he simply said at first, keeping to himself the thought that thirty-five to sixty-five, while surprisingly specific, wasn't even that bad of a ratio f0r a reg8par . At least it showed that Thomas had some survival instincts... And Morgan was glad to learn that.

A moment of silence fell between them then - as he tried to figure out how to explain his gut feeling in an at least vaguely believable way. Was this... Was this even that important? Oh, but the camera was clearly important - and if he could get more people to look for it, that could only help...

... Well, and since Thomas asked.

"No, I really don't," Morgan admitted easily, looking away from the lake once more - and back towards his companion. Thomas did seem to mostly be... Joking. Teasing. And that was all right. It was definitely better than mocking, and while Morgan had learnt a long time ago not to be bothered by that, he still preferred friendly conversations - curiosity and amusement over this strange need that some people had to prove others stupid, naive, and wrong. "But mine are usually right. That... Affects one's perspective, I'm guessing."

And he did understand that. He couldn't blame anyone for having different experiences than he did - after all, he was the outlier there, not everybody else. He was perfectly fine with that, really...

He just wished it didn't make his self-appointed mission so much harder.

"Either way - I asked because I just remembered I needed to catch Juliette about something that I had been thinking about. I wonder if she's by the cabins or... Elsewhere... But I suppose that's a good first spot to check once we head back?" And as he said that, Morgan's gaze slowly moved along the shovel in Thomas' hands, his expression turning rather thoughtful. "Besides, since you are taking Vel along, I assume you might want to... Put him somewhere around there? Not that I'm saying we need to go right now, of course."

He really wasn't; his tone, his expression, his body language weren't exactly pointing towards being in a rush... Especially since he could tell how strange it would have been for him to immediately try to question Juliette. Perhaps he should even leave that for tomorrow...

But that felt strangely wrong - especially after that vision.

And so, for the time being, Morgan looked down again - at the totem in his hand. Oh, he was bringing that with him... And he supposed one of the perks of being seen as the weird one either way meant that nobody should even bat an eye on this new addition among his belongings.

... He did need to clean it a bit first, though - and since it was already wet, he simply began to carefully wipe it and the smears of dirt away to the best of his ability. He would do a more thorough job later.

***

Wyll Wyll
 
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To no one’s surprise, “Jennifer” sprinted out of the conversation faster than a deer hearing a hunter fart. That shouldn’t have surprised him. She always seemed content to avoid confrontation; honestly, he didn’t have much to say to her. So, nothing lost, and nothing gained. Alt raised his brows at Juliette’s half-assed response. He figured she’d be more vitriolic, but Leon and Ricky were around. Maybe she was trying to put on a pretty face for the rest of the boys. He crossed his arms and shrugged as she walked away, hardly bothered. Leon followed her, shortly thereafter sniping at Alt.

”Haven’t you said enough?” Alt laughed out a “hardly.” Being polite and cordial to people had only ever gotten him in trouble. Smile, don’t cause a fuss, and swallow your emotions deep—deeper than that. Now, he had nothing else to lose. So, why keep it buried down? These people were keen on acting as if they were always the victims of crimes that didn’t even involve them.

Ricky squirmed in the tension and pushed his attention to the nearest human being who wasn’t Alt. He rolled his eyes. “Not even a ‘fuck off.’ You’re as sharp as a butter knife, Rick.” He let out a dry laugh. “Alright, bud, I’ll excuse myself then. I got important shit to do. You work on cycling between talking and breathing with your one brain cell.” He winked and walked away.

Alt made his way towards the medbay. He waved back at a few of the campers who remembered and waved at him. They then ran off to do whatever was assigned next. At least the excitement of the kids hadn’t changed. For as much anger that dwelled in the pit of his stomach, none of it was given to the kids who attended the summer camp. They were just bystanders, barely aware of the great Machiavellian drama around them.

He tapped his boots outside the door before he walked into the med bay, dislodging any chunks of dirt that may have gotten wedged in the thick tread of the Timberlands he was wearing. When he entered, cool air hit his face. The wooden structure smelled of pinesol and rubbing alcohol, a very stringent smell that hit his nostrils, but he didn’t find it unpleasant. If life had done what it was supposed to, he would be across the sea in medical school. This would be the smell that he’d wake up to every day. So, it felt both nostalgic and painful. His fingers rubbed his chest through the plaid shirt he was wearing. Hooks were embedded deep within him, tearing at the uncomfortable tissue inside. That was a keen reminder as to why he was here. Alt set down his bags and rummaged around until he pulled out a waterproof pouch with the aid symbol and a card on the outside stating what was in there. You know, in case of an emergency.

Alt unzipped the pouch and pulled the contents out. He sat them on the table as he tried to remember where the medicine cabinet key was hidden. After a few minutes, he found it in its usual spot, inside a hollowed-out piece of wood on the underside of the hanging cabinets. He unlocked the cabinet and went to slide his prescriptions in there, only to notice that they were an absolute jumble. Whoever had been checking them in previously had rammed them with little care for ease of use. Alt exhaled. “Just let it be. This is a summer camp, not a hospital. These are all probably allergy prescriptions, anyway. Nothing immediate.” He went to ram his in there, as well, a handful of amber bottles to join the others. He stepped away, exhaling as he did so. “Don’t—”

Thirty minutes later, he was quite happy with the cabinet's organization. He’d put them in order by last name, with emergency medications in front. He’d even found some red stickers to label the top of them for ease of use. Alt had also organized the counselor’s medications as well, but only by the last name. While he didn’t like people, that didn’t mean he would snoop on their medical history. It was unfortunate because there wasn’t much room. Someone had rammed a bunch of pharmaceutical equipment in there as well. Alt didn’t imagine that they would be compounding drugs at a summer camp , and so he wondered why it was in there to begin with. Maybe it came with the cabin. Or maybe someone had upsold them on medical supplies. Not a single person here was a pharmacist. So, no one of them would need any of this. Alt wanted to let it be, but he couldn’t.

He pulled out a scale, some fillable gel capsules, a grinder, and an amber-colored glass container with cotton balls. He didn’t want to know how old they were. When he set the glass container down, though, he noticed it rattled. Infinitely curious, he pulled up the metal lid and glanced at it to see a bottle of medication stashed away. “Come on, guys.” He picked it up to add it to the collection of others when the last name caught his eye EVERGREEN. He inhaled before reading the first name, RENEE. He half expected them to be diet pills or antibiotics or bitch pills. The latter made him chuckle as he thought about it. But that’s when he read the label. “HALOPERIDOL” That immediately sent alarm bells off in his head.

“Oh no,” was all he said. He couldn’t remember what that was for, and for the first time in a while he wished he had his medical schoolbooks. But it stayed burned in his mind because of what it implied. It would take a moment for him to remember, but at this moment, he needed to do something. He wouldn’t file it with the rest of the counselors. He’d flush the medication and cover the label with a permanent marker if there were toilets. He could just chunk it all in a plastic bag, fill it with water and throw it in the biohazard trash. Those were all the responsible things to do. Instead, Alt pulled a cotton ball out of the jar and pushed it into the pill bottle to keep it from rattling. He then tucked the bottle deep into his bag. He didn’t know why he did this. He had the information. It just felt like a good idea.

Alt locked back up the medicine cabinet, stowing the pharmaceutical equipment into an unused space, and hid the key again. He then glanced at himself in the mirror. His face was white from the information that rumbled and roiled through his brain like a petulant storm. Well, it was all white except for the rosy red burn scar that bisected it diagonally. Something that no one had commented on yet, either out of politeness, or out of the fact that they hadn’t realized anything had changed about him. He ran his fingers over it. It was slick to the touch, and he couldn’t feel his hand against his face—the nerve endings completely gone. Alt frowned. “The outside matches the inside now,” he grumped before turning away.

He grabbed his bags and left, heading to Cabin 1 to stow his things and then off to dinner. And considering what he’d heard from Julliette, probably off to eat some soup whose special ingredient was her spit.

 
JC looked at Birdie incredulously. “Causing a scene?” A moment of pin drop quiet passed before he scoffed. “Apologies. I didn’t think telling your boy toy off could be any worse than two dead counselors but fuck making a scene, right?” he grumbled, his voice low and bitter. Seriously, it was as if Birdie would sooner see him gone than actually do her job. What good would him disappearing do? Less shouting? Maybe. Less fun? Definitely. Less headache for her? No doubt… well, maybe. There was some unsettled business he needed to score now. Lou would have his head for it. BB too… but… JC shook his head. He was still standing in front of Birdie.

“Resigning would make you too happy. Think I’ll enjoy being your favorite prick for a while longer,” JC said dryly - not with any particular effort paid for digging into the girl. He knew his presence alone would suffice. He looked at Levi coldly for a second before letting the corners of his lips curl. He stifled a chuckle and shook his head before walking off. If nothing else, he was glad no one’s mentioned the broken nose and black eye. Saved him a report from Birdie no doubt. If a squirrel shit in her bed, she’d write him up. As JC strolled out, he panned the campgrounds before starting off towards the storage shed. He’s been fighting anyway. May as well hit the bag to pass the time.

anyasjoy anyasjoy lostbird lostbird
 



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The Entertainer

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Thomas wasn't surprised to hear that Morgan took his gut feelings more seriously than others. He was, however, impressed to hear that Morgan's gut was usually correct. That was good information to have, very good information to have,

"Ah, so you're like a 95-5 guy in terms of being correct then? Huh, I guess I'll have to keep you around, 95. Maybe you can stop me from getting Evergreened."

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could fully process what he was saying and as soon as they left his lips, he immediately wished he could rewind time and take the words back. Unfortunately, he did not have any such power. He had said the words and now he had to live with that.

It was something that happened enough times that he had gotten used to it - whenever he said something that crossed a line, even for him, he would always stand by it. After all, if he said it, it means at least a small part of himself believed the words to be true. Right now, he could only hope that Morgan chose to let the words lie and not press into them because he could see that conversation going very sour.

Perhaps Morgan could, instead, focus on the new nickname he'd gotten. "95" seemed like a fun enough nickname and both he and Morgan would be able to understand the context and who Thomas was speaking to. It was also a show of companionship - Thomas only giving nicknames to people he felt he was comfortable and safe with. Morgan had secured himself a spot on that list and so he got a nickname.

As Morgan continued, Thomas couldn't help but roll his eyes at the mention of Juliette. That one is a special case. She needs...a lot. What she needs is a lot. Prayer...a real job...possibly a good railing...a life...the list goes on and on and I'm not too inclined to continue thinking about her. He did, however, wonder what business Morgan had with her. Is she the one he has his eyes on? Mmm, no. Morgan has better brains than that. At least, I hope Morgan has better brains than that...I'm going to choose to believe that Morgan has better brains than that Then his gut must either be insane or genius or both to be pointing him towards Juliette.

Thomas, personally, would ignore anything that was pointing him towards someone like Juliette but if Morgan wanted to go find her, that was his funeral then. The least he could do was attend and send him off right.

Thomas looked up at the sky, finding the sun and then looked back down at Morgan. "Well, it's almost dinner time. If she's going to be anywhere, it's going to be probably getting food ready for the campers. So maybe check the dining hall? Somewhere around there? I'll lag behind. Thinking I'll use everyone going to the dining hall to sneak this back to my cabin instead of waiting until nightfall."

He considered it for a second longer - if she was busy getting food set for the campers, she likely would be too busy to talk to anybody and definitely would be more annoying than her usual self.

"Other option, wait until after dinner. There's always a little bit of time before people head back to their cabins, you could grab her then. She's likely to be less of a...hmm..." He took a while trying to find a nice way to put it. "...a Juliette? Yeah, she's likely to be less of a Juliette." Perhaps an insult in its own right, but, at least now, the meaning and depth of the insult was left up to personal interpretation. Who knows, maybe Morgan even liked Juliette enough that it might be a compliment.

He tried not to judge her too harshly. He of all people understood that different people grieved in different ways and the way you chose to grieve could be seen as problematic or even suspicious to somebody else. He was willing to give her at least that much grace. Still, he wouldn't actively choose to be around her. That was a testing of his patience he could do without.

He takes the shovel and swings it up, placing it on his shoulders and dangling his arms over it as he walks to a nearby tree. "If you do decide to go now and someone asks where I am. Tell them I'm probably off somewhere being Thomas. That should be enough of an answer for most people."

He chuckled lightly, knowing his own reputation amongst the counselors and maybe even some of the campers. It didn't bother him though. Rather, he chose not to let it bother him. Instead, if they were going to cast him out, he would simple take advantage of that. And now, if anybody got on his nerves, he had a shovel. Officer Sunshine would probably blow a gasket at the idea of Thomas walking around camp with a shovel and the thought of that made him laugh all the more.

Mentions: Morgan ( Letho Letho )

 
Ricky Sanford
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The unfamiliar girl smiled at him, looking him up and down. Ricky suddenly had the irrational fear he forgot to put on pants that morning before realizing that he was, in fact, fully clothed. Maybe she liked his jeans. At any rate, she gave him a smile in return, bubbly as a certain My Little Pony character (he had two younger sisters, of course he knew what My Little Pony was). "I was just asking if anyone around here was in Cabin Three before everyone dispersed," she responded, glancing around at where the other counselors had run off. Ricky followed her gaze for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I'm in Cabin One, but I can point you in the right direction if you want!" he offered, running a hand through his messy hair. He really should have done it half up today instead of letting the length be free. He did enjoy having longer hair though, as much as it made him look scruffy sometimes.

"That would be great!" the girl said, tension easing from her brow. She must be relieved that someone was willing to help, and Ricky was glad to be that person. "Maybe you should show me yourself?" The offer did seem fun; it would be nice to spend time with the new girl. She seemed like a fun person. But something tugged at the back of Ricky's mind. Right, he had to keep reminding himself, he'd lost a friendship bracelet from one of the campers during a particularly enthusiastic drum performance last year, and he had wanted to check near the drums on the stage. So, despite his excitement at the prospect of a new friend (and a very pretty one at that), he decided to just give her directions after all, telling how to find the cabin before waving her off and promising to meet up later to hang out.

As he headed in the direction of the stage, he belatedly realized she had probably been flirting with him. Oh well. He had plenty of time to flirt after he found the friendship bracelet. He had gotten a few such presents from campers over the years and he treasured them, even having a special drawer which he kept his prizes. It included the drawings his siblings had given him as kids (after they had their time on the fridge, of course). His siblings weren't back at camp this summer, though they had been in summers prior. By now, Lizzie and Joe had both graduated high school, and neither were as anxious to return as counselors as Ricky himself had been. And his parents had decided it was probably best for Jackie and Oliver not to return either, given the disappearances of the Evergreens. His parents weren't thrilled that Ricky was going, either, but he was old enough to make his own decisions, and besides, he was far more attached to Camp Evergreen than the rest of his family. At any rate, he reached the stage without having to push through many people, seeing how most people had left after the opening speech.

As he reached the drum set (he had affectionately thought of it as his drum set the past few years, seeing as few other people played it besides him, and certainly no one else played it with such enthusiasm), he noticed something on the stage which caught his attention. A whiteboard, discarded, was laying not too far from the drums. Huh. Well, he certainly hadn't put that there. Though part of him hesitated, wondering if it was even his business, he figured that anything left in the open like that probably wasn't too private. Besides, he was curious. And who knew if the friendship bracelet was underneath? He turned the whiteboard over, being disappointed but not surprised at the lack of bracelet, then decided to read the notes written there. It wasn't anything too exciting, no more than a list of complaints and comments about a previous performance. What really caught his gaze was something from Renee Evergreen herself--asking for a performance that didn't require late night howling. That seemed in character of her. She wasn't the sort to take much interest in what other people wanted, in Ricky's experience. But then again, he hadn't truly known her that well. He frowned, setting the whiteboard back before scanning the surrounding area. No friendship bracelet. Well, that was a bust. Oh well.

When he glanced out at the remaining counselors, he noticed most were either already deep in conversation or people he didn't particularly the urge to talk to at the moment. So, he decided to head out to the Lodge. It was where the arts and crafts room was, so maybe the friendship bracelet would be there as well. It didn't hurt to look, and Ricky had some time to kill before dinner. So he headed out, waving hello to campers who remembered him and giving them a cheerful smile. He would make sure they had a good summer, even if all of the counselors were miserable with their infighting. That would certainly be interesting, but hopefully grief would bring the group together instead of further apart. Yeah, and pigs would fly. Still, Ricky knew that some kindness (and free food) went a long way, so he hoped he could at least persuade them to lay down their arms on occasion. Maybe the counselors would truly bond this time around; he knew he'd done his share of bonding with most of the counselors there (and maybe he could befriend the rest this year).

He made his way across camp, entering the Lodge with a small exhale. It was almost odd, how despite the tragedy that had happened last year, things remained unchanged. The camp looked the same, smelled the same, even the damn breeze tasted the same. But despite it all, something was still broken that was unfixable. Ricky had never been deterred at thoughts like that before (though this thought was admittedly the most serious of those); he was the fixer. If the world was able to keep spinning after the disappearance, then Ricky would make damn sure everyone else was able to keep going too. That was why he was here, after all. Well, besides his selfish reason of wanting one last summer of nostalgia. He would have as good of a time as he could, and he would ensure that his friends were the same. He also didn't want them to think he was flake for being there for them throughout the year and then ditching them here, at the scene of the disappearance of the sisters itself. Especially since most of his friends were coming back this year despite it all, and he admired their bravery. Speaking of his friends, as he was about to head into the arts and crafts room, he heard voices coming from the lounge area that adjoined the front. He headed back, smiling as he recognized a few of his friends.

"Hi guys! What are you up to?" he asked, giving them a brilliant grin as the friendship bracelet was momentarily forgotten. Ricky wasn't the best at remembering things or keeping to one task, especially with his thoughts as heavy as they had been recently. The moment he saw his friends, he got excited like a puppy with a spoonful of peanut butter. He had missed them so much.
 
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"Not everyone has common sense... you included."

There was something about strong-willed women putting Levi in his place, and he absolutely loved it. It was probably why his relationship with Riley lasted as long as it did—whenever he stepped out of line, she would swiftly reel him back, reminding him that it was just the two of them. Levi grimaced at the thought, still not ready to fully process it. He remained confused and very much in the dark about the reasons for their split, though he had his suspicions. His eyes drifted to the spot where he last saw Riley's figure disappearing into the crowd. Her decision in the end cast a shadow over them both at camp, but especially over her. She wasn't his to worry about anymore, and he was fine that.

With that thought, Levi dragged his eyes away from the departing figure and met Liberty's gaze, just barely missing the smile she flashed in his direction. He couldn't help but admire her for a moment—the way she effortlessly commanded respect, never hesitating to keep him in check. Despite his rebellious nature, he appreciated her firm hand, finding a strange sense of comfort in knowing she wouldn't let him slip too far. But when he saw her smile falter, he instinctively pulled himself back, just as he had been taught. Had he overstepped somehow? Maybe it was his body language, or perhaps his expressions had revealed more than he intended—

"Hey, Birdie."

The fuck? Whenever JC was around it was easy for Levi to automatically tune the fuck out, but this— this interaction had his interest. He furrowed his brows as the other approached, completely ignoring him. "Listen, since you wanna start barking at me for picking up after others, let me get this out of the way now."

Levi took a moment to watch the interaction unfold before him, his eyes primarily focused on Libby's body language. And boy, she was not happy. The part of him—the smothered side filled with unstable emotions—desperately wanted to step in and speak his mind. "Just leave me alone. Ok?" But Levi knew he didn't need to defend her. He could see it in the way her jaw clenched, her arms crossed tightly in front of her, and the look of pure annoyance written all over her face.

And he watched her do what she did best—make JC look stupid. Only then did his mind begin to wander, thinking about whether tonight was still on with Leon and Thomas—their little Sunspot ritual where they could talk trash while drinking. In a responsible manner, of course. It wasn’t until Levi heard a stifled chuckle that snapped him out of his thoughts. Boy toy? JC shot him a cold glare before walking off, his nose looking worse for wear. Favorite prick? What? Levi hadn't expected to deal with a Renee replacement so soon, his luck apparently. "Sooo," he started, straightening up as his right hand rose to rub the back of his neck. "You and JC, huh?"

Liberty rolled her eyes, wrinkling her nose with a touch of disdain, her arms remaining firmly crossed. "He wishes—"

Levi cleared his throat, cutting her off. "Actually, I have to go." He awkwardly stepped past her, avoiding direct eye contact. "I need to head to the first cabin, make sure Leon doesn't steal my bed—or Thomas take my shit." he began walking backward, a smile in place, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. He raised a hand in a small, awkward wave. "I'll catch you at dinner tonight. It was nice seeing you, Lib." And with that, he turned on his heel and hurried off, his footsteps quickening as he put distance between them. He did a quick glance down to his wrist watch— and yup, scratch that, he'll check out the cabin after dinner. Showing up fashionably late for a second time today wouldn't do anyone good.





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"Oh." Clarisse seemed to have some form of dawning realization as she turned in the direction of the lake. "I have to go and do some inspections at the lake." She inclined her head slightly to both Connie and Billy, sending a more apologetic look to the latter, before beginning to move to the exit. It wouldn't be long until dinnertime— she needed to clear her head and fast. It wouldn't do anyone well for her to be distraught and have to deal with people she potentially could argue with. Just stay low.

It would do her well to check out some of the equipment and see if everything was up to regulations. She was sure that Miss Eva had already done it but one set of eyes could miss something crucial entirely. So she headed for the docks first and, upon seeing two figures ambling around at the lake and appearing to head back to the camp grounds, swerved to make a lot of space between them and her. She hoped that they didn't notice her. Morgan and Thomas? The former was fine, he was rather open about talking with her should she have any questions of the year before but Thomas? God, she needed more time before ever interacting with him. An unhealthy mix of guilt, anger, and impatience never helped anyone.

She crossed the docks slowly and took in the familiar scent of the lake. As dangerous as it was, Clarisse could never get enough of its view. There was serenity in its chaos for her; at least its unpredictability was constant throughout her entire life. Its calm and still waters betray its true deadly capabilities and only a small section of the lake was used for swimming lessons— even then, they had to be careful just in case the lake decided it would be hilarious to drag someone in. She wasn't very fond of swimming but it was nice to dip in every now and then when the situation called for it.

There were a couple of boats tied to the edge of the docks. Considering the weather wasn't all that bad, she guessed these were out for tomorrow's activities. Clarisse was about to walk away when she noticed something stuck in one of the kayaks. Curiously, she carefully descended onto the kayak, holding firmly on the support of the dock as it moved due to the sudden weight difference. Once everything was stable, she picked up a folded piece of paper. It must have been something one of the counselors forgot? Or maybe even Miss Eva or whoever set up the kayaks. Best to get it back to whoever owned it instead of having it get blown by the wind or something. She climbed back onto the docks and opened the paper. It talked about the development of the lake for tourism... at the cost of driving some tribes further into the woods. Clarisse hummed. She hadn't really looked into the whole history of Fairview Lake or the Evergreen Camp. She just knew it existed since she was a kid.

Clarisse looked across the lake and into what was considered not part of the camp grounds. Lou and his family had property there; so these alleged tribes must be even further out. In the times she snuck out with them, she hadn't even noticed any signs of tribal life. Though she imagined the contractors made sure that the tribes would never find themselves anywhere near the vicinity of the camp. Bad for business, or something like that. Then, her mind wandered into other things. Renee talked about something out there stalking her and leaving threatening notes. Something that she believed wasn't normal. And, well, forgive her for her ignorance, but she was pretty sure tribes dealt with supernatural things right? All witches and taboo or whatever.

It was so stupid to think about but, at this point, Clarisse was going to explore all avenues. If anyone knew about this, it had to be Morgan and she was sure he would be interested in this kind of information.

clarisse
LOCATION: Boathouse, Fairview Lake

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!EVENT

Walking along Fairview Lake, you think you hear something tapping against the dock - a soft but persistent thud.

AI10100 AI10100 proceed to discord for further information.​
 
Ninety-five, hm?

That was... Honestly, quite an amusing nickname, and not a negative one, either. To be fair, Morgan wasn't used to getting those in the first place - but in this particular case it made one corner of his lips rise in response, a reaction that didn't quite change with Thomas' next words.

No, in fact, the subtle smile stayed in its spot - and it was Morgan's eyes that showed something more instead. The look in them grew... Softer, more thoughtful once again - almost gentle, even though that was not exactly directed at Thomas himself.

It was still so strange to consider that Renee and Paige were gone - in one way or another.

Even with his mission, with all of his research and the focus that had gone into that work - with all the drama that Morgan was more or less aware of... And with the speech they had just listened to as well... It didn't quite feel real at times. The sisters had always been such an integral part of this camp, it seemed, with those weeks revolving around them, that even a year later such slip-ups were bound to happen.

Perhaps it would have been unkind to point that out, though.

"I do like that name," he said instead, then, and left it at that, choosing to focus on explaining his previous words - as much as he could, at the very least. Hopefully he would be able to tell Thomas more in the future; he just... Needed to check. To make sure, unusual premonitions or not... And that required talking with Juliette.

If he could truly find that camera - and somehow get it to work... Possibly then everything would be easier.

And Thomas certainly raised a good point there, too - so Morgan listened as he carefully worked on cleaning the totem, tilting his head to the side in interest. Mm, yes, dinner time was approaching swiftly - and Morgan had almost forgotten about Juliette's recent... Rebranding. The hall it was, then - though a part of him didn't enjoy the idea of splitting up... For multiple very different reasons.

They could always talk some more later, though - and just the fact that Thomas had suggested the two of them going elsewhere alone really told Morgan everything that he needed to know about that. A quiet hum fell from his lips, something vaguely agreeable - but before he could actually speak, Thomas himself continued doing so...

And, well.

Morgan wasn't entirely proud of the louder - amused - exhale that escaped him at that Juliette comment... But he was also only human.

"Fair, I wouldn't want to end up with a sudden and unexplainable case of food poisoning after disturbing her," he said, even though he truly didn't believe that, and the playful tone of his voice probably made that clear.

It would have been difficult for her to mess with only his food either way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan caught movement - and he glanced to the side, just to see Thomas playing with his shovel again... And then starting to walk away. Ah - already a goodbye, in that case... And so Morgan leant down once more, just to get some water from the lake - to remove the rest of the dirt from the totem and from his hands both. Honestly, he would have rather found a different source of it, but... Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all.

"All right, I can do that," he agreed easily in the meantime... Noting, but keeping to himself the fact that Thomas had used the same sort of description for himself as he had done for Juliette before. Perhaps that was simply the joke. "Good luck with hiding Vel... And I'll see you during dinner, then."

Hopefully.

Standing up, Morgan threw one last look at Thomas, still with that subtle smile on his face - and then he was already walking back, following the same path they had taken before. As he did so, his eyes found another figure nearby - relatively so, at least. That seemed to be... Clarisse? All alone? Well... No, actually. He wasn't too surprised by that last bit...

There was a part of him that almost wanted to approach her - to at least wave to her... But she wasn't looking in his direction in that moment, so there really was no point in doing that, and... If she had wished to be with people right then, she would have found some company. He understood the need to get away sometimes; he wasn't going to bother her.

Instead, he continued on his way.

He had to carry the totem in his hand at first, waiting for it to dry, but thankfully the sun took care of that for him rather fast. It was, of course, too big to fit into a pocket, and suddenly Morgan wished he had taken a small bag with him - but he had received no premonition about that, unfortunately. Funny how the world worked.

He considered attaching the thing to his belt with a chain - but he couldn't imagine that being a secure way to transport it... Nor a subtle one, really. No, maybe it was better to swing by the cabins, after all, to deposit it there among his belongings...

And so that was what he did. Or - well, he began to, heading in that direction and still looking around along the way... Marvelling at how peaceful the woods felt right then. He knew they were not safe; not just because of what had happened last year, but... Simply because nature was always a threat. Oh, she could be a friend, too; she could take care of you, aid you - but she certainly demanded respect... And could turn against you with one wrong move.

He did admire that.

He was already close to his first stop when he noticed something smooth hiding between the tangled roots of a large tree. A different shade of wood... And certainly not shaped in a natural way. Was that a... Oh.

Another one?

As he hesitantly left the path to approach the totem, Morgan found himself frowning in thought. So it wasn't an isolated case - something that had been lost or intentionally hidden in the lake... Especially since this one didn't even seem all that concealed. What did that tell him, exactly? That... That they were meant to be found? And if that was the case - was it a good thing or not?

Could it be a trap of some sort?

His hand was even more careful as he crouched down to reach for the item this time... But his fingers brushed against it - and nothing bad immediately happened. He already knew what to do, taught by the previous experience; at that point he did not stall before lifting the totem and turning it around, letting the darkness spread...

Was that... The lake?

Water, at least - and the lake just made the most sense... But, like before, Morgan couldn't see much of the surroundings, only the figure in focus there - Josephine? Looking towards a shape caught in the current...

There was that strange sensation again, an impression of butterflies... But everything felt different this time, and even once the vision retreated and the real world re-emerged, Morgan's heart was still left beating fast, and his insides felt unpleasantly light... Like while falling. He recognised what that was; more than just anxiety, but... Almost a fight-or-flight-or-freeze response...

He swallowed hard, pushing himself up again, looking between one totem and the other. Not the same. And... That meant that there could be more somewhere around. And... And they were clearly physical objects, Thomas had been able to see one of them before - so other people could run into them as well.

All right. That was good.

And now he really needed to put those in the cabin.

Perhaps he walked a little faster now - both on his way there and back. With the totems hidden behind his bag, his hands were once again free... Which was fortunate, since dinner time truly was drawing near. With that in mind - and still very much interested in finding Juliette - Morgan took the path towards the dinner hall, silently considering everything that had happened... And yet still remaining aware of his surroundings.

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Wyll Wyll
 






riley kelson




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CIL



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Riley handed the poker stick over to Marquis without any fuss. She may have been the one to spot it in the fireplace but this wasn’t finders keepers and she wasn’t claiming ownership over something she found in a cabin that wasn’t even hers, nor did she want to be responsible for something that could potentially cause a person bodily harm. Still, it was weird. "I trust you. It's you being stuck in a cabin with Lou this entire camp that I don't trust." Riley stated as she watched Marquis look around for a hiding spot. When he placed it under his pillow and turned to look at Riley as if asking for her opinion she only shrugged in response. Hopefully, it worked and no one who didn't need to find it found it, she really didn't want to have to sit through another camp lecture about not causing bodily harm to your bunkmates. But if they did it would be in their cabin and not hers so at least she wouldn't be to blame for it.

It was odd though that the poker was still in the cabin and not hidden away somewhere had to just be a coincidence. There were so many steps that came with making sure camp was ready to begin each year that a fireplace stick was probably the last thing on anyone's mind when they were setting up the cabins. Thankfully it was in one of the counselor cabins and not one filled with kids who would have immediately hidden it and kept it a secret until somebody got hurt.

"What's what?" She asked turning her back to Marquis as she looked over to Rowan before her gaze traveled to the folder he held open. "Huh.." She murmured to herself before walking over to take a seat next to him. Her eyes scanned over the papers that were presented to herself and Marquis before her brows furrowed in confusion. They were all a bunch of rehabilitation centers it looked like, and even worse they were addressed to Paige with a threatening note at the bottom of the page. Jesus..Riley had never been close to Paige outside of their mutual connection to Rowan and she knew that Paige had never been the pure angel she tried to portray herself as but for someone to threaten her was insanity. And what did the person mean about stopping her? Stopping Paige? Telling Paige to stop Renee? It was all so confusing and Riley had no choice but to believe that the universe was playing a sick trick on Rowan for allowing him to find this folder.

"It must have been someone trying to intimidate Paige." Riley finally concluded before letting out a huff of air. It was the only logical deduction she could think of, why else would the person who wrote the note be warning Paige that she would pay the price if she didn't do what was asked of her? What Riley wanted to know though was why? "What do you think Marquis?" She turned her dark gaze to the other counselor. Once she did Riley noticed that he looked like he was extremely dizzy and hanging on to his bed to support himself. “Marquis?” She tried again, her voice shifting to a tone of concern. Before she could ask any more questions he waved her off and blamed it on vertigo. Riley stared at him for a few moments afterward, contemplating in her head whether she believed him or not. The two of them weren't exactly close, he was more Rowan's friend than he was hers, so Riley decided to drop it. If he didn't want to say what was wrong then she wasn't going to beg him to.

She looked back to the folder. "These are rehab centers," She pointed out, though that much was obvious she felt the need to bring it to the forefront of the conversation. "And this entire folder is made out to Paige. If she was going to rehab for something there's no way her family didn't know about it." Not to mention the fact that rehabilitation centers weren't cheap, Johnathon's money was definitely what paid for it. "If anything it seems like whoever wrote this note to her was threatening to tell everyone that she was in rehab." It was attached to papers about centers and was made out to Paige specifically, it was a threat to her and her alone.

When had Paige even gone to rehab? During the rest of the year when camp wasn't ongoing? It had to be that, Riley couldn't pull any memories of any of the Evergreens not being at camp to the forefront of her mind...Wait no that wasn't true. Riley did remember a year when Paige had missed camp. She sat up a bit straighter, turning her focus back to Rowan with a slightly guilty expression. Riley couldn't imagine how difficult this must have been for him. It was bad enough that Paige had gone missing the way she had but for him to now be finding out that there were things about her he potentially didn't know had to be a tough pill to swallow. "Paige wasn't here for a camp a few years back. Do you think..?" Did he think that the year Paige had been strangely absent that it was because she had been at rehab.








♡coded by uxie♡
 









scroll








temperance / the green thumb



connie.













outfit

camp fit.











location

the village, cabin 3.











interactions

n/a.











mentions

clarisse, billy, juliette.











tags

n/a.















A silent flare of disappointment snaked throughout her body when Clarisse didn't say Cabin Three, and it only turned into another flit of blazing annoyance when Juliette wiggled three taunting fingers in her direction. Connie couldn’t suppress a scoff before it slipped out, her smile cracking her porcelain skin into two—a smile that hinted at anything but joy. Bitch.

Spending a summer at Camp Evergreen with "Loose-Screws Barbie" had already proven challenging the moment Levine laid eyes on her, but the thought of sharing a cabin with Juliette felt painfully unbearable. Connie could feel her mask slipping with every second, her gaze narrowing again as she watched Juliette drag Leon away from the amphitheater.

And once she was gone, the air became lighter again.

"I have to go and do some inspections at the lake." Oh, right.. Clarisse was still here. She had been so caught up in her emotions that she'd almost forgotten the conversation she started. Reluctantly, Connie tore her gaze away from the dissipating crowd of campers and counselors headed toward their destinations, her muddy eyes locking with Clarisse's blue ones.

"Right, I'll see you at the Dining Hall, then," Levine muttered, her tone animated but hollow, devoid of any real emotion. She watched Clarisse leave for only a moment before turning to Billy, offering a brief, "It was nice seeing you," before departing soon after.

Once Connie walked into her assigned cabin again, she found herself letting out a sigh of relief, finding the still silence of it to be a comforting reprieve. Despite her feelings about it being different now having discovered who she would be sharing it with all summer, it was still a safe zone as long as no one was here to pester her with any questions or condolences.

For now, at least, she still had something to herself.

Walking leisurely toward the bed she’d claimed with her belongings, Connie began to rummage through the first bag she spotted. The tension in her shoulders started to dissolve as her fingers brushed against something familiar. Tugging at a pair of wired headphones, she heard a faint clatter. A stray chapstick had slipped from the tangles of the wires, tumbling to the floor and rolling toward the brown armchair, where it disappeared into the shadows beneath.

"Great..," her voice cut the peaceful silence of the cabin as her eyes trailed her chapstick's journey to the unknown, shuffling with annoyance to track it down. Once she found herself sinking onto both her knees, she bent over slightly and shoved her hand underneath—hoping to successfully retrieve it. But instead:

"Fuck!" Connie yelped, flinching at the sudden sharp pinch to her fingertip. She yanked her hand back, instinctively bringing her pointer finger to her mouth to suck on before taking a look. A bead of blood welled up from the broken skin.

The stinging sensation persisted as she looked for the culprit, catching a brief glimmer of orange as the light from the window seeped into the cabin. Guided by that faint gleam, she reached under the chair again, this time more cautiously.

Annoyance found her again as her fingers closed around something cool and hard. As she pulled it into the light, she finally got a clear view of her assailant—a piece of glass. Someone had left it behind carelessly, a perfect hazard waiting to be found. Did anyone even clean these cabins before we got here?

Even through her irritation, Connie couldn’t shake the curiosity welling up in her gut as she examined the shard with an analytical eye. The more she scrutinized it, the more out of place it seemed. Connie had attended Camp Evergreen long enough to know that there was no structure on the site that used decorative glass—especially not a piece that looked like it had lost its way.

"Where did you even come from..?" she murmured, rising to her feet and completely forgetting the chapstick as she carried the stained glass piece toward her bed.

Connie couldn’t make sense of it, so she decided to shove the shard deep into her bag, intending to deal with it later. Confusion burrowed deep into her mind as she hastily zipped the duffle bag shut. Common sense told her to throw it away, not keep it. After all, it was just a piece of stray glass... right?

And yet, she made no move to reach back for it and toss it out. Instead, she found herself staring at the duffle bag where it now resided, watching as if the glass might jump out at her any second.

Why would it even be here?


♡coded by uxie♡
 



reese hendricks.
































Reese Hendricks’ alarm did not ring on the morning of July 12th, 2002, like it had been supposed to. Instead, he’d been awoken by the voice of Paige Evergreen.

He’d felt the heat even in his sleep, as the muggy summer air had slipped in through his bedroom window and chased him all the way back to the party he’d attended a little over a year ago. Beer bubbled in the back of his throat, a dull iron taste, watered down, sliding over his tongue like a flat blade.

Paige sat beside him, and they giggled. He remembered her voice, it seemed, proven by the way it rang through his subconscious as he dreamed. But he hadn’t remembered exactly what she had said. He laughed with her anyway, just as he did before, back when it had really happened.

The fairy lights strung atop the fence in the backyard twinkled, and slightly dizzy, Reese could see them in the corner of his eye, hanging above Paige’s head like a halo. One of the bulbs fizzled out, a spark of light framing the filament like the flash of a camera. No one seemed to notice when the light was gone behind the glass.

Reese’s ears rang. Everything sounded far away, the way it did in memories. He glanced to his right. Paige was sipping on her beer, giggling into her plastic solo cup. Reese chuckled as well, cocking his head, unsure of what the joke had been.

"What… what were we talking about?”
he asked, his head shaking slightly, brow furrowed but still holding a lazy smile.

Paige lowered her cup, grinning. Her teeth, once porcelain, had been dipped in deep crimson. Blood coated her lips and tongue, had seeped into the cracks of her smile between her gums, a red so deep it looked almost black in the shadow of the moon.

Reese’s face fell, and he gazed into his own cup. It was blood. They’d been drinking it all night.

“I said," Paige raised her cup at him, still smiling. “Do you want some more?”

~ ~ ~

Reese’s back bumper clipped the curb as he accelerated out of his family’s driveway, the crunch of metal only barely audible over the coughing of the engine. As he left, home seemed to follow him for a few moments, caught in his rearview mirror, like a dog running behind him, beckoning him back.

He was in too much of a hurry to spare a glance at it. His father’s truck fought him as he took street corners, his pace sputtering over each pothole. He’d never quite gotten the hang of driving with a stick shift, and no one had ever volunteered to try teaching him. But it was this, or take his sister’s old car.

She wouldn’t have needed a car where she lived now. The whole campus, even the city, was completely walkable. So her old sedan sat in the driveway, the wheels sitting on weeds that pushed up between the cracks in the cement. He thought briefly about the little toy cars they had buried in a time capsule they’d made when they were small. The weeds had taken those, too.

Last year, he tried to dig it up. And he couldn’t find it.

So the truck was fine. Besides, the radio was still killer.

~ ~ ~

Reese drug his duffle bag up the porch stairs to Cabin 4, squinting beneath his hand as he blocked out the sun. He’d accidentally visited Cabin 2 by mistake because he couldn’t remember which one he’d been assigned to. It became very clear very quickly that he was indeed not an acceptable member of Cabin 2.

As he turned the doorknob to Cabin 4, he wondered whether he should bother pretending that he’d gotten to camp on time, as if he hadn’t missed the sort of ceremonial welcoming. Maybe the cabin would at least be empty for now, and he could claim his bunk in peace.

That was not the case. Instead, three counsellors already occupied the room, seemingly deep in conversation. Reese let out a huff of breath, and straightened slightly, pulling at the strap of his duffel bag as he entered the room.

"Gentlemen.”
he muttered, shuffling past them, aloof to their topic of conversation. He patted Riley’s shoulder as he cut through the trio’s congregation.
"And Riley”


He tossed his bag on one of the empty beds and sat down heavily on the mattress. It creaked under his weight.
"Reading? What is this, book club—?”


Reese caught Riley’s eye, and his sentence dissolved in his mouth. He cocked an eyebrow, studying their others’ faces now as well. Both Rowan and Marquis seemed to be just as vexed, their expressions pulled tight in worry and confusion. Reese swallowed as a beat of uncomfortable silence passed, a pause riding on the tail end of Riley’s question.

"What are we doing?”
Reese asked, his tone flat, though his eyebrow remained raised.
"Why are you guys being weird?”


































brain stew



green day










♡coded by uxie♡
 






liberty f.




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think up anger



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Boy toy?

Liberty quirks a singular brow at JC, surprised by his audacity to assume, assume, and assume. This time, she bites her tongue as he retreats — there was no point arguing with a brick wall, too cemented in place to budge, and that's how it will always be between them; a constant mildly frustrating back and forth.

"You and JC, huh?"

She rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose at the thought. "He wishes—"

"Actually, I have to go." Levi cuts her off, stepping away and refusing to meet her eyes. "I need to head to the first cabin, make sure Leon doesn't steal my bed—or Thomas take my shit." Her eyes narrow suspiciously at his attempt to leave — further when he offers a small, but awkward wave. "I'll catch you at dinner tonight. It was nice seeing you, Lib."

Uh, what? Liberty stares ahead, watching as his silhouette fades into the distance. She replays everything back, searching for a rhyme or reason for his sudden change in attitude and can only land on one explanation: it's just Levi. With a small indignant huff, Liberty stalks into the direction of The Lodge, intending to pack away her book club pick into the bookshelves and storage units, and to decidedly not think about Levi.

Jonathan Evergreen stands just outside, saying some final farewells to campers and parents alike. Liberty sends him a wave as he catches her eye, hoping the small action is enough to convey her thoughts: we'll be fine. Sure, she was very much under the presumption that an opportunistic killer potentially hailing from Easthallow had lurked in the woods once upon a time, but with the media coverage — they've likely moved onto another town, city, state. Far enough away to continue their spree without facing the consequences of splitting the Evergreen family into pieces.

She takes a final moment to let her head fall back and soak up the sun, the rays of warmth casting a golden glow across the lake and campgrounds. It was rare, getting her dose of vitamin d when her hobbies demanded her presence under a roof, when history books were so tattered and delicate that exposure to uv rays would only serve to fade the written words. Maybe book club could take place outside this summer—

Ricky breezes past and into the Lodge, and her mood sours once more. Must every intolerable person be in her direct line of sight at all times?

Steeling herself to avoid all interactions, Liberty enters shortly after and takes a quick inventory of who is there: Ricky, Leilani, and Isla. She blinks, surprised that the eldest Evergreen decided to return to the site of her sisters' deaths. As curious as you, maybe, her subconscious offers, and Liberty brushes past them to where she deposited her copies of Coraline on the rug, dropping to her knees to begin tucking them away into the storage unit beneath the sofa. In her efforts, her elbow knocks against a stack of books to the left of the sofa and before the television cabinet.

Her eyes slip closed in mild frustration. Is it so hard to keep things organised? She sets to work, picking up book after book and packing them away into the shelf where they belong, when she spots something out of place — her hands hover above... a postcard? The image depicts a beach and swaying palm trees in the distance. She takes the worn card in hand and flips it over, eyes widening ever so slightly as she reads: 'I'm sorry for missing camp this year, Isla — but I do not miss being around them. Dad has been more distant than ever, I think he's seeing someone... not even work takes him away from us for this long.' A postcard from Paige Evergreen, three summers ago. A time where Renee had been unstoppable in her onslaught of drama with no little sister to drag her away from the confrontations. No sister but Isla.

Liberty glances over her shoulder to where Isla stands, tempted to hand over the postcard — it was theirs, she deserved to have a message from their sister.

She folds it in half and shoves the postcard into the back-pocket of her jeans, refusing to dwell on her intuition to hold onto it.

Sorry Isla, Liberty thinks, only half-genuine as she stands up, finished with the task. First things first—

"Isla." She moves towards the last surviving Evergreen girl, taking in her green lace top and black skirt — ever the eccentric one — and offers them a small, pursed smile. "Which cabin are staying in this summer?"

Because I need to hide this properly if we're sharing.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
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isla evergreen




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  • home (filler tab)



































baby bugs



diseased








Isla felt ridiculous. She already missed her father and it hadn't been more than a few minutes since he left. Fiddling with the watch around her wrist, she looked around the lodge and took it all in. Should she have come back? After everything, was this really the best decision? Isla knew her father would have preferred she stay home, especially after what happened to Paige and Renee, but her love of teaching the campers won over her anxieties.

The door to the lodge swung open and slammed against the wall, making Isla bristle. Turning around sharply with narrowed eyes, their expression softened almost immediately as they spotted Ricky, one of the few real friends they had, "Ricky, it's so good to see you," they smiled and crossed the room to greet him, pulling him into a hug, "I hope you've been well."

Isla wasn't one for hugs or physical affection, she knew this was somewhat out of character, but after losing Paige and Renee... She would give anything to hug them one last time. With a sigh, she pulled away, the corners of her lips turned up slightly, "I'm not up to much at the moment. I said goodbye to my dad and now I'm just... Idling." Isla shrugged, rocking back and forth on her heels.

It was unfortunate that the conversation had died out so quickly. Isla should have asked him something in return, but it was too late—someone else entered the lodge. Liberty Fallon. Isla accidentally made eye contact with her as she breezed past, catching a brief flash of surprise on Liberty’s face. I suppose it is strange seeing me return to the camp my sisters vanished from. Isla was quick to dismiss the thought with a shake of her head, finally running a hand through her hair to fix it after her father had mussed it up.

Isla's gaze lingered on Liberty for a while longer, watching curiously as she picked something up, but turned away before anyone could catch her staring. She resorted to fiddling with her watch again, eyes glued to the clock hands as time ticked onward.

"Isla."

She looked up at the sound of Liberty's voice and raised a brow.

"Which cabin are staying in this summer?"

Isla was quiet for a moment, hands dropping to her sides. "Hello to you too, Little Bird," she hummed, returning the small smile and forcing herself to relax. "I'm in cabin 2 this year. What cabin have you been assigned?" Isla already knew they were going to be in the same cabin, but maybe this was a chance to have an actual conversation with Liberty.

I probably shouldn't have called her little bird just now, Isla cringed internally, only somewhat regretting the little jab she made at Liberty. It was too late to take it back now.





♡coded by uxie♡
 










LOU
VAN ROYEN















name

lou






location

art's & crafts room [the lodge]










mentions







role

the runaway









Lou knew nothing about Kolkata, India. Seldom did he know much about India at all. He once picked up a travel book at a local thrift shop in Reno–the hardback book laden with photos of colorful boulders, streets, and information about Northern India. He couldn’t really remember any names. Only the Chola Mountains, where the Dalai Lama was said to have crossed through it’s rough terrain and fickle avalanches after escaping the Chinese Government in the 1950’s. The most enthralling part of the entire book was the photographs of these huge mountain faces, snow tipped and sharpened at the edges. The very thought of conquering something so xenic to his own experiences with Northern Pacific climbs had him flipping through these pages over and over.

He’d also read about Buddhism while on the road, quite extensively for a time–almost to the point of entertaining it for his own pathway. Though it was generally stagnant as a fleeting obsession of his, it opened his eyes to something that could potentially clear the darkness consuming his mind all those years ago. The core ideas still resonated with him nowadays, the Marks of Existence and Samsara--both fond in his memories.

Perhaps if he was less of a skeptic, he’d have followed through whole-heartedly.

Although, it would be wrong to assume she aligned herself with any such principals–there were other heavily spotlighted religions in the country. Might be worth a mention for his own curiosity. Surely she might have an interesting perspective about it having grown up around such culturally rich history.

Or at the very least, her experience with summer camps in India might point him in the direction of good future climbing spots.

Lou was just about to mention it when she stood up to stretch, seeming to move on from the conversation.

“I don’t mean to be a bother, you’re just the first person I’ve really met… If you aren’t terribly busy, do you want to show me around?”

“Oh, I’m not doin’ anything. Sounds fun.” He obliged, “It’s too nice ‘a day not to take a walk.”

As he responded, something she’d once held in her hands rolled down the wooden stairs–he turned his head, observing her chase the item. When she’d turned back up from below the benches, Zarina had pulled out a wooden plank and held it in front of her face–one eye through a carved-out hole placed in the middle of it.

Lou maintained a subtle smile at her, leaning forward to take a closer look at the totem and it’s intricate carvings. The wood work was beautiful, not just a simple carver’s work but meticulous wood-burning–pyrography like he’d never really seen before. The split second felt rushed–Lou hadn’t the chance to make out what the carvings created before she pulled it away from her face. He straightened up, tilting his head as she put the totem to her face once more. Something in her expression changed, like she’d become entranced but only for that flash of time.

Lou held his tongue out of politeness, although he really did want to laugh and question her reaction. He did wonder what made her so uneasy all of a sudden–as if she’d lost her footing in the milieu of the moment.

Perhaps he was just reading into it too much, as usual.

Being thrusted in an environment so far from normalcy warranted some anxieties. Even his own big move from Oklahoma to Oregon was daunting at a point.

“Let’s do it.” He settled, taking more steps up the stairs as she caught up. “The Lodge’s probably a good place to start. And, uh, I’m Lou by the way.”

Lou took off the light weight jacket, he’d had on since the early morning–the sun starting to beat down with more tenacity. He draped it over his arm.

On their walk, they passed the village–Lou pointing out his own cabin [4] which faced her’s [3]. He remarked impartially on the other counselors, citing he hadn’t seen most of them since his late teens. After some back and forth banter, clarifying further revelations on Lou’s unusual relationship with the camp–they finally reached the foot of the Lodge.

He stepped aside to let her enter first, holding the door open with a practiced ease. Though he had briefly visited this place before to touch base with Eva, she seemed to be absent at the moment. Lou motioned toward the office as they passed, “The camp director’s office, Eva. You might know that already.” They continued their journey down the hallway towards the back area of the lodge.

To the collection of shelving, housing a colorful array of boxes and books, “--where all the books, tapes and board games live.”

As they ventured into the hallway, Lou guided her to the Arts & Crafts room, a part of the lodge that was less familiar to him. His only previous visit had been a distant childhood memory, merely to borrow scissors for a project he couldn’t recall anymore. When he opened the door, he was taken aback seeing a familiar face—one he should have anticipated being around here. “Leilani, hey.”

“Uh, this is Zarina–I wanted to show her around before we got started here.” Lou moved aside so Zarina could step forward, “Sorry if we’re intruding.”

As the two girls got their chance to meet, Lou’s eyes narrowed in on the dark wooden storage shelves by the door–his hand gravitating towards a piece of frayed construction paper sticking out from where the wall met the storage shelves. Freeing the paper from its constriction, his thumb grazed over the colored pencil markings.

The depiction–a blonde girl in shorts and a tank top standing pin-straight next to a dark form with ears–a dog, he concluded. Though the drawing looked funny–the trees towered over the two figures, like it was waving in the wind or maybe curved as if it was to swallow them whole.

The white moon was carved out in a crescent shape, stars in dot form littered the sky. Somehow this drawing was both crude and compelling.

Now that he was looking at the girl, she looked like Paige.

Not Paige.

Lou was looking for her yet again.

“So how’ve you been?”--resting the paper face down on shelving, still unsure whether he wanted to pocket it or not.





























♪ sleeping in - the radio dept. ♪

the breeders






♡coded by uxie♡

 
Ricky Sanford
Interactions: lostbird lostbird angel doe angel doe

Ricky was glad to see Isla; he'd missed her throughout the year, despite texting back and forth a bit. He was a little surprised when they hugged him, knowing that Isla hadn't shown much physical affection in the past. But everyone needed comfort sometimes, and this year had to have been difficult for her. And surely, she knew that Ricky was always up for a good hug. He loved physical affection, being happy to give out high fives and hugs, or give a companion a friendly punch to the shoulder after a joke. He had heard that he was a pretty good hugger, in fact, and was in all honesty somewhat proud of that. Nothing like being good at comforting people. He truly did enjoy being able to be the source of someone feeling better after a rough day, month, or even year. So of course he hugged back, trying his best to put all of his care for his friend into the gesture, as if that could make it more comforting.

As Isla pulled out of the hug, Ricky studied her face. They seemed to be a bit on edge, maybe, but not as if they were about to burst into tears or anything. Not that Ricky thought they would, but he wanted to be the best friend that he could at all times. He was good at figuring out the right approach based on someone's current mood--or what he was able to discern of it, anyway. It seemed as if Isla had something further to say before the appearance of someone else in the room interrupted whatever thought she'd been having.

None other than Liberty Fallon had entered the room, and Ricky suppressed a frown. He didn't make a habit of getting into drama with other counselors, but for some reason, Liberty had never seemed to like him. He'd tried to be friendly with her at first, but their personalities were just too different to truly mesh. And now she was talking to Isla, ignoring Ricky completely, which was a habit of hers. One that he had gotten used to despite it genuinely hurting his feelings at first. Maybe it was childish, but her avoidance of Ricky led to him not talking to her, either, except when absolutely necessary. But her presence now set Ricky a little on edge, since he didn't remember her and Isla being close. If she said anything rude to Isla, Ricky would be quick to defend his friend.

Luckily, Liberty didn't say uncouth, which was good. He knew Isla was an adult too and could more than defend themself, but he still felt protective of his friends. But Ricky wasn't going to just stand there. He was in the room, too. Might as well force Liberty to acknowledge it.

"Hi, Liberty," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets instead of his usual wave. His tone wasn't too different from his normal one, but it wasn't difficult to see how his shoulders tightened at the presence of someone who so clearly disliked him. Once upon a time he would've done anything to stop a fellow counselor from disliking him like that, but her coldness kept him at bay now. Whatever. What Liberty thought of him wasn't his problem, right? Hopefully she would just leave soon. He hoped that he wouldn't end up near her at dinner, or it was going to be a very long, boringly quiet affair.
 
Armed with this new information, Clarisse looked down at her wristwatch and dreaded the fact that it was almost dinnertime. It would be the first time every counselor would be forced in close proximity with each other. They wouldn't outright fight in front of campers but you never know with this group. Her included.

She felt the torn page in her pocket once more. Now that she thought about it, why was it torn? Where did it come from exactly? Was someone trying to hide it? Or was someone planting this as some sort of evidence to put the Evergreen Camp under fire? There was a lot to think about when it came to the why's and how's. It would take quite a long time to actually find out the answer to these questions if it would even be possible to be answered. Maybe there were other clues like this around?

Still, time waited for no one. With one final look down the lake, she began to make her way back to the camp.

As she turned around, she began hearing some sort of thudding. Something soft yet persistent enough to be worrying. She paused and made her way back to the dock to investigate. By the time she got to the end of the docks again. Originally, she had thought she had messed up the tying of the kayak a little bit and it was causing the boat to hit the docks but that didn't seem to be the case. Not when the lake was still and the kayak wasn't moving.

Nothing seemed to be completely out of place so maybe it was just some... random stick. She turned back to her watch and shook her head. She didn't have time to investigate any further anyway without being some form of late. Shrugging off the weird occurrence, she headed to the dining hall. Juliette was the cook of this summer camp, right? That... should certainly be an experience. It wasn't that she didn't trust her to make good meals but, well, first impressions since their last meeting did not bode well for the techie.
clarisse
LOCATION: Boathouse, Fairview Lake

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code by valen t.
 






kayden




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CCR



bad moon rising








As he got further from the amphitheater, Kayden began to tell himself that what he’d just seen wasn’t real.

After all, it wasn’t like he’d actually seen something. Whatever it was had been all in his head– none of the other counselors had even been looking at him when… it had ended. And he’d never been one for visions or hallucinations. Why would that start now, just because he picked up a single piece of wood on the riverbank? That didn’t make any sense.

No. It was just a stray thought passing through his head, one that had happened to be a little more vivid than usual. Sure, Thomas wasn’t often at the forefront of his mind, but so what? It was the first day of camp, and that came with seeing a swath of familiar faces once again. Is it really that strange for his brain to wander down that path? That was how the mind often worked, especially when coming back to a place you hadn’t been in a while… right?

Reassuring himself was helpful, to a point. It didn’t change the strange anxiety he felt building in his stomach, or the fact that he’d been too afraid to look at the damn thing since he picked it up. He could still feel it sitting in his pocket, and that alone made him feel uneasy. The weight of it seemed to grow heavier with every step.

His steps slowed a little as reached into his shorts and pulled it free, careful to keep the hole facing the ground. It looked exactly as it had only a few minutes before— intricate detailing, white paint, birdlike features. The craftsmanship it displayed was gorgeous, to be honest. Whoever had made it must have put hours of effort into getting every little thing just the way they wanted it. Almost sad, then, to have it washed away down the river and end up on the property of some summer camp. There were, seemingly, no features on the damn thing to say where it had come from; no way Kayden would be able to get this back to wherever it had come from.

See, dumbass? It’s a piece of carved fucking wood. You need to calm down.

Caught up in his thoughts, Kayden failed to notice that there was somebody crossing his path until—

“Mmph!”

It wasn’t much of a word, but it was enough to signal to Kayden that he’d run into someone in his distracted haste, namely Ramona, whose path to the garden had been temporarily derailed—in fact, she’d barely made it out of her cabin. Yet, she was quick to recover, tilting her head to peer up at the boy with concern tugging at her brows. “You okay?”

Kayden startled, his grip on the wooden totem slipping for just a second before he caught himself, tightening his fingers to keep from dropping it.

“Yeah,” he said, after a moment. The surprise of Ramona’s appearance had him blinking for a second, before he settled his face into something he hoped was more cool and neutral— something more fitting of his usual Evergreen demeanor. “I didn’t see you there, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Mona assured, waving a hand dismissively. She stepped away as if to leave, pushing aside a stray piece of her bangs, but her gaze shifted downward long enough to notice the wooden object in Kayden’s grip and stopped in her tracks. “What’s that?” she asked, nodding towards the item in question. “I didn’t take you for the woodworking type.”

For a moment, he blanked. The vision of Thomas flashed through his mind, but he pushed it aside. “What, this?” He asked, holding it in the air as he pulled a half-smile onto his lips. Putting on a face was a skill he usually excelled at; he hoped it didn’t show how shaken he was from before. “I’m not, really— the woodworking type. I found it in the amphitheater. Thought it looked cool.”

Ramona hummed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it is pretty cool. Not really my style, but this place could use a little sprucing up.” She glanced around at the cabins on either side of them. They were old, and it was starting to show—despite Burns’ upkeep, there was nothing he could do to deter the natural course of things. The wooden walls were weathered now, chipping here and there from years of braving the elements. Mona wasn’t necessarily one to care about appearances, but even she could tell that Evergreen Camp was in dire need of a little extra TLC.

“Ok, well,” Ramona continued, kicking absentmindedly at the dirt beneath her feet, “I should get going. I’ll see you around.” She started to retreat towards her initial path, then, as an after-thought, added, “Good luck with your decorating,” with a smile that conveyed she realized how stupid that sounded to say aloud. Mona shook her head at her own statement as she turned her back to Kayden at last, hurrying her pace before she could linger in her embarrassment any longer.

Kayden watched her go for a few seconds. “Decorating?” He repeated under his breath, once she was too far away to hear it, before he turned back to his own cabin. The wood got shoved back into the pockets of his shorts as he trudged further up the path to Cabin 4; there was bound to be at least a few people inside, and while Ramona had accepted his explanation easy enough, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the questioning that would come from somebody who wasn’t just passing by.

On his way up to the cabin porch, however, he paused. Today must have been Kayden’s lucky day for finding something, because his eyes caught on something once more. Unlike the wooden totem from before, though, this had a certain shine to it. Tucked beside the steps up to the cabin was a small tin box, half hidden by the brush on the ground.

That was new. As far back as Kayden recalled, he couldn’t remember any of the cabins he’d been in before having a box by the steps. He didn’t remember seeing it earlier, either, but that was more than likely a result of him having looked past it rather than anything else. With his curiosity piqued, he bent down to examine it.

The box wasn’t too big, which probably helped to explain why he missed it the first time. There was something inside though, based on the metallic clink it made when he lifted it into the air. All in all, it was rather unassuming. And, as he discovered when he undid the latch, unlocked.

Inside, there was nothing more than a key and a note– Wall Box houses security measures - H.B.

“Huh,” Kayden mumbled, as he reached in to pull them both out. What wall box was this for? Which wall box had anything to do with ‘security measures’ on camp? The only thing he was confident about was who it was from; it didn’t seem like a huge leap in logic to figure that the note was from Hugo. Kayden couldn’t remember the man’s last name, but he wanted to say that it had started with a B. Besides, who else would be in the position to forget a key somewhere around camp that had something to do with security.

A better person might have run off to find Hugo and give him back his key. After all, the note certainly made it seem like the key was of some importance. He might be missing it, or at the very least, not want it in the hands of a random counselor. It was unfortunate for him that Kayden was not that person. When he stared down at the key in his palm, he had no desire to reunite it with it’s owner– he wanted to reunite it with the lock.

Maybe a mystery for later, but a mystery for him now.

Kayden tucked the key and it’s accompanying note in the pocket of his overshirt, secure against his chest, before latching the box back. After a moment of consideration, he tucked it further under the cabin steps so that it was out of sight for anybody walking past. In the case that Hugo didn’t remember where he’d put it, Kayde didn’t want him to see it wandering past. The last thing he needed was the man coming into his cabin and demanding to know which counselor had it.

Once the box was out of sight, he stood up and brushed the dirt off of his knees. With the key and the totem now tucked away in various pockets, he climbed the last few stairs and stepped up to the door.

A voice greeted him as he pushed his way inside. Reese’s, more specifically– “Why are you guys being weird?”

Well, the summer was off to a great start already. “Jeez, am I interrupting something already?” Kayden asked.







collab with: ramona blake [ lvcid lvcid ]
mentions: n/a
interactions: riley kelson [ mi casa mi casa ], rowan bishop [ irregular-neptune irregular-neptune ], marquis solis [ Wyll Wyll ], reese hendricks [ Maverick. Maverick. ]​
 
Last edited:








  • click here



    lostbird.



    anyasjoy.


























    die 4 you


    dean









    JULIETTE & LEON




♡design by miyabi, coded by uxie♡
 



((Note: Thoughts will be crimson and italicized while speech will be crimson and bolded.))​

Thomas posts.jpg

The Entertainer

Thomas
Mode

Thomas threw a casual salute over his shoulder as Morgan announced his departure. He slumped against the tree, sliding down until he sat on the floor with one knee propped up and his eyes closed. It was peaceful out here. Left to his own devices, he would have stayed here all camp and not had to interact with anybody. He allowed himself let his guard down, allowing a genuine smile as he took in the sounds of nature without humans around to get in the way and mess up the music.

He lost track of time as he sat there and marinated in nature. However, there was a nudging at him to get up. Something deep within him told him to leave. God, I've spent too much time with Morgan. All this talk about premonitions and gut feelings had him imagining gut feelings of his own. He sighed and shook his head, unsure why he was even listening to this gut feeling, but not wanting to risk it. After all, he would rather look like an idiot than look dead.

However, as he walked, he caught sight of something curious. A shadow moving about in the forest. In one moment, all the apathy he had forced on himself disappeared and blood started rushing around his body so quickly that he didn't even take the time to try and get a better look of who it was. All he could see was red. A chance for redemption. A chance to find out what happened to Renee. A chance to find out who this sick person was.

Armed with his shovel, he made his way, soundlessly, toward the person that was moving around. They seemed preoccupied with something. This would be a good chance for him to sneak closer.

Careful. Don't let them hear you. Careful. Don't let them see you. Careful, assume armed and dangerous. Strike first.

He kept inching closer and was almost within striking range. At this distance, he could now get a better look at the person. Hold on. This person looks too hot to be some stalker, serial killer. Then she stood up. Clarisse?! He wanted to throw up at the suggestion that he could ever see Clarisse as hot. Not after what happened between them last year. What type of person keeps hitting someone who never hits back? Then again...what type of person doesn't hit back when they are actively being beat up?

The whole thing had been a messy situation and, regardless of what anybody said, thought or did, there wasn't a single thing he did that he regretted. Well...on second thought...there was only one thing he did that he regretted. And that one thing would stick with him until the day he died.

He stayed hidden behind the tree, thankful that he had decided to take a closer look before going crazy with the shovel. He had surprised himself. Yes, for the first few days, he only pretended like he didn't care. But then, he thought he made his peace. He thought he had moved on. He thought he had let her go. But this moment proved otherwise. On a darker day, at a crazier time, he might have done something unforgettable; something unforgivable. The thought ot it made his head swim and he struggled for his footingas he held on to the tree for balance.

whatever this was that was inside him, he needed to make his peace with it. And fast. Otherwise it might become a problem...he needed to let Renee go. For real this time. The only problem was that he didn't know how to do that.

As shaky sigh escaped his lips and he stood up properly, peaking to make sure that Clarisse was nowhere near. Once confirmed that there was a solid gap between the two of them, he too started making his way to camp. He took the longer way - on one hand to avoid any chance that he'd bump into Clarisse because she forgot something or whatever. On the other hand, he wanted to approach from the back of the cabins, where he was hoping nobody would be looking to notice him coming from the forest with a shovel. It was sketchy, even he knew that much and knew it would be a tough spot to talk his way out of.

His plan seemed to be working so far, which he was more than happy about. Getting to his cabin wall, he peeked in through one of the windows and noticed the cabin was empty. It was the perfect scene. Everybody's eyes to the dining hall, empty cabin, time to himself. Where was this luck every other time he needed it? Not needing to sneak around anymore, he entered his cabin and looked around for where the smartest place would be to his a shovel. Shrugging, he lifted the mattress up a bit and placed the shovel in the middle of the slats, placing the mattress back over it. He looked around one more time, just for good measure. It looked as though he had gotten away with his mischief.

Taking a quick look at the time, his brows raised sharply, surprised. He was almost late for dinner. He hurried out of the cabin and began quick walking towards to dining hall, offering a smile back to anybody who smiled at him.

Mentions: Clarisse ( AI10100 AI10100 )

 
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