Multiple Settings 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ∆ In Character

[quadratis]

[class=title] position: relative; width: 600px; height: 200px; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; font-size: 60px; background: transparent; color: #638574; text-shadow: 1px 2px 3px #000000; [/class]
[div class=title] IC Thread [/div]

 

[quadratis]

To be Revised.

 

[ebb]

[class=header] height: 200px; padding-left: 10%; width: 100%; background-image: url('https://i.imgur.com/EW9A4Tk.jpg?1'); background-size: cover; [/class] [class=body] max-width: 650px; margin-left: 10%; [/class]
[div class=body]

AVERY

Halfway under the shadow of a hut, Avery ducked to leaf through a sagging tower of paper lanterns. The paper was smudged and water stained, a memoir of the pristine lanterns they must’ve once been. He slid one from the stack, turning it over in his hands. Rolling the twine between his fingers, he watched the ends fray and split, eventually unraveling and spiraling apart. Frowning, he wondered how many evenings they would have to mourn before they could begin leading a happier life.

Hearing the crunch of boots approaching from behind, he stooped again to scoop up another handful of lanterns and fixed the gloomy expression from his face. A pair approached him, returning with empty decoration crates that they stacked nearby. “Here,” Avery offered, passing the lanterns to the nearest person. It was a boy, with maybe a few years on Avery. His jacket was torn on the elbow, and it crinkled stiffly when he held the lanterns against his chest. He had the energy of a newcomer. One that didn’t know washing clothes was an option here.

“Carry those over by the meal pit,” he instructed. “You’ll see another stack already there, just put them right next to that. Oh, and don’t forget to put something underneath them, I think there’s some burlap you can use. You don’t want them getting wet, they’ll tear more easily” He smiled, distributing another handful to the girl who was following the newcomer. She looked new too. It was important to introduce yourself on a strong note to newcomers, the more people who saw they could depend on him, the better. Nigel was in charge, and he would never challenge that - but a successful camp needed structure and he was happy to contribute. And foster a positive reputation in the meantime.

Dusting off his hands, he stepped away from the hut, mentally taking inventory of everything they needed for the event. They still needed to test the bows for the archery competition later, it was all in good fun but the last thing they needed was a fight breaking out over a faulty bow. More importantly, he needed to make sure they had people on hand that were well enough to even fire a bow. Rations were dwindling and disease and poor health was rising to take its place.

Picking up a piece of paper from where it had dislodged from a lantern, he shrugged his pack off his shoulders and fished through for some charcoal. He didn’t carry all his belongings with him, but he knew better than to leave his valuables unattended in a place where locks were in short supply. Finding what he was looking for, he conducted a loose survey, stopping camp members to check on their wellness and ability to take part in the evening's festivities. Taking note of several people with visual signs of dehydration, he circled back to the medical tent to report in. Stepping through the entrance, he was pleased to see Nigel. He was a busy man, and that meant it wasn’t always easy to get a moment of his time.






[/div]

 

[Widget]

Three weeks earlier

The storm was predictable, or at least as predictable as the storms could ever be. The humid air hung heavy over everyone's shoulders, pulling relentlessly on the weary, saturated limbs of the field-tenders who labored in the flat expanse in the northern quadrant of Elmsted. The light, gentle breeze that passed through town was their only respite from the heat, and even that was infrequent and brief. Zahra stood on the small platform leading up to the wooden school house framed by a canopy of branches and multi-colored leaves, watching the last of her students make their way back home. They shoved and jostled one another with untamed energy, their voices elevated in high-pitched nervous excitement. As the children gradually dispersed into the village, she felt a firm hand rest on her shoulder.

"This one's too easy."

The voice was gruff and the tone discernible, but Zahra could sense the underlying current of worry present in her friend's words. Not bothering to turn to the newcomer, she looked up; the deep, billowing orange sky-scape stared back at her.

"Your paranoia is showing again, Marvin," she deadpanned, gently elbowing him in the rib. Marvin made a low sound of disapproval, and removed his hand from Zahra's shoulder as he moved to face her, blocking her view of the mountains just beyond Elmsted.

“Better to be paranoid than dead,” he replied, crossing his large arms in a manner strongly reminiscent of one of her middle-grade students. She cracked a smile, but refrained from sharing her comment when she noticed the expression on his age and sun creased face. Sighing, Zahra pushed aside a strand of hair clinging to her cheek, and gazed intently at Marvin, squinting as the setting sun framed his form in a soft glowing aura.

“Things aren’t always more than they seem. You know that, right?” She said, searching his face for some kind of affirmation. “Sometimes a storm is just a storm. Dangerous, but nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

Her response was greeted with silence. Zahra tilted her head slightly and placed a hand on Marvin’s arm. “This isn’t Haven,” she said. “We’ll be alright.”

And they were. Before the Council had issued the official order to begin preparations, the small town rattled with the sound of metal against wood as residents boarded up windows and carried armfuls of emergency rations to the shelter. The storm came two days later, as anticipated, tearing through the trees and fields, overflowing the network of streams that divided Elmsted from the rest of the forest. Zahra sat crowded in the storm shelter with some of her younger students sitting on her lap and clinging to her arms, closing her eyes as the world shook above, seemingly never-ceasing. Hours passed, then days. Her ears rung with the crying of children and the songs led by parents and grandparents, desperate to provide a distraction. And suddenly, the shaking stopped.

The storm was predictable. What came after was not.

She heard them before she could see them. An incessant buzzing coming from the fields and the horrified shouts of the tenders. Shielding her still-light-sensitive eyes from the morning sun, she raced towards the sound, Marvin by her side. A cloud of fog hovered over the fields, but she could make out a couple of tenders who were batting fruitlessly at the crops. Meena, who Zahra knew as the parent of one of her students, had dropped into a crouch and placed her face in her hands.

“We can’t get rid of them,” Meena told the others without changing her position. “There’s too many.”

With a flash of realization, Zahra felt her chest fill with dread. There was no fog. Marvin looked at her in shock-stricken horror. Thousands upon thousands of tiny black insects descended cloud-like upon the crops, shrouding the fields in a sea of relentlessly moving parts.

……………​

Present day

Camp Principios was unlike anything Zahra had ever seen before. Strangers mingled freely, passing drinks and stories without a hint of reservation, gladly sharing their life’s history as if they had known one another for years. She watched a grey-haired old woman with a half-chipped front tooth down an entire pint of beer as a small crowd of red-faced men drunkenly cheered her on, and observed in amusement as a scrawny chicken flopped with astonishing speed away from a one-eared dog and into the busy trading grounds, nearly toppling a man painstakingly laying out his goods. There were so many scenes unfolding around her that she didn’t even know where to begin to look. From her seat at the fire pit, she felt inconsequential.

“I wonder why they call it Camp Principios,” Angel inquired, pulling absentmindedly at his arrow-less bow string as his dark eyes fell upon a group of travelers arguing bitterly over an incidence of cheating in a card game. “Principios means values in Spanish, but the folks here don’t seem particularly moralistic to me.”

“That’s because they don’t intend it to be Spanish, kid,” Marvin replied curtly, picking his teeth with a rabbit bone. “It’s Latin. Means ‘beginning,” he huffed in half-amusement. “Though, judging by the shape of things, they’ll be calling it Camp Finis in no time.” Zahra threw the broken remains of her own meal at him.

“We came here for help, Marvin. The least you can do is refrain from making nerd jokes that no one else finds funny,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Oh, you know you liked it. You’re not as unreadable as you think.” Zahra glared at him. “And we would have found this Wright fellow already if Hawkeye here hadn’t instituted his stomach as the top priority.” Angel let go of the bow string, staring at it intently as it reverberated in a blur of white.

“For an old man, you can be a downright child sometimes,” she said mildly, and gestured at Angel to follow her.

“Where are you going?” Marvin asked, setting down the bone.

“To find someone who can tell us where Mr. Wright is,” Zahra called back, before heading further back into the camp with Angel by her side.

 

[Feyrie]

[class=container] --accent-1: #b58d7d; --image: url(https://i.imgur.com/ykseoTF.png); --time: 15s; [/class] [div class=credit][/div][div class=credit2 style="display: none;"]code + design by @constellation[/div] [class=credit]position: absolute; top: 0px; left: 0px; font-size: 15px; color: #b2e0e0; transition: 1s;[/class] [class=credit2]position: absolute; z-index: 2; top: 5px; left: 15px; max-width: 160px; margin: 15px; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; font-weight: 500; text-transform: lowercase; padding: 25px 30px; color: #333; border: 1px solid #e2e2e2; background: white;[/class] [class name="credit" state="hover"]cursor: url(https://66.media.tumblr.com/6fb38fc5e97353c67e3fc3a2e2b29bf9/tumblr_inline_ol4nwisGdu1uxxza6_75sq.png), auto!important; color: #A0C9C9; transitions: 1s;[/class] [script class=credit on=mouseenter]fadeIn 1000 credit2[/script][script class=credit on=mouseleave]fadeOut 1000 credit2[/script]

[div class=container][div class=border][div class=name]Eva Kane

[div class=role]the thief[/div] [div class=image][/div] [div class=textbox][div class=scroll] From about the fifty individuals that made up Camp Principios about twenty percent came from the Kane Group. Ten of them were Eva Kane, her brother Kyle and the people under their family that came with them. They came about about three months ago to Camp Principios as Nigel Wight spread the word in order to invite travelers into taking refuge in their camp. The group came in order to seek temporary shelter while they had their own plans in mind. They immediately started on the wrong foot with the rest of camp when they shamelessly set their own conditions for staying in camp. It brought public outrage. However, they remained impassive. It wasn’t as though they necessarily needed the camp to survive- having their own capability to survive but they needed a temporary base to stay in. They had considered Camp Principios suitable. Kyle Kane ended up negotiating with the Camp Leader Nigel Wright. No one knew specifically what came out from the pair’s discussion except themselves but in the end, they came to an agreement. The group mostly kept to themselves and rarely interacted with outsiders. Many others preferred it that way. There was something shady about them in the first place that literally spelled out that they were bad news. It wasn’t as though they cared about what other people thought about in the first place and therefore, never bothered to clarify the rumors about them. The truth behind the reason they came was the fact they were creating a map. This was exactly what they were doing. As years of disasters occurred and changes happened to their ecosystem, any remaining maps would have become faulty. However, this was not to state that they were the first to attempt in building a map that was relevant to their time which was crucial in finding resources. But there was something different between them and those who attempted before. The difference was: Eva Kane. The maps they made were naturally much more detailed than the ones made before. There would also be exact measurements of the distance of each location and the flora and fauna found there. This was all made possible due to her unique abilities. It was needless to say, the impact this map would hold in the future when it becomes completed. However, bringing this map into fruition was an arduous task as the person who was crucial for it was also extremely difficult. It was laborious in coaxing Eva into doing them and eventually turning them part of her schedule. Some days, she simply wouldn’t be in the mood and throw tantrums. The preparation for the trip that led them to Camp Principios was not easy, both physically and mentally but necessary for the expansion of the map in order to widen the range. The day before yesterday was one of their scheduled days in scouting the area with the camp as the center or core. They would venture bit by bit while they scavenge for resources at the same time. This may have been the reason behind why she sat bent knees, looking curiously on the ground. From where she was, she was a few ways from the berry hut. Eva was an unusual sight. No one can really know what she was thinking asides from those in their group. “Three hundred eighteen…… twenty…. twenty-four…” she mumbles softly under her breath, watching ants for a line- carrying the small crumbs of food that was approximately twice larger than them. In her otherwise expressionless face, there was a slight crease on her forehead. “Noisy.” She grumbled. It was far much noisier compared to usual, she flicked her vision upwards. She sees a male relaying instructions- finding the cause of her disruption, she immediately loses interest in him. But her attention immediately shifted once she came across an unfamiliar face. In her mind, she goes through her memory if she ever had seen the unfamiliar stranger before. Her eyes narrow, pursing her lips slightly. Her brother had come by, to check on her. A soft expression of concern, which was only exclusive for her, graced in his normally sharp features. “Eva? Is there something wrong?” He had asked. She tilted her chin further to look at him, shaking her head in reply then returned back to counting the ants “Three hundred eighty… eighty two…”. Since she didn’t say anything further, he decided not to dwell on it any longer. [/div][/div] [div class=info][div class=text]MOOD: counting. LOCATON: along ways of the berry hut. TAGS: ebb .[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=container] width: 450px; height: 630px; margin: auto; cursor: url(https://66.media.tumblr.com/232c090ebdd37ae4bc17adb54e1e0344/tumblr_inline_ol4nwhvSwg1uxxza6_75sq.png), auto!important; [/class] [class=border] position: absolute; width: 450px; height: 630px; background: #f1f1f1; margin: 0 auto; border: 1px solid #ccc; [/class] [class=name] position: relative; top: 20px; line-height: 80%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; font: 27px Abril Fatface; color: #333; text-transform: uppercase; [/class] [class=role] display: inline-block; position: relative; top: 15px; left: 50%; transform: translateX(-50%); line-height: 80%; margin: 0 auto; text-align: center; font: 9px Verdana; background: var(--accent-1); padding: 5px; color: #fff; text-transform: uppercase; [/class] [class=image] position: absolute; top: 90px; left: 0; height: 160px; width: 450px; background: var(--image); background-size: cover; background-position: center; -webkit-clip-path: polygon(100% 0, 100% 100%, 0% 100%, 0 0, 50% 12%); clip-path: polygon(100% 0, 100% 100%, 0% 100%, 0 0, 50% 12%); [/class] [class=info] position: absolute; bottom: 0; left: 0; height: 30px; width: 440px; padding: 0px 5px; font: 11px Verdana; background: var(--accent-1); color: #fff; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 28px; white-space: nowrap; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class=text] display: inline-block; padding-left: calc(100% + 5px); animation: {post_id}marquee var(--time) linear infinite; [/class] [class=textbox] position: absolute; left: 0; top: 250px; width: 433px; height: 316px; overflow-x: hidden; font-size: 12px; white-space: pre-line; line-height: 125%; padding: 17px 0px 17px 17px; [/class] [class=scroll] width: 100%; height: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; padding-right: 17px; text-align: justify; color: #333; [/class] [animation=marquee] [keyframe=0] transform: translate(0, 0); [/keyframe] [keyframe=100] transform: translate(-100%, 0); [/keyframe] [/animation]

 

[Storme]

[class=variables] --accent: #052973; --image: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/fe/f7/b3/fef7b3ea2fc1eecef69e1a806e79d1b9.jpg'); [/class] [div class=variables] [div class=bkg] [div class=sidebar][/div] [div class=header]Willow Locke[/div] [div class=post][div class=scroll] One foot in front of the other, find someone in charge, and go from there. It wasn't the most inspiring or poetic mantra, but it was helping nonetheless. There was one other walking into what was hopefully going to be their new home, a boy who appeared only a few years older than her. It had been so long since Willow had actually gotten to see so many people in one place at one time that her heart felt like it was beating a thousand miles a minute. She'd only been around her mother growing up so the presence of all these strangers around her had her jumpy and on edge. "Find the person in charge, find the person in charge...." Willow muttered absentmindedly, eyes cast in an intense downward gaze upon the ground in front of her almost as if she were afraid it was going to fall out from under her and swallow her whole. She took a deep breath and forced herself to think of more productive thoughts, like recalling her mothers advice on interacting with others. Rule 1: Be Cautious. Struggling to survive can bring out the worst in people. Willow forced her eyes up from the ground and scanned her surroundings. Dehydration, fatigue and the first signs of starvation were evident on the faces and in the body language of the people who seemed to be making preparations for an event of sorts. She watched as another boy put the one she'd been trailing absentmindedly behind to work on something that resembled a lantern. Her head tilted curiously at the sight, even more so at the handful of lanterns that was shoved into her arms. "O-okay..."She stammered, thrown by how fast she'd already been incorporated into the workflow of the camp. After a moment of holding the fragile paper lanterns, Willow came to her senses. What had just happened? So many missing steps and the lack of any type of introduction had Willow feeling as if she were struggling to stay put in the strong current that was Camp Principios. She'd only heard snippets of talk of the camp here and there on her travels, but had never gotten the nerve to actually pursue it. But now that she was here, she had so many questions. Like what was the occasion for the lanterns, where was the head guy in charge - this Nigel person she'd heard so much about (after her mother died, she avoided people like the plague but became good at eavesdropping on the conversations of those she passed by), where were things located around camp, and more importantly what kind of protection did they have from the storms? Her mind raced with questions as she hurried after the boy who'd handed her the lanterns, passing by a wildly disheveled man in the process , taking mental note of his condition and of possible treatments. "Excuse me. My name is Willow Locke."Her voice was cold and clear, a little more than a hint of annoyance ringing in her voice. Willow's gaze was tense; mostly because while she wanted to be useful to the camp, she felt she couldn't do so without following her own personal steps. She was annoyed because the boy had thrown her off from her objective and had done things so out of order. "First, who's in charge? Second, where's the meal pit that these belong to? And third, which should have been first on your list, who are you?"She said, taking a deep breath afterwards to steel herself for his response and to regain her much needed breath after spewing her slew of questions. She hadn't intended to come off as rude or condescending, but the shape that man was in earlier and the obvious exhaustion written on everyones faces had her itching to start searching for resources and alternatives to help put the pep back in everyones step. Willow was, though, pleasantly surprised to see that those working around her seemed in generally positive spirits despite the circumstances; she even heard distant laughter, which was a sound she'd rarely heard nowadays. "A-and fourth, what exactly are these lanterns for anyway?" She asked, her previous fire extinguished and she was left feeling a bit awkward for her earlier boldness. . [/div][/div] [div class=tagbar] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]interactions[/div]
Avery, the Diplomat[/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]tags[/div]
ebb [/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]location[/div]
Camp Principios[/div] [div class=tagcont][div class=tag]mood[/div]
impatient, awkward[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]

fated

[class=bkg] height: 475px; width: 555px; background: #ededed; margin: auto; cursor: url('http://i.imgur.com/ZOrzC.png'), auto !important; [/class] [class=sidebar] height: 445px; width: 100px; position: relative; left: 10px; top: 15px; background: var(--image); background-size: cover; background-position: center center; [/class] [class=header] font-size: 30px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: Abril Fatface; color: var(--accent); width: max-content; position: relative; left: 125px; top: -440px; [/class] [class=post] width: 320px; height: 410px; font-family: Inter; color: black; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify; position: relative; left: 125px; top: -440px; white-space: pre-wrap; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class=scroll] overflow-y: scroll; overflow-x: hidden; width: 100%; height: 100%; padding-right: 25px; [/class] [class=tagbar] height: 410px; width: 100px; position: relative; left: 445px; top: -850px; display: flex; justify-content: space-evenly; flex-direction: column; font-family: Inter; color: black; font-size: 12px; text-align: center; [/class] [class=tagcont] height: max-content; width: 100px; position: relative; [/class] [class=tag] font-family: Abril Fatface; color: var(--accent); font-size: 13px; text-align: center; display: inline; [/class]

 

[Semblance]

Luca Perez

Location: Camp Principios| Interactions: Willow, the strange man| Mentions: Storme ebb

For the past seven years, Luca had been traveling alone, never stopping for too long in one spot. After his sister's gruesome death, his previous fervor for the spiritual world around him was squashed. Instead, he turned his energy towards his physical world, an environment he could touch and see, rather than an abstract world of spirits that had abandoned him. Luca was fascinated by all the different types of metal machinery he stumbled upon, now covered with rust and vines. He always sought to take the pieces apart and try to figure out how a certain piece of machine worked, particularly abandoned automobiles. Each place, each person, each new discovery was jotted down in detail into his journal. Over time, he had accumulated bits and pieces of connecting drawings that eventually led to somewhat of a slapstick map, albeit there were still question marks and many unknown regions.

As the natural disasters grew worse, Luca stumbled upon Camp Prinicipios when he was out scavenging for berries one day and bumped into a patrol from the camp a few weeks ago. Carrying more of a "why not?" mentality, he followed the group back to the camp, where he was introduced to Nigel Wright. Like most camps, there were a series of rules and procedures that all members had to follow, but Luca liked to think of them as "loose guidelines" instead.

He had heard that there were festivities at the camp tonight to honor the deaths of lost loved ones. Like the camp of animists that he grew up in, Luca was used to ceremonies honoring the dead. He had participated in almost every kind of these ceremonies throughout his travels, as each organized camp generally held something like this to keep up morale. Personally, he couldn't care much for these ceremonies, especially since he knew that Avery would be at the center of all the planning, trying to suck up to all the camp leaders. Sure enough, Luca rolled his eyes as he saw Avery enter the medical tent where he had just seen Nigel enter a few moments before.

As he entered the camp, a terrible stench caught his attention. His sharp amber eyes settled on a trembling man soaked with rain, his eyes wide and ridden with fear. The man let out a cough that seemed to shatter his entire body apart, causing a ten foot radius to form around him as people backed off from the sickly-looking man. Luca didn't recognize him, but he certainly didn't seem like he was okay. He took a step towards him. "Sir," he called out. "Do you need any help?" he asked. He remembered a girl named Willow he had just met a few days ago. Everyone had told him about what great medical skills she possessed. Luca's eyes scanned the camp to find Willow talking with Avery by the lantern hut. "I'll be right back," he told the man.

Luca jogged across the camp towards the girl with the curly brunette hair. "Hey, Willow, right?" he asked as he got close, not bothering to look at Avery. "I think the man over there might need some help," he said, pointing to the black-clad shaking man, still looking around wildly with fear driven eyes and letting out successive coughs. "I've heard about your medical abilities," he added.

 

[quadratis]

NIGEL WRIGHT

the FOUNDER

Staring intently at the inordinate surroundings, the poorly made huts, tall lines meant to be trees, and the strange holes in the ground; just what was this place? Was this Camp Principios?

"Nigel Wright! The man who started it all!" Startled by the unfamiliar person who called his name, Nigel kissed the damp forehead of his youngest, before turning away from her crafting station. The highly esteemed man was somewhat handsome for a forty something year old. With his dark coils atop of his head, a five o'clock shadow, and a striking pair of light brown eyes. The Founder of Camp Principios nearly rendered the approaching man speechless for a moment; what an intense gaze.

Standing up to greet the unfamiliar fellow, Nigel Wright had locked eyes with another man to which he had not known, nor met before now. To be recognized, well, this would once give him a sense of pride, especially since Wright had gotten so far with Camp Principios in ways that many hadn't thought possible. However, now it was just somewhat taxing to be recognized, and sought after by strangers; hence why he began to rely on Avery Mauntell more-so. In fact, where was he exactly? He had needed to speak to him about a matter of great importance.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Nigel asked, declining the offer to shake hands. Standing tall at a swooping height of six feet even, Nigel took two long strides to the petite gentleman with an amiable smile on his face. The two walked and talked, greeting the camp with smiles, head bobs, and laughter. In spite of all of his efforts, Nigel could see how drained these people were, and as he listened to this man… He wasn't sure what it was that made him all the more sorry for the way they have all turned out to be. Was it the story about a forlorn background that he was all too familiar with, or the uncanny hardships he had similarly been through – much like everyone else. Tired of listening to these depressing stories, Nigel found himself quickly ushering the man to get to the real reason he was interrupted during the filial fatherly hours he had dedicated to his daughter. Of course, the questions hit him like a wrecking ball:

• What do you have planned? Do you plan on making this place an official colony? A village? A town? A city? A capital?​

• Does the Founder of Camp Principios want to make history? A permanent lineage of sorts for his future legacy?​

And then finally…

• What do we do about the food shortages?​

Much to his dismay, the man was sent off with very little answers to his questions, further deepening the stress that fell upon everyone's shoulders. It wasn't like this always, but for the past two and a half weeks, the number of people have increased significantly, and they were met with a lot of people who would come to take rations and leave without supplying the camp any sort of benefit. This wasn't what he had expected, in all honesty, for he had hope in the dying race that is Humanity. However, like his mother once said, people have only ever been concerned about themselves, and this was written into humanities history for thousands of years.

With an exhausted sigh, Nigel fought the urge to run his hand across his face as he walked into the medical tent to check on the number of people that were seeking medical assistance. Most of everyone was fighting the common cold, or were they allergies? Some even suffering from what was dehydration and possibly sinuses, although he wasn't all too sure. He hasn't come across any books that would educate him further on the matter itself. Checking on the eleven patients, Nigel took mental note of all of their symptoms as they had explained to him what they were suffering from. Most of them simply struggling with the weather and how it was affecting them emotionally.

If only they had more resources, more information, more knowledge. Old World Sciences were out of his current spectrum of knowledge. In fact, Old World Sciences were out of everyone's current spectrum of knowledge. Although Nigel had plans to change that, for it was all just a matter of time.

Passing time double checking the medical tent inventory, Nigel hadn't noticed Avery entering, or the young woman that followed him. Little did he know that all of Camp Principios was whispering about the deranged fellow who was stumbling his way with a problem that would soon introduce them to new ailments and the stench of death.

Mood | Concerned
Location | Medical Tent, Camp Principios close to the Archery Range
Time | 12:37PM [Timezone Unknown]
Interaction(s) | ebb Feyrie @neon reverie Semblance Storme Widget

 

[Storme]

Willow Locke

• — 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝.
• 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.—

• 
  
  Willow stared at the other boy blankly , it taking a moment to register that he was talking to her. In her recent few weeks in the camp, she'd kept mostly to herself along the outskirts of where everyone was gathered. Willow had only helped out with a few upset stomachs and scraped knees but apparently that was enough to warrant her with a reputation; her cheeks flushed in sudden embarrassment at how disconnected with the rest of the camp she was. Years of traveling through this hellish landscape on her own had dulled some of her people skills (not that she had had much to begin with), so situations like this made her anxious especially when more and more people kept appearing in the tent. She felt her pulse quicken as panic started to set in, Willow began taking deep breaths and started organizing the recent play of events in her mind in order to decipher where she should start as far as reactions and responses. The man who referred to her by name seemed like a good start, though things were a bit tense from the start seeing as she was terrible with names and faces.
  
  "The man ov--"Her eyes traveled in the direction from where the other man had came from and her brow furrowed. It was the sickly man from before, the one who gave her a creepy crawly feeling all over her body. "I'm not a miracle worker..... " She murmured apologetically, casting her gaze to her feet. She also had a hunch that the man could possibly be carrying an ailment or disease that could easily pass from one to another so she wasn't going to voluntarily come in contact with him if she didn't have to, Willow had always had a good eye for these things since she was a child. She'd been able to spot a sick animal almost immediately during her time in the forest with her mother, sparing them food poisoning on many occasion.
  
  The entrance of a tall man with an air of authority pulled her mind off the ill and instead it started forming a steady stream of questions throughout her mind. Was he the man in charge? Like more in charge than the boy who had been calling out directions? What was his plan for the Camp? And food and water? How much longer can they survive on what they currently have? Is this really the time to be holding an event? All these questions were swirling around his head like a tornado, but they were all shut down by the look in his eyes. This was a tired man, a person who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and the last thing he wanted was to let anyone know the entirety of that strain. So alas she remained silent, not wanting to say the wrong thing by accident to the person who appeared to be trying his best with their current resources.
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  location. Camp Principios
  mood. Wary
  tags. quadratis Semblance