Fantasy There’s Something Strange in our Neck of the Woods

[Coyote]

JUNE 22ND, 2017
Sergeant Marlowe stares onward while standing at the gated entrance to the woods. The campers for CAMP PROPER were told to be here at 9 am sharp. He checked his watch. 8:37. Not a single soul had arrived yet. 23 minutes. That's all that stood between these new campers, and hell on the first day. Stanley stood next to him wearing a white collar shirt and pants. He adjusted his glasses and continued looking through the binder full of papers containing information on each of the campers that would be attending CAMP PROPER. That and expenses, schedules, and all sorts of stuff Stanley was getting paid minimum wage for. In that moment, a girl wearing exorbitant amounts of black walks up to them, carrying a box of t-shirts endemic to CAMP PROPER. They were a dark green and the camp's logo on the back, to be handed out when the campers arrived. Sergeant Marlowe, himself wore one of the shirts albeit it was a little small on him. The girl took out her phone and leaned up against the railing to the entrance.
"Jane, what did I tell you about using your phone."
"I wasn't aware that there was a rule about phones."
"Actually in the camper's manual, page 4 has all the rules about phone usage. It says there's-"
"Whatever... I better get a raise for it." Marlowe glares at Jane. "It was just a joke," she put her phone away and crossed her arms with a huff.
"Stanley, did you check the fuse box like I said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. We can't have another outage," Marlowe checked his watch again. 8:40 am.

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Francis was a wreck of horror as his mother drove him to the camp. He felt so betrayed and surprised, despite reminding himself that his mother had often treated him in a less than respectful fashion and that he should have seen this coming.
"Francis! You'd better wake up!" shouted Sabina Sato, once again not even checking to see if he was asleep in that car, or even seeming to understand a reason why she wanted him awake.
"Mom, I'm awake," Francis hissed, looking away from his window and the scenery it revealed.
"Good, 'cause we're almost there."

Soon enough, they saw the sign for CAMP PROPER, and Francis felt like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his stomach. There would be no turning back, no running away, and no option but to face this situation.
He didn't know if he hoped he would be among those like-minded to him, for if he was then it would mean undeserving people would be in the same situation. However, he didn't want to be among actual criminals or anybody like that.

Pulling the older SUV into the parking lot, Mrs. Sato then parked it in one of the spaces available.
"We're here," she said cheerily, as though she hadn't just been yelling at her son, and as though he were being dropped off at a summer camp that wasn't supposed to be for delinquents.
"What time is it, anyway?" Francis asked, containing his ill feelings, "We're supposed to be there at what time?"
"Nine O'clock. And it's almost time. Now come on, Francis. We'd better get going."
They left the car with belongings in hand, Francis in particular keeping a tight grip on his sketchbook and a binder that contained printed-out song lyrics, and they went to the gate where Sargent Marlowe stood.
"Hello," Francis's mother said, "This is Francis. We're here for the camp."
Francis himself could barely speak, and try as he might to look at Sargent Marlowe's face, Francis was too nervous to lift his head higher than enough to see the man's shoulders.

 

[laceanddoodles]

Fyn's car ride was great. She loved road trips, and the drive out from Portland was always a scenic one. It was just her and her dad, chatting and singing along to the radio, and occasionally workshopping a few lyrics here and there on the song she was working on. Good stuff. And now, they were approaching camp. She knew she shouldn't be, but Winnifyn was actually pretty excited for CAMP PROPER. Sure, it was almost a boot camp, but seven weeks in the woods sounded like a good time, regardless of why she was there.

She was there because of her grades, inattentiveness, and general... weirdness. She never did fit in well in a school environment. She had a few really good friends, but generally came across as an awkward, maladjusted, altogether unusual young lady. Which suited her fine. If somebody called her weird, she usually just shot back a 'well yeah, I'm an autistic fourteen year old amateur botanist and singer/songwriter who was raised by neo-pagan witches. What did you expect?'

Once they pulled into the drive, under the big sign, Fyn was already in motion. She leapt out of the car almost before it pulled to a stop, flinging the trunk open and grabbing her guitar case, throwing the strap around her shoulders so the case rested comfortably on her back. She grabbed her duffle-bag and spun herself in a complete circle, taking in her surroundings. Miles and miles of forest. Perfect.

She saw a kid and his mom with a gruff looking guy that looked like the Sargent she'd seen on the website. With a grin, and a jerk of her head to beckon her dad to follow, she marched right up to the trio.

"Hi!" she said, "I'm Winnifyn Kennedy! Where do I go to get checked in?"

 

[Farmgirl310]

Tyler gazed out the window imagining himself at the point of no return. His mother frantically drove, they were late and his mother hated being late.
Music blared through his headphones drowning out his mothers nagging once more . The thought the only good thing about this trip was not having to hear his mother’s complaining.
His duffel bag sat on his lap, straps In hand as they pulled infront of the camp. His mother and him said a quick goodbye and off he went in the doors.
8:59 exactly . Early he thought to himself knowing he was “on time”

 

[Malozing]

As Jenn Myers drove down the road leading to the drive of Camp PROPER, her sister Ashley Henderson seethed in the front passenger seat. Due to a big baseball game happening today, Abe opted not to see his son off, and Jenn wanted company on the drive back home. From the backseat, music blared from the headphones resting around Jay's neck.

"Jenn, I hope this camp destroys that blasted Walkman when he is checked-in," Ashley hissed through grinding teeth.

Jay laughed as deep as he could. "Oh, Auntie. Walkmans died out well before I was born." He leaned back and rested a foot on the middle console just to annoy Ashley even more. "It's all about premium streaming apps and expensive smartphones. Ah, the joys of material greed."

"Jay, stop harassing Aunt Ashley, please. We're here," Jenn let out of sigh as she spoke. "I honestly don't see what you enjoy in his music choices, but honestly, if we take his music away, he would act out more, Ash."

As his mother slid their small hatchback between an SUV and another car, the vehicle's clock read 8:55 AM. Jay added 2 minutes automatically and cursed aloud.

"Uh, Only if she can not spend fifteen minutes on her hair at every rest stop. Now, I gotta hurry!"

The green-haired teen hopped out of the car, dragging his backpack and large duffle bag out with him. Music still played loudly from around his neck, and he rushed over to the rough, military-looking man. His overly stuffed duffle bumped into a cheery younger girl. He muttered a quiet, "Sorry."

He dropped the offending bag onto the ground before mockingly saluting to Sgt. Marlowe. "Sorry for cutting it close. My aunt had to visit the powder room every time we stopped to get gas."

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Francis's mother seemed to be caught off-guard by Winnifyn's interruption, and her son was also surprised.
Francis prayed that his mother would be, as usual in situations like this, more level-headed than she was when Francis was at home. If she went off on some stranger, especially someone he'd be going to camp with, then he'd be absolutely mortified and wracked with vicarious guilt.
Luckily, Sabina looked back at the sergeant when she got over her surprise, and didn't look away at the further interruptions.
Francis smiled at the girl and the boy, hoping it would be some reassurance. He knew he was prone to interrupting people too, whether he was even superficially aware of it or he was told that he was, and that he didn't usually mean any harm by it. Winnifyn and the boy didn't seem to mean any harm either.

 

[Lua]

The drive over had been quiet. Too quiet - the kind of cliche quiet people experienced in movies or TV shows. This was real life - or as real as it got outside of the internet. Reggie and his father had hardly spoken two works to each other on the four hour car ride. Reggie thought his fathers knuckles were going to turn blue from how he gripped the steering wheel. Figures - it was just another inconvenience for him. Eventually, Reggie had reached to turn on the radio - keeping it at a low volume on one of the pre-set stations.
His mother had hugged him before he left, a tight hug that was followed by a small smile. She was confused, clearly. Her son - so smart and good with computers, the one who had the future of an engineer or computer scientist was going away to the 'bad kids' camp with others who didn't know the difference between right and wrong - those who didn't know which way to look before crossing the street because their mom smacked them once or something. Reggie knew the difference - the key was to not get caught while preforming your own antics; and he hated himself for his failures - almost hating himself more that his mother had found out. His father was a different story.
Reggie hadn't INTENTIONALLY set out to ruin his fathers business - but he also hadn't intended on getting caught. A few banking numbers there, a social security number here; who would have thought his father ran such a tight technological ship in regards to privacy and security. "I could have called the feds on you, you know." was the threat Reggie has gotten from him, over and over and over again. Then the school had to get involved, and it was all downhill from there. So much for being a computer scientist. At least before he had left, his friends Marc and Penny promised to take good care of all his hard-drives and other doo-dads. It wouldn't be long before he was back home again, up to the same antics most likely. Only this time, there wouldn't be any getting caught.
A small crowd had formed when the car screeched to a halt in front of a sign that read "Camp Proper." Reggie groaned. This was it - he was done for. He'd have to bother with these kids for several weeks - only to hope that his father didn't decide to leave him there. He was off to a good start, considering they were way behind schedule with the initial drop off. Reggie looked towards his father with pleading eyes.
"Don't test me. The trunk is open." The man said, eyes still facing front. Reggie didn't argue, only sighed and unbuckled his seat-belt, swinging open the car door and making his way to the trunk. He pulled out his backpack and duffel bag - closing the trunk with a BANG. His father hit the floor, taking off back in the direction that they had came from. Reggie wondered if he would be missed.
He surveyed the others with narrow eyes, scanning the small crowd - eventually landing on the older gentleman who seemed to be in charge. He made his way over slowly, kicking a pebble or two as he did so. The worst part so far seemed to be that there were uniforms for everyone. So much for packing an array of outfits. Out in the woods following orders from someone who made everyone wear the same thing - would it really be as bad as he thought? After all, the school recommended it.
Pfft. Reggie rolled his eyes, letting his bags fall with a thud. His hands instinctively went into his pockets, right hand wrapping tightly around his phone. Would he be allowed to use it? He wouldn't be surprised if otherwise. Was there a computer around here somewhere? The teen looked around at the group once more, before lowering his head - eyes focusing on the laces of his shoes.
Yes, it was going to be a long few weeks indeed.

 

[baggysack]

There was a sick crunch. The sticking, sucking of a fist into flesh -- like meat. Hold the pose. And then the bad-guy went flying, a spray of viscera from his mouth and nose -- a close-up of that, too -- and then the muscled main character posing with flamboyant masculinity. The subtitles read--

Cheslea wiped milk off the screen -- took a screenshot, for good measure. Sent it to Lav, who absolutely wouldn't spoil the shit out of what happened next, else she'd do the same to him.

Something led the girl to glance across the kitchen. Right across a crucifix pinned to the wall and a calender with today's date circled, the time read, eight-thirty-seven. And she went, "Shit," before she could catch herself, already mid-run to the sink. She dumped her half-finished cereal; she ran to the mirror to check her appearance, then decided she didn't care; she dashed back to grab her backpack lying limp beside the counter; she opened the front door and yelled behind her, up the stairs. "Auntie-- camp!"

Where was that coot, anyway?

And Cheslea jogged down the street, ready to wave down the city bus. Crunching the numbers, she probably wouldn't make it on-time, somewhere between nine-o'-three to nine-o'-five. That was unless God interfered; it'd be a good time. He never had before, though.

cartoons and cereal
couple miles away

 

[Coyote]

Sergeant Marlowe slid his arms behind his back and watched a kid ( StrixDesmodus ) and his mother approach him. Stanley stood upright next to him with his arms by his sides.
"Francis, eh? Stand upright, kid, make yourself presentable," Marlowe said, knitting his eyebrows together. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs..."
"Sato," Stanley chimed in.
"Sato!" Marlowe extended his hand courteously to the mother in greeting. Stanley opened up his binder to a list of the campers' names and checked off Francis'. In the midst of all this, Jane had taken out her phone again and resumed her earlier activities. Suddenly, a girl ( laceanddoodles ) bumped into Francis and Sabrina. She greeted them enthusiastically and asked where to check in.
"Winnifyn! Good to see you again. I'll check you in right now," Stanley said, checking off her name as well.
"Jane, why don't you get some camp shirts for these two?" Marlowe smiled at Mrs. Sato as he waited. No shirts came. Sergeant Marlowe cleared his throat loudly. Jane looked up and realized she was needed. She quickly put her phone away and reached into the box of shirts, grabbing two random ones and bringing them over.
"Here. Welcome to CAMP PROPER," Jane droned with tired eyes.
"What did I say about welcoming campers?" he added. Jane rolled her eyes and stood up straight, giving a halfhearted salute before walking back to the rusty metal railing that made up the gate into the woods.

Next came two boys, the first of which had green-hair ( Malozing ). Marlowe watched him disapprovingly as he apologized for nearly being late.
"Nothing to be sorry for except for the salad you have on your head called hair. Have that washed by sundown," Marlowe commanded before turning to the other kid ( Farmgirl310 ). "With just a minute to spare, your highness, Boy Band Ripoff has arrived! Pick up your pace kid or take a hike," Marlowe called out to him. It didn't seem like he was shouting but lord was the volume of his voice raised to an 11. Stanley checked off both of their names quietly. Marlowe was in a foul mood and whenever he was upset, even a whisper sounds like its coming out of a speaker.

The clock struck 9 and Marlowe looked at Sabrina Sato. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Sato. I will see you in August with a son who's ready to go out into the world and put his best foot forward," Marlowe put his hand on Francis' shoulder and shook him playfully, but... well, aggressively. He bid farewell and then spotted a lonesome boy ( Lua ) standing in the back. "Who's that?" Marlowe looked at Stanley. The kid scanned the list of names before finding what he was looking for.
"Uhh... Reggie Collins. Should I sign him in?" Stanley asked. Marlowe shook his head.
"I'm going to let Humpty Dumpty introduce himself when he feels like it. Until then, don't sign him in. Consider him late," the sergeant said before settling his eyes on the group. He cleared his throat.

"GATHER 'ROUND FOLKS," Marlowe boomed. He saluted firmly. Stanley quickly followed suit but dropped his pen. The teen quickly knelt down and plucked it from the ground. "WELCOME TO CAmp pro-" Marlowe trailed off as he watched a bus stop by the nearby station and a girl ( baggysack ) hopped off and ran towards the group.
"Chels-"
"I don't give a hair on a rat's ass who she is," Marlowe looks at the girl as she approaches. "Young lady. Let me make something clear to you. If I were a wizard, I would resurrect my dear Nana who died at the ripe old age of 92 from a heart attack. My zombified grandmother would have gotten here early enough to make her and I a cup of tea and sing me a lullaby before your pathetic feet carried you here. And she's PARALYZED from waist down!" the sergeant looked at the other campers.

"When I say 9 o'clock. That means 9 o'clock. Do I make myself clear, or do I need to give you all some extra curricular activities to be sure?" Marlowe glared at them. Jane watched and snickered at the group while Stanley smiled nervously beside him. When the campers gave their understanding, Marlowe turned around and began walking into the forest. "If you don't already have a shirt, grab one now and follow me. Jane, bring back the box when they're done."
"Yes, sir," she said.

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Francis adjusted his posture, though still avoided looking at Sergeant Marlowe. He instead diverted his attention to the other campers.
Mrs. Sato shook Sergeant Marlowe's hand.
"It's good to meet you too," She replied to him.
When Sergeant Marlowe shook Francis's shoulder, it startled him a little, making him jump.
"You behave yourself, Francis, ok?" Mrs. Sato said softly, "Have a good time at camp, and bye!"
Mrs. Sato waved, Francis waving back as she left for the car.
Another camper soon came into Francis's sight a moment after he stopped waving, and this camper, apparently named Chelsea, had immediately gotten a rather bizarre opprobrium. Francis's odd sense of humor tempted him to smile at Sergeant Marlowe's interesting choice of words, but he figured that this Chelsea kid probably didn't deserve to be yelled at like that. Therefore, Francis's face contorted into a crooked expression.

 

[Malozing]

"Nothing to be sorry for except for the salad you have on your head called hair. Have that washed by sundown,"

Jay gritted his teeth and let his hand drop from the salute. His fingers pulled down a lock of his neon lime green hair for him to look at. "Damn. I just touched up the dye last week." He lingered at the back of the group, waiting for the others to get their shirts. Looking at the box, Jay decided to ask Jane a question. "Um, Jane, was it? Is it okay if I take more than one shirt? Like two more?"

He grabbed the one shirt he was required. If Jane doesn't object, Jay stuffed the two extra shirts into the already overfull duffle before following the rest of the group, his headphones continuing to play music. However, a new song had started up.

 

[Farmgirl310]

Tyler huffed at sergeants comment “ Boy band my ass “ he said under his breath and then trailed in his thoughts maybe a off brand NSYNC .. but damn that was uncalled for.
Tyler adjusted his duffel bag over his shoulder and grudgingly dragged his feet to go join this sorry bunch of losers. He quietly assed each and every one as he was sure they were doing to him.
The kid with the green hair seemed liked he’d be cool to talk to but something about him threatened Tyler’s personality.
( Malozing )
The ginger haired girl looked too young for Tyler to even look at. He was sure she was going to be all about arts and crafts and bringing everyone together .. he shivered at the thought . ( laceanddoodles )
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by booming commands. He saw everyone else taking camp tee shirts and did the same while following the group. “ overrated “ he huffed.

 

[baggysack]

Having ran the length of the stop to the starting point, Chez shot up when she heard her name; winched. Though she was breathing heavy, the girl was doubled-over, hands on her knees, mostly in bated apprehension for what this grizzled, grey-wolf of a man had to say to her. When he barked, she met his eye, but held her face the way someone hung-over would stifle vomit. And he kept barking, but it made less and less sense as he prattled on. He rounded off with a threat; they stared at each other in the breadth of silence, before Cheslea remarked, "...what?"

But Sergeant had already turned around, heading for the woods. The rest followed. Mixing and converging together. Some damn-ancient compared to her, others utter doe-eyed, with none especially standing out outside of a physical quirk: red hair; green hair; lanky; mopey; slick; a crooked smile. Then, in the back, there was Chez in the Harvey Davidson, thrifted t-shirt she slept in the night before; banged-up, low-rise converses; tall socks and basketball shorts -- and she didn't even play. Hopefully, she looked as ordinary as she intended to, and these -- call them "outer-city" -- strangers didn't see anything else.

Whatever-- she was definitely among "characters" here, as her auntie'd put it, though if everyone was a problem-kid here, no one really was -- like that Pixar movie. She maintained her guard regardless. Sucked into the draw of the crowd, Cheslea went to get her dumb shirt.

Of course, the guy in front was adamant in many. "Can't wait until we get ours first?" She doubted he heard the mutter through his headphones.

"I'm a small," she would project to the girl with the box.

...it was pretty quiet...

"Where we going first on the tour?" she asked her.

cartoons and cereal
in line for a shirt

 

[Malozing]

While walking with the group, Jay noticed the "Boy Band Rip-off" ( Farmgirl310 ) giving him that once-over appraising look, like the one his buddy Ricky gave to anyone trying to approach him. Ricky always wanted to appear like the tough guy of their little group. Jay offered the other boy nod in greeting as he moved along.

"Chels-" was what Stanley started to call out to the girl who got off the bus. ( baggysack ) He heard her mutter something about the extras he took. He shot her a lopsided grin. "Nah, I just wanted to see what mods I could get away with," Jay whispered to her, making sure that the Sergeant couldn't hear him. "These things look dorky as heck, but I got my swiss army knife. We'll have to see how some cuts look."

Jay pulled out his phone and scrolled through the list of songs he downloaded last night. He tapped his headphones where they rested around his neck as he spoke to "Boy Band" and "Chels-" "Got any music requests? I got quite a collection."

 

[Farmgirl310]

Tyler minded his business, not really thinking about anything in particular. The green-haired kid exchanged "douche" nods, nothing more was said or exchanged mostly a neutral setting. A budding feeling of tolerance for this kid was in place maybe he'd end up talking to him one day ( Malozing ) He went back about minding his business, but couldn't help to overhear a conversation between him and the girl at got off the bus, he internally smirked. My people he thought. He also noticed the bus girls outfit, he was fond of it and exchanged a casual nod in acknowledgment of her presence. ( baggysack )
"Got any music requests.." the green-haired boy spoke up.
He thought for a second conscious that his first song choice was going to be judged by these three.
" Do you have any Linkin Park or Gorillaz's? " Tyler shoved his hands in his pocket anxious to their judgment but kept his i don't care demeanor.

 

[Malozing]

"Hell yeah," Jay chuckled. "It's been a while since I listened though. The non-English international songs bug my Aunt more. Let me see what I still have on my phone..."

Jay shifted through the songs on his phone and tapped on the first song by either group. "Clint Eastwood" cuts off Rammstein's "Links 2 3 4".

 

[Farmgirl310]

Tyler chuckled and nodded feeling a little more relaxed in this new environment. A short and sweet " Nice" followed by a crooked smirk as he nodded his head along and mouthed the words. The song brought memories of him and his friends stoned in their basement, the slow tempo was perfect for feeling the full-body high while munching on some Doritos. He wondered what those degenerates were up to, something better than he was doing.
As the drums came in he turned to the green-haired boy and spoke while nodding along " 'Sup, im Ty , Ima be straight with you.." He paused and looked around before looking back at the boy " I'm not really into the buddy buddy thing, but you seem tolerable and if we were home id totally smoke you up..but were not". Tylers sorry attempt at a compliment/introduction was sending mixed signals but he was happy with it regardless. ( Malozing )

 

[laceanddoodles]

Forest time! Winnifyn grinned, placing her guitar case on the ground just long enough to yank her shirt on over her head, and then grabbed it and scampered after the sergeant. After a little bit, though, she let herself fall in line next to the boy who'd smiled at her. ( StrixDesmodus ) He seemed cool-- he had a sketchbook so he was probably cool. She'd kinda gotten the hang of making friends, over the past few years. Winnifyn used to struggle with that a lot, but Emily had helped her so much. With, like, little stuff. Like knowing what facial expressions meant and how to read them. There were still some things she didn't get, but most of the time, she could cover her bases enough to be decently well liked.

"So!" She grinned, not quite looking over at him, but generally her body language was more pointed in his direction than not. "I'm Winnifyn. What's your name? Do you like hiking?"

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Francis was last to take a shirt, hoping to have at least a slight distance from the sergeant. The farther away he'd be, the less noticeable, and the less likely to be in any kind of trouble.
When Winnifyn addressed him, it took his mind off of the possibility of getting in trouble. He smiled again, replying cheerfully.
"I'm Francis, and I do like hiking. It's nice to see the scenery and wildlife and stufff. Nice to meet you, by the way."
Francis figured that Winnifyn seemed nice, unlike he was half expecting of the other campers at CAMP PROPER. Sometimes, his mother had made the camp out to be like an ordinary summer camp in every way, but sometimes she had suggested that it would be, at the very least, populated by kids who Francis wouldn't fit in with. More than the latter, she implied that they would antagonize him. And yet the last thing she told him was to have a good time, as though she expected that. Or maybe she was just trying to look innocent. Francis could hardly tell.

 

[laceanddoodles]

"Oh, good. I don't think I could ever be friends with somebody who didn't. Nice to meet you too," she tacked on, as an afterthought. “So, you draw, then?”

She knew from Emily that a good way to make friends was to ask people questions about themselves. People enjoyed talking about themselves and when you listen, it makes them like you. That was a useful thing to know, and Winnifyn had been pretty surprised by exactly how well it worked. Emily was in France all summer, and had already written Winnifyn a few letters, which she’d responded to in turn, tucking pressed flowers into the envelopes to scent the paper.

“Drawing’s really cool,” she said, not really waiting for a reply, despite her best friend’s advice. “I don’t draw, but I play music.”

 

[StrixDesmodus]

"Yeah, I do draw. It helps me focus in classes, and it's a good way to exercise the imagination. Music's cool too. I wish I could play some kind of instrument, but at least I can sing. How's the guitar? Is it good for a beginner?"
Francis was keen on knowing if any instrument would be easy. He didn't mind a challenge, but his mother had practically forbidden him from learning any instruments on account that she didn't want to hear him practice, most of all emphasizing that she didn't want to have to listen to any mistakes he'd make.

 

[laceanddoodles]

"I think any instrument's good for a beginner. 'Cause you have to be a beginner for a little while to get any good at anything, right? That's kinda the point. But guitar's pretty easy, yeah. Especially if you're not playing, like, classical guitar, and you're just doing chords and stuff and writing songs, like me." She shrugged, looking over at him with that same sunny grin. This was exactly her idea of a good time, she thought as they all trudged deeper into forest. She loved the sunlight dappled through the trees, and the murmurs of voices almost drowned out by the sounds of birdsong and wood. This was music. She tossed some of her long red hair over her shoulder and took her eyes away from him, looking up towards the treetops above them.

"We got seven weeks. I can at least start teaching you, if you'd like. And we should definitely sing together."

 

[StrixDesmodus]

Francis beamed. He'd actually get to try learning an instrument.
"Thank you so much! What sorts of songs do you write?" Francis was quite enthusiastic, even beginning to believe he might actually enjoy himself at this camp. He did, after all, seem to have the beginnings of a friendship.
Then, he felt something small land on his hand, which was slightly fuzzy against it. At first, a puzzled look came over him, but when he raised his hand to see what was on it, he smiled.
"Hello there," he said to the large-ish, black and white moth. He then addressed Winnifyn, "Look at this. I guess he wasn't looking where he was going or something. A giant leopard moth, I think."

 

[Malozing]

Jay shrugged at Ty's awkward introduction. "Jay. I don't doubt this camp isn't your first choice for summer vacation, so I don't blame ya for not being buddy-buddy. Hell, I'm just hoping to be left alone with my music most of the time."

Looking around, he sighed. "I wonder if we could do a game of Manhunt out here. It'd be even more exciting if we have a curfew."

 

[Farmgirl310]

Tyler's feet sluggishly moved across the grass while observing his surroundings. Trees, Check. Grass, Check. An overwhelming sense of boredom, Check. They had moved a good distance into the woods, would be a perfect place for a horror movie and a cliche teen summer camp one at that. He overheard the red-headed child speaking and couldn't help overhearing she liked music as well, she also called herself Winnifyn. Mental note he thought to himself.
Tyler likes to think of himself as "Street smart" and does feel quite out of place as he believes these kids are all "good" kids. Ty begins to stray from the group without care for sergeants rules or others thoughts, maybe if he tried to slip away quietly he could just go home and they wouldn't care.
Tyler is a quiet sheltered person from the real world as much as he wants to believe otherwise. He gets anxious and is bothered by what-ifs.
He strays within whistling distance, barley able to see the clothes others wore. Horror movie flashbacks play along with the what if racing through his mind, not today he thought and began to slink back to the group.