JUNE EVENT: CAMP

[sailmods]

early on June 10th, Friday's morning announcements end with a request for everyone going on the latest excursion to meet her in the atrium. she seems in noticeably better spirits than she had been last time, and she leads them cheerfully to the tender. once they are all aboard, and the door is securely shut, the interior fills with gas, and, perhaps, their last thought before they slip into unconsciousness is "oh shit, not again."

passengers wake up on a rickety old school bus, driving down a dirt road surrounded by woods. what is it that they notice first? that, no matter what they were wearing before, they are now wearing a camp t-shirt and legitimately horrifyingly short shorts? the overstuffed backpack between their knees? the words "take one down and pass it around" dying on their lips? the fact that Friday is absolutely driving the bus?

or, maybe the fact that it's already slowing down, pulling up in front of a massive wooden sign, saying:

 

 

 

 

 

CAMP AION

when they get out of the bus, Friday is the one to divide them up into their cabin groups, and she is the one to give the counselors their very official-looking clipboards and whistles. she explains that they are in charge, and that she will be back to pick them up in a week, and... very little else. she responds to nothing outside of whatever is on her unseen little script, and she gets back on the bus shortly after, leaving them there.

welcome to camp. let's make some summer memories!

Comments

[cacophonish]

"Me neither, like, I used to try with my best friend--"

Well. Ex-best friend now, he supposes. Jeff did a masterful fucking job driving her away over the past few months. He stumbles for a moment, then tries to recover. Gotta keep up the happy camper act, because if he drops it for even a second, he'll probably have a meltdown all over this guy or eat mysterious (fake, set dressing???) mushrooms in the woods or huff craft glue or make toilet wine or something...

"Um. When we were kids. Anyway, hers were always pretty, and mine always looked like, like a bunch of gnarly fucking knots." He brightens up and fishes a fistful of bracelets from his pocket, holding them out in offering. They're in an assortment of colors, each with some sloppy attempt at a pattern. "So today I thought I'd just keep at it 'til I got it... And I think I started to nail it!" He holds up one particular bracelet, which is mostly black, with vague white shapes on it. "I tried putting skulls on this one."

[broshaw]

Boy, if Sharky doesn't know that abrupt cut-off vibe. There's nothing like having someone you'd die for being unceremoniously piled into the ex-friend category. But he also knows that it's a bummer and a half to talk about, and they're not going to bum each other out right now, goddamn it!

"Oh, dude, I can totally see it," which he can, as he observes those little white spots that are, sort of, kind of like skulls. He himself will make a gimme-hand at a green one because green is a cool color, the other hand holding out the torn-open bag of marshmallows. "Take as many as you want, preeeetty sure they'll regenerate or whatever." He has no idea, but he's wildly assuming!

[cacophonish]

Exactly, tonight's for happy vibes and ignoring their abundant personal problems! As long as they've got marshmallows and fire, they're fine. Better than fine, even. They're thriving.

"Thanks, man." Jeff's beaming, totally proud of how his skulls turned out, and all too happy to just burrow in this distraction. He passes the green bracelet off to the dude and grabs a handful of marshmallows in return. One by one, they get speared on a stick, because why practice moderation or take his time when he can just burn several at once and shove them all in his mouth and maybe burn his tongue, but it'll be worth it--

"I'm Jeff. Um. New here, I guess. This is my first... uh... shore leave?" Excursion. Whatever. He looks thoughtful for a moment. "It's kind of nice, you know? Everyone made it sound like we were gonna get murdered or go all Lord of the Rings--" He means Lord of the Flies. "--or something."

[broshaw]

Sharky grins as he fiddles the bracelet onto his wrist, pretty confident that this is the coolest thing he's gotten so far. It's admittedly a short list and it's mostly populated with Tommy Bahama shirts, but still! It's pretty cool.

"Jeff? I'm Sharky. Good to meet ya." He grabs a marshmallow for himself, although he just sorta picks it apart to eat the edges. "I got here a little after the last one, which I guess was like, Battle Royale or something? But the sign-up said this one was gonna be way less stressful, so..." So he signed up. Not at all because he feels certain the price of this cruise is blood, and if he didn't sign up then there would be serious consequences. Obviously not. That would be, like, crazy talk.

"I definitely am not gonna complain too much about being able to just, like, kick it around a fire. That is solidly my jam. I could do with a fucking beer, but..." But what can you do? He obviously should've asked, so that's on him.