JULY MINI EVENT - Branching Out!

[pumpkinhollow]

Branching Out

A cool breeze threads through the trees of Lockwood Forest as Teddy Pennyburrow and his gaggle of volunteers begin to set up the camp.

It's been a monumental occasion, receiving enough funding to the Autumn Leaves Dormitory House to give it some much-needed upgrades and expansions, but the process hasn't been without its trouble. Finding somewhere to keep the children while the construction is under way took a great deal of thought and deliberation--- after all, the Oak & Iron doesn't exactly have the space to accommodate so many displaced kids, from toddlers to teenagers--- but with some assistance from those working so closely with the House, a seasonally-appropriate consensus was reached.

What better way to pass the time and make it fun for everyone involved than to have it be a camping excursion?

Summer Camp Season

In a wide clearing within the centermost area of the woods, Mr. Pennyburrow has gathered as many volunteers as he could possibly manage to keep the children active, engaged, and most importantly, safe. Among the roles called for in his volunteer-seeking notice on the public bulletin board, Pennyburrow called help for:

➤

Teachers, to educate the children on survivalism and nature, as well as any other subjects that might be easily taught to a gaggle of children in the woods. Math might prove to be challenging, here. (Anyone aspiring to teach full-time at the Dormitory House are encouraged to join them, as with the expansions and additional funding, Pennyburrow will be looking to hire a few offworld teachers to create curriculums!)

➤

Storytellers, especially anyone with a knack for tales of mystery and terror. (Campfire for ominous lighting while telling the stories will, of course, be provided. The teenagers would be willing to settle for no less.)

➤

Foragers and cooks, especially with skill in campfire-cooking.

➤

Warriors and guards, for assistance with keeping the campsite safe from any threats that lie in the forest.

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General attendants, particularly anyone with a keen eye (and potentially with the ability to guide rowdy groups into games to pass the time).

Though the position is voluntary, Pennyburrow still offers a humble 100B to anyone who comes to assist. (Mod note: if your character attends the event, feel free to go ahead and add 100B to their ledger!)

♥

Comments

QUESTIONS/COMMENTS/CONCERNS

[pumpkinhollow]

Mr. Teddy Pennyburrow | NPC

[in_for_a_penny]

With how he's been flitting about the camp since it's been set up, Pennyburrow's looking more like a birdfolk than a foxfolk.

Between doing what he can to help his volunteers, whether they've asked for a hand or not, trying to wrangle the more unruly children and teenagers, and keeping a full head-count while also trying to make sure he's keeping the more skeptical or uneasy children doted upon, he's running himself ragged by the first night. He doesn't seem troubled by the busyness of it all, however - exhausted as he looks, and even with the occasional bout of stress-jitters he gets, he seems exhilarated by it all. He isn't difficult to pull into an activity, however, nor is he at all opposed to being stopped to take a break once his wards have gone to sleep for the night.

(Mostly, the trouble is catching him.)

[tehilim127_1]

I asked in the chat how long this was going to go, and got the answer of two weeks! Can we all simply handwave how this works with our characters' regular jobs?

[pumpkinhollow]

Yep, this is something the whole town is in on, so workplaces will be flexible about letting people take off to help

[heartofadreemurr]

While Mr. Pennyburrow is doing his rounds, he can find his new favorite ward lying face down on a pile of forest brush.

"Mr. Pennyburrow..." They call weakly. "Help..."

Pine Guardian, Guardian of the Pine

[thethirteenthchild]

-Day Shift-

Lately, Dahlia's been needing to "eat" less and less. Something is changing. Shifting. It feels safer to be the Pine Devil now. Less likely to result in some unfortunate incident. Like maybe it's something she can reclaim.

(Plus, it's easier to stay cool as a big ol' beastie who doesn't wear any clothes.)

And so, as a method of entertaining the youngsters, Dahlia can be found "loafing" in the middle of the campgrounds sometimes, letting them touch and pet and climb on her. Occasionally, she'll even take a few of the older ones for a low flight. Some of them are a bit rough, yanking on her antlers or trying to touch her teeth, but for the most part, they're pretty well-behaved. This is... kind of fun.

-Night Shift-

This is why Dahlia is really here.

Lockwood Forest is dangerous at night. There are terrifying things in these woods. Things sent by demons, or by Nyarlathotep. Ghosts and fae folk of dubious intent. But the one thing that's nice about being Prince Aster's prize show pony is that she is much, much scarier, and anything with sense will run at the sight of those sharp blue pinpricks.

And so, wings spread in a threat display, Dahlia stands guard all through the night.

[in_for_a_penny]

At first, he doesn't spot them while he's trying to keep an eye on everything else, but his ear instantly swivels when his name is called. As soon as he's turned and spotted them, the armful of sticks he's toting clatter loudly to the ground, and he rushes to their side as quickly as his legs will carry him.

"Kris! Oh no, wh--- are you alright!? What happened!?"

[lordoftheozarks]

Tonight, she won't be standing guard alone. From out of the dark comes Erik, dressed down (for him) in a light pair of trousers and a vest with a jacket. He can see her perfectly in the dark and knows she can too, so he has no fear of approaching.

"I thought you might like a little company this evening, if I may?"

Camp Counselor Crichton and it's Water War Day!

[ss_buttcrack]

He was born for this. Who better to entertain a rowdy group of kids than the guy who never grew out of fart jokes and pirate puns? Yeah, exactly.

"All right, buccaneers and buckaroos! Listen up! I promised you a water war today, and I'm going to deliver, but first we gotta go over the ground rules. Ears open, eyes on me." As if they could possibly miss it when he's somehow speaking normally but also at full shouting volume. He really is camp counselor material.

"No aiming for the heads or eyes, I want good, clean fun. No shooting when someone's down or if they put their hands up for a timeout," he demonstrates holding his hands in a 'T' formation for them. "Keep it honorable out there, warriors. You got it?"

He pauses to read the room, make sure everyone's on the same page, and then he gets to the good part.

"As for your weapons? Take a look!" He pulls a towel off the bucket he's been standing beside to reveal a dozen or so crudely built DIY water guns. (pretend those are old-timey parts.) This man has a chemist for a girlfriend and a Ph.D. in physics, and that makes him a dangerously effective tinkerer.

"Ta DA! Grab a water gun and line up facing each other. It's Super Soaker time!"

They may note that Crichton isn't arming up with one himself. He doesn't need to. He has FLUDD, otherwise known as The Big Guns. If he sees anyone getting out of line, he's going to hose them down from a mile away. So play nice, or get super-soaked.

[heartofadreemurr]

One of the kids in attendance raises their hand.

"How do I tell if I'm a buckaroo or a buccaneer?"

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton treats this like the sensible question it is, pondering a moment before asking, "Do you like horses or ships better?"

[heartofadreemurr]

"That's such a complicated question, dude," Kris muses. "It's so contextual. How am I supposed to decide?"

[ss_buttcrack]

Is this kid being a little shit right now? Two can play at that game.

"Right. Sure. What context would you like it in? How about..." He motions with the joystick of his FLUDD, and the nozzle turns toward them. "In the context of which is better in the water?"

[heartofadreemurr]

"In this exact context? Right now? Probably the horse."

[ACT: Tactical Retreat]

Ducking low and doing a surprisingly skillful sort of lunge-slide, Kris dives for a water gun, then bolts. Catch them if you can, big dude.

[heartofadreemurr]

"I'm dying..." Kris groans. "I'm having... a critical lack of giant watermelon..."

[ss_buttcrack]

MMhm. That's what he thought.

"That makes you a buckaroo"--he pauses to dramatically bring his FLUDD around behind him again to prepare for liftoff--" that's about to get hosed!"

Cackling like a cartoon villain, Crichton jetpacks into the air and zooms in Kris's direction, planning to shower them from above.

"Run, run, run as fast as you can, mwahahahaa!!"

Teenagers Scare the Living Shit Outta Me

[heartofadreemurr]

So, summer camp.

Kris hasn't been to summer camp since they were little, and it was the one organized by the church. They remember sitting around a campfire in the evenings, watching Jockington trying to get Catti to dribble him while she ignored him to be enraptured with the cheap MP3 player her parents begrudgingly got her. Snowy telling horrible camping puns to an increasingly despairing MK, Temmie attempting to "hatch" a rock she found in the woods, while they and Noelle stared quietly into the flames, wishing that Dess and Asriel were there. They always loved a good campire. The perfect place for Dess to play her guitar and sing some quiet song under the night sky, or Asriel to tell some wild story that may or may not be intended for a video game he never intended to finish making. But the two of them had already outgrown summer camp by then, so it was just Kris and Noelle.

It felt a little lonelier, doing this without her. But Susie's here, more than enough to fill that particular void. Time to get up to no good.

-Uwaa, So Humid!-

God damn it's hot. During the day, it makes the campsite with its cooking fire nearly unbearable. So it's pretty frequent that Kris will wander off into the woods. Away from the fire, into the shade, where all of the comforting white noise of nature surrounds them. Some time to themself in this crowded place.

Still, Kris gets bored of being alone eventually. Spotting someone on the outer edge of the campsite, they loom close awkwardly, their presence just the slightest bit oppressive.

"Hey. Do you wanna see some cool moss?"

-Please Do Not Feed the Animals-

It's smores time around the campfire as the sun sets around camp. Kris, being quite the foodie, has already eaten several dozen smores. Thankfully offworlders have been here long enough to introduce the concept to the locals, and there is something truly amazing about smores made with handmade marshmallows. Which is why everyone should have some. Right?

It's kind of surprising that there are crabs up this far from the beach, but it's an island, so maybe it's not so strange. Regardless, Kris is picking pieces off of their marshmallows and giving them to the Blue Island crabs that are still running around. This is making the aforementioned crabs go absolutely bonkers. They're immediately riled up, fighting over marshmallow pieces and scrambling around like madmen. Perhaps they shouldn't really have sugar? Still, it's quite the show.

-Darker Yet Darker-

It's late.

It's amazing how the forest can get so dark at night. If darkness were not so comfortable for Kris at this point, it might be terrifying how dark it can get with the canopy of trees blocking the moons and the campfire embers having smoldered out. Beyond the lantern light of the campsite, Kris has slipped out to somewhere darker still. Past all the adults dutifully standing guard, and into the deadly silence.

Their red eyes stare into the void, trying to take away light that isn't there. To begin to see again. To make out the face of their missing friends. Maybe if they stare hard enough at the thick shadows, the shape of little pink horns and fluffy white fur, that long green mage's tunic and round glasses...

So focused is Kris on manifesting their friend, that they don't notice something else, looming in the distance.

-How Could You Be So Heartless?-

(Listen, we can talk about this. Please don't leave me behind.)

"Sorry," Kris mutters, huddled in their tent. "I need some me time."

(We're not at home anymore, Kris, I don't know how this'll work if we're separated. Things are different now, how am I supposed to write if I don't get a say in what I'm---)

Kris ignores their Soul's pleas. Thrusts their hand into their chest. The skin doesn't break, nor even their shirt. It's as if a strange, neon red portal has opened up in their sternum, allowing their hand inside. This doesn't mitigate how painful it is, of course. Nothing ever does. But such is the price of freedom.

Kris doesn't hate their Soul. The pair have... an understanding. But sometimes, they just need to be themself for a while. Surely their Soul understands.

Through gritted teeth and strained facial expressions, Kris pants as their fingers close around a little red heart. The Valentine kind. Cute, unassuming.

They rip it out, and hold it aloft. Then they shove it into their bag.

"Later."

(Wait, come back! Don't leave me here!)

But Kris can no longer hear me.

[ I, the player, am the Soul. I have been left behind. I am no longer in control. If you encounter Kris while they are Soulless, I will use a random number generator to choose between three potential courses of action, determining what Kris chooses without my influence. Have fun! ]

-Wildcard!-
[ You can just hit me with whatever, I'm chill with anything <3 ]

[heartofadreemurr]

"What the hell!" This guy can FLY?! That's definitely cheating. Thankfully, Kris' aim has improved since becoming the chosen one or whatever, so they skid to a stop with a with a turn and a flourish (why is this weird 15 year old randomly so cool sometimes? This is a puzzle that has vexed Susie for as long as she's known them) and fire on Crichton. Bullseye! They splash him good with his cleverly made water gun.

Unfortunately this also means they give up vital ground in the chase and are summarily doused by the overhead jets, flattening their too-long hair. They look like a cat that got rained on.

night shift

[incomingchoppers]

In the very, very early morning hours, a decidedly non-demonic shuffling sound comes from behind Dahlia. Radar -- looking a little disheveled in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, holding his teddy bear by one arm -- pads over to where she's standing guard.

"Hey," he mumbles.

(Usually, if Radar's awake this early for no reason, it's because he got socked in the head by a bad dream.)

[thethirteenthchild]

Dahlia gives a nod of greeting as he approaches, then a thoughtful pause, before she switches form. Not to her human form, however, but the midpoint between this and that, with sharp phthalo eyes and skin to match. A tail with a tuft of dark hair at the end coils around her feet.

She doesn't spend much time in this form, certainly not around people. But if there's one person who has been her friend through absolutely everything, who's been here since very nearly the beginning and still hasn't turned her away, it's Erik. He knew her before she was any semblance of a good person. Watched the fiasco with Ianto unravel, sometimes even firsthand. Supported her after the big reveal, and was patient with her. Dahlia has many friends now, real ones, something she never really expected. But few so steadfast as him. So for once, she will just be herself.

"I'd love that," she replies. "Hope you don't mind the look. Pine Devil's hard to talk in, but if I go blonde again, I lose all the intimidation factor."

[thethirteenthchild]

Struggling to ward off her own exhaustion, Dahlia snaps to attention as Radar comes over.

"Morning," she rumbles in her strange, distorted voice. "Nightmare?"

[incomingchoppers]

Radar nods. He rubs one eye with the hand not holding his bear; stifles a yawn.

"I checked on the kids and they're all asleep." Standard Radar procedure after a nightmare: get up and do some kind of work until he's tired enough to sleep again. "'S it okay if I stay out here with you?"

[lordoftheozarks]

"I like this look better," he says with utter sincerity. "You are far more captivating and regal in this shape." Her horns suit her as a crown far more than her demon father, in his opinion.

"I was watching you play with the children earlier. You're good with them. I'd say it warmed my heart, but unfortunately, not much besides blood can do that. But the sentiment is the same."

[thethirteenthchild]

"Of course." She leans over, nuzzling him the way an affectionate animal might. "New shirt. Nnnice... but a little c--orny."

With her rough, bestial voice, she lets out a rattling laugh.

Darker Yet Darker

[takethatnature]

It's been a few days since anyone saw Mr. Higgsbury, who said he was going to go pick berries before sunset. On Thursday. And while he does have a tendency to get distracted and then delayed -- it's easy to derail his science lessons into showing off fun chemistry tricks -- even if a Brutok got him he'd probably have rejoined the camp by now. Dying doesn't stop him from keeping his promises.

So what's he doing over there, way off among the trees? Is that him? In the darkness, hidden from the moonlight and the fire, it's difficult to tell if it's anyone at all. A hint of a pale face turned in Kris' direction.