Summer Camp Petoskey Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
petoskeymods) wrote2018-06-10 11:28 pm
petoskeymods) wrote2018-06-10 11:28 pm
Entry tags:
DEADLAND
[Some time after your character dies, they will wake up in their bunk in camp. But something is wrong here, so very wrong.
Venture outside, and you will see that you're still in camp, but it's trapped in a foggy twilight. Time doesn't seem to pass, and it's quiet. Too quiet. No animals, no breeze, nothing.
The only sign of anything living is in the trees, where dozens and dozens of ghostly figures roam. Sometimes they might come into camp, but you'll probably have to go out to meet them if you want to talk to them. They all seem to be watching camp, but are shy and might flicker away if they're approached.
Finally, in the chapel in the lodge, there is a shadowy figure. It looks like a preteen, perhaps? Maybe 11 or 12 or so. But that's about all you can get from it at a glance.
But you're here now, and there are things to do. Where will you start?]
Venture outside, and you will see that you're still in camp, but it's trapped in a foggy twilight. Time doesn't seem to pass, and it's quiet. Too quiet. No animals, no breeze, nothing.
The only sign of anything living is in the trees, where dozens and dozens of ghostly figures roam. Sometimes they might come into camp, but you'll probably have to go out to meet them if you want to talk to them. They all seem to be watching camp, but are shy and might flicker away if they're approached.
Finally, in the chapel in the lodge, there is a shadowy figure. It looks like a preteen, perhaps? Maybe 11 or 12 or so. But that's about all you can get from it at a glance.
But you're here now, and there are things to do. Where will you start?]
no subject
[And he squeezes his leg, trying to be reassuring.]
Even if everything goes to hell we've made progress here, progress that can help the next group if that's what it comes down to. Our bodies might be falling apart but Sol said it would take a year for us to become completely ghostly like the other spirits here. That means that even if Red does inflict the final protocol on us we'll be able to leave messages for the next group of campers.
And we've got a year to do it. Plenty of time to remember everything.
no subject
...you're right.
[He leans forward a little and places a hand on Tal's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze in return.]
I keep thinking about this in terms of the things I'm responsible for back home and how I'm just... not fulfilling any of those things, but that doesn't mean losing sight of the big picture here. It's just.. hard with Shiro gone.
[...There. He brought up Shiro, meaning he brought up Tuesday. That's... a start. He breathes out and moves his hand away.]
I owe you some thanks.
no subject
[He glances down and away, huffs a soft breath. Lance reminded him of that when he needed it the most and the idea of thanks is just so odd he has to shake his head and dismiss it.]
We're friends, Lance. That means looking after each other, even when things go to shit.
[He leans heavier against the couch, twisting a little so he can cross his arms on the seat next to Lance and look up at him. Smiling softly as he's been doing more and more often lately.]
Especially when things go to shit.
no subject
[....and if that sounds like a generic platitude, that's because it is one. Lance is struggling with words at the moment.]
Hey, Tal. ....About this friend thing.
no subject
The uncertainty and no small amount of fear is clear in his expression and his voice, in the way he's gone utterly still, barely breathing and not daring to move whether it be to take his hand away from it's place on Lance's thigh or press closer out of some desperate hope.]
Friend... thing? [Like not actually friends? ]
no subject
I didn't mean-- of course, you're my friend, silly. I just-- [VERY VERY inadvisably tried to have this talk the second he woke up from a nap?? How does he go back and hit restart. Lance hangs his head.]
I'm overthinking, I think. I guess...I'm just really comfortable around you a-and maybe that's... confusing? I don't know.
no subject
By the Six, you scared me. [he laughs softly, shaking his head, leaning into Lance.]
Confusing...? [The question is a tiny bit hesitant though. Not utterly clueless but he's going to make Lance explain, not just guess blindly.]
no subject
...yeah. Confusing. I have Floe and you have Ren and Nine, so I'm obviously just ... reading too hard into things, right?
[He glances up just briefly at the end of the question, just trying to read whatever Tal's reaction to that is.]
no subject
There's a flicker of something in his expression, hopeful, excited even, and he leans a little closer to Lance. The acknowledgement of this thing between them, that it's not just him and his stupid confused feelings but it's something more than that, something... something and for a moment all he wants to do his close the distance between them and kiss him, soft and reassuring like everything between them has been for so long now.
And then his brain catches up with his stupid traitorous heart.]
Floe... [Hazel eyes fall shut with a wince and he moves again but this time it's to put a little distance between them, shifting back, bringing his knee up onto the couch to force him to leave a little space there. He lets a breath out, slow and strained.]
Right... I- [A sigh.] I'm not going to pretend like there's nothing here. [He gestures between them, then finally looks up at Lance again, a weak, apologetic smile on his lips.]
S-sorry.
no subject
But then again, it doesn't really make him happy to know either. The situation is wrong on more than one level, and he hasn't even begun to unpack what exactly it all means, let alone what it means what it means when it may not be so purely one-sided.
....Well, not that any of that matters at this point. There's no point in thinking about something that can't happen anyway. Lance takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]
...I just don't want to do that to Floe. And I don't want to do that to Nine and Ren either.
[He supposes though, that that second part is flimsy. On some level, they'd have to be okay with it, if the three of them are together. Using that as a shield isn't fair to Tal.]
And...I don't want to do that to myself either. Not because you're a guy or... whatever. I just... I like what we have now as friends.... and I don't want to lose that.
no subject
[That's really the only thing he can confidently say about all of this. Really it is. He doesn't know what to do or say beyond that. The idea that Lance would set whatever this could be aside for what it is... it's a little strange to him, it's cautious in a way he doesn't know how to be.
Tal lifts one hand to pluck anxiously at his cuticles, noticing the habit after a moment and dropping his hand again. He breathes out a harsh breath, finally looks back at Lance and scoots a smidge closer. The hand he hadn't just been chewing on reaches out, hesitant, watching Lance carefully for signs that he's uncomfortable as he takes his hand, holding it gently, thumb stroking soothingly across his knuckles.]
I'll always be your friend, Lance. No matter what happens. With Floe or Nine or... whatever it is, it doesn't make you less important to me.
[And if friends is all Lance wants then he will do his damnedest to respect that. Not to push or let his heart get too carried away.]
no subject
Well whatever it seems, Tal keeps him from dwelling on it for long. Lance looks down at their joined hands, feeling uncertain all over again on how to respond. He neither pulls his hand away nor reacts favorably, just biting his lower lip for a few seconds to think.]
...that's a relief.
[He turns his hand over to wrap his fingers around Tal's and gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Then he lets go and moves his hand away. Now that this is the conclusion he's reached, it's best not to give mixed messages any more.]
You're really important to me, too, Tal.
no subject
But Lance needs support and they both have other people that need them.]
I... kinda get attached too easily, I think. That's probably where... why some of this...
shit I'm making this more awkward.
[At least this time he manages not to start picking at his cuticles again, just rubs a hand over his face, tired and just... running out of the emotional and mental stamina needed to keep up.]