Realistic or Modern Harvey's Camp For Troubled Boys | IC

[Maius]

Travaughn

St-Germaine​

location: cabin b

mood: neutral, buzzed

mentions: kiane

interactions: open

outfit: x

The cool air; the scent of pine; and now the toxic fumes of Abernathy's vehicle as it departed. Even out here—seemingly the middle of nowhere—you couldn't escape the suffocating effects of smoke usually most prevalent around city areas.

During the course of the speech, Travaughn had found himself raising his line of sight to the sky, observing the sun peek out from above the surrounding canopy of trees. The sky itself was clear. An incomplete drawing, missing those all too familiar m-shaped arches that everyone used to draw as kids, to represent the birds, back in kindergarten. Back when the word school evoked images of recess and colouring books, and broken crayolas were the worst of anyone's problems.

Travaughn realised the only thing he'd picked up on from the speech had been something about a tour that would be happening in an hour's time-- and the cabins, which they were about to see now. He listened, half anticipating the sound of birdsong to erupt out of the vast expanse of forest any moment now. As they walked, twigs snapped underfoot. Somewhere in the background of it all, he swore he could still hear the faint humming of the car engine, although largely absorbed by the surrounding thicket.

Advancing closer and closer to the entrance of the cabins, he felt the cold brush of a hand and something pressed into his palm. Instinctively, he closed his fingers around the item, and glanced down. The dark blue denim and the smell of nicotine was an instant giveaway as to the person's identity, and Travaughn recognised it to be Kiane. With the same manner of covertness as the guy that had passed him the joint, Travaughn maintained a neutral expression as he slipped it into his pocket, discreetly enough not to attract any suspicion from the guards: the process of it almost routine to him.

Inside the cabin, Travaughn took the duffel bag off his shoulder and threw it over onto a bunk above the one he'd chosen. It was unlikely it'd remain vacant for long, but at least the bag would deter anyone from laying claim to the bunk for as long a time as possible. The one he'd chosen was the bottom bunk opposite one of scarce few other windows in the cabin. The wooden frame of it—the window—was chipped and blistered, allowing a current of air to enter in through the cracks. Ideal for summers when temperatures could reach soaring highs—not so much for winters.

Travaughn sat down on the edge of his bed. Way before he had even stepped foot inside, he'd already predicted the inside of the cabin wouldn't be any better than its outside: its walls hardly looking stable enough to support the roof of the cabin, and the faint smell of bleach in the air as if someone had been attempting to kill off mould. Key word: attempting. Judging by the dark soot-like hues covering over the walls, they'd obviously done a bad job of it.

After some moments of staring at the mould, as though it would fade to dust if he just kept his eyes fixated on it long enough, Travaughn fell back onto the bed, pulling at the strings of his pullover sports jacket's hood to cover over his face. It probably looked stupid, but he didn't care. He'd take the smell of weed over the smell of rot and must any day.

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[mikaluvkitties]

Casper Ollila
location: the bus | tags: Sook | mentions: n/a​

Casper jumped as the other boy again started to speaking to him. For a second, he was rendered speechless, eyes darting across a face that reminded him in a way of his brother’s, for a reason that took him embarrassingly long to grasp.

He zoned out Cian’s words, instead listening to its ebb and flow as he tried to figure out what about his face was so familiar. Eventually, without even thinking about it, he was nodding along, still trying to piece together why he was missing his brother more intensely than usual.

It was the emotionlessness. That was definitely it. Now that he was thinking about his brother, Casper couldn’t help but miss home dearly. Not that that would really make a difference, he reminded himself, heart twinging softly. That wasn’t where Aaron was, right?

The bus began to slow to a halt, and and Casper snapped back into the moment, head swivelling to the window, lips parting as he took in the view.

Then Cian was speaking again, and Casper turned to him, noticing that he was standing and exiting, and they were some of the last people on the bus. Hurriedly, he followed after him, only the realizing he still hadn’t given his name. Stutteringly, he said, “I’m Casper, by the…” He trailed off as he took in the amount of guards, growing more apprehensive as he shrunk into himself.

Cian probably got the idea, he consoled himself.

His eyes naturally found themself on the older man with the smile, an subconsciously Casper began to nibble on his lip as the man spoke, eyes only darting away when one of the other campers snorted, though he quickly looked away when he saw his hands begin to fist. Nothing good would come of that.

The man spoke a bit, and Casper only grew more apprehensive. An hour to kill before the official tour? Casper was pretty sure that would be enough time for his own worries to crush him.

More guards appeared, and Casper looked up, then hurriedly back down, scooting a bit closer to Cian, as close as he dared to scoot.

He couldn’t breathe, and it took him a second to realize that it wasn’t just panic, that there was actually something making him feel that way, and he coughed into his elbow, hand holding his wrist gently as he watched the car speed away.

One of the last people to enter the cabin, he almost froze in the entrance, too much happening to be taken in at once. Thankfully, he only stuttered, but still managed to head further in, curiously watching others move around before sitting on a lower bunk and looking at his bag.

Now what?

 

[jinkx]

[div class=container][div class=image] [div class=title]KIANE CRAWLEY [div class=line][/div] [div class=lil]The Burnout[/div][/div] [div class=b][div class=lilimage][/div][/div][/div] [div class=info] [div class=post][div class=scroll] The atmosphere in the cabin was tense and cluttered, a side effect of cramming so many boys into one room and expecting them to play nice. Nobody seemed keen on talking much, except to occasionally grumble about being here, and Kiane kept to himself- he was friendly but too quiet to usually make the first move. Although he had some terrible roommates over the last few years, (terrible was kind really, he'd shared with a kleptomaniac when he was fifteen), he'd never had so many. It made the room feel stuffy, like they were sardines in a can, and underneath the smell of mould, damp, and dust, there was a distinct smell of boy. It reminded him of his brother's room growing up and the time he'd spent there, trying to keep up with his older brother and his friends. He'd always wanted to be "one of the boys", tagging around after his brother and his friends for as long as he could remember. Looking around this room now, he wondered if being one of the boys was really all he'd cracked it up to be.

The creak of somebody collapsing on the bunk below him caught his attention and Kiane leaned forward slightly, so he could make out the other boy. He recognised the boy vaguely, like he might have seen him before but through a disorted glass that had blurred his features. On the bus, outside, he must've been there... Leo looked as exhausted as if he felt, Kiane thought, as he took in the dark circles under the boy's eyes and dropped his gaze to take in the rest of the boy; he didn't look like he belonged here, like ending up in Cabin B could've just been the result of an administrative error, but Kiane knew better than to judge a book by its cover at this point. God only knew what Leo might be hiding underneath his pretty boy face.

"Cigarette," He replied, neutrally, "Bad habit. Guards took them when they searched me- and my lighter. Probably chucked them in the bin by now," He paused before adding in a slightly more amused tone, "My brother is going to be a right twat about it when I get home- that was his lighter. I'm Kiane."

When some people smiled, the expression didn't quite reach their eyes, (Kiane would cite Abernathy or his mother's tight-lipped formal smile as an example), and one look in their eyes would tell you the smile was meaningless. Polite. Kiane's facial expressions seemed to work in reverse in this respect; although his expression remained neutral and almost bored, there was something in his eyes that was obviously friendly and warm. There was a softness in his eyes that didn't stretch to the rest of his face, (also a slight haze of marijuana from the bus- he'd already clocked Travaughn from across the room and wondered what they were going to do without a light between them...). If Travaughn had been looking, Kiane would've waved him over, but he seemed to have retreated into his own skin.

Kiane dropped his gaze back to Leo, "You been here before or spoken to anyone who has? If Abernathy thinks abandoning us in the middle of nowhere and making us do teamwork exercises is going to change anything, he's off his tits." [/div][/div] [div class=pos][div class="round1 round"][/div] . [div class="round2 round"][/div] . [div class="round3 round"][/div] [div class=stats]mood: neutral | mentions: travaughn | interaction: leo
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[Satanic Nightjar]

Damon Nocturne

location: camp | mood: neutral | mentions: Connor | outfit: here

Forty-five minutes later, Damon was preparing to leave for the tour. Making his bed - last year the punishment for disorganization was severe, and he wasn't taking any chances, carefully concealing anything that could justify consequences (his half-full pack of cigarettes, the remaining alcohol in the bottle. Carefully wedging them beneath his blankets in the space between the wooden bed and the hard mattress and making sure they wouldn't be crushed, he leaned back to admire his work. It wasn't the best hiding place, but it would have to do until he had some better options. Sighing, he sat back against the wall to wait for the next ten minutes.

He never got a chance. Just before it was time to exit the cabin, four heavily armed guards entered the room, heading directly towards his bunk. Desperately trying to look innocent, he fixed his eyes on the opposite wall, mimicking the indifferent expressions on the other's faces. At least now if they attempted to drag him down from the top bunk (painful, he knew from experience), he'd have the element of surprise in an attack. Perhaps the first successful escape attempt since the opening of the camp was about to take place. He found himself almost hopeful before reminding himself of the cruel punishments he'd face if he failed. Damon was no coward, but nobody wanted to be forced to endure that kind of torture. Leaning his head back against the wall, he prayed that it wasn't him they were coming for. That this was just a new intimidation tactic for the newcomers. No such luck.

"You!" The tallest of the group growled in a low voice, his finger pointing accusingly at Damon. "Boss wants to see you." Positioning himself ready to launch off of the bunk, he prepared to jump, but a voice stopped him before he had the chance. "Don't. You. Dare." Sighing, he forced an arrogant smile onto his lips, crawling down the ladder and leaping down the last couple of steps. Slapping the young guard on the shoulder, he grinned as if they were old friends. Recognition flickered through his eyes at the sight of Damon, something was familiar about him. "Vampire boy," He muttered, making no attempt to hide the resentment filling his voice. It was his nickname since the first week of last year's camp, based on his straight-out-of-a-horror-movie name.

"Hey, Harris, good to see you again. You can't blame me for trying, right? You know how much I hated this goddamn place." Harris attempted to maintain his blank expression, but he was obviously having great trouble. "The boss wishes to see you," He repeated, gesturing for his companions. The other guards stepped forward, taking Damon by the arms and dragging him out of the cabin as if he had put up a fight. The smirk never left his lips as he was forced out of the cabin, calling out behind him "Have fun, newbies!"

~~~
​

At the tour...
Damon dodged his way through the crowd of boys, ignoring questioning stares. His black eye throbbed violently, and he was in no mood to play games. Finally the boy he was searching for came into view up ahead. Connor. He looked rather nervous, but a hint of his charming smile still remained on his lips. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his shoulder, hissing at him not to react or make any sound at all. "Don't turn around. You didn't notice me, okay?" As much as he despised having to do this, he knew that forming alliances and friendships with the other boys was absolutely necessary. Quickening his pace to stand beside Connor, he grinned at him. "So, what do you think so far?"

Abernathy was midway through the tour, but Damon was sure he hadn't missed much. Bathrooms to the left, lake down the path to the right, climbing wall directly ahead and the main house is behind the cabins. Medical attention can be found near the cabins, on the edge of the forest. Don't ever go in the woods unless you want to die a cruel death. It was all basic. The real tour would begin tomorrow at six in the morning, when many of these kids would realize that this was far more than a typical summer camp. He remembered that moment, the sense of defeat and the hopelessness of this place. It was all part of the experience.