camppetoskey | Week 8

WEEK 8

The weekend passes in a blue, and suddenly it is Monday again. Monday of week 8, the final week of camp. The last week to try and change your fate.

It's sunny and pleasant, with daytime temperatures lingering around 70 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping off into the 50s in the evening. It's pretty much the perfect weather for Michigan, and it's only a shame that it took this long to get to it.

The WiiU continues to be broken, though the creepy Mii is gone now. All of the Miis are, actually. All that can be seen is a variety of Pure Michigan ads, interestingly enough. A bit calmer than last week's visuals, but probably annoying since no games can be played.

There is one other notable change about camp: the counselors are nowhere to be found. There is plenty of food and some note left on how to run things, but otherwise the campers have been left to their own devices apparently.

On the main door to the lodge is a note that says "We will be back as soon as possible." written in Red's handwriting. What could this mean?

7 CAMPERS REMAIN.

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[Yeah, Lenka was one of the people setting up, since he's best at manual labor at this point and it's usually a good distraction from all manner of messes -- this week, there's the lingering unease of not hearing anything from Sol, the counselors' general absence, the occasional stray hallucination strolling in like a bad lake kitten trying to claw at his ankles. At some point all worries and all else has sort of melted into the same indistinct pot of hollowed out and scorched things.

The end is in sight, though, for better or for worse: this is their last week to pull together with the dead and make sure they can all be together again, in any sense of the word. So for the moment, they can keep themselves safe and fed and together and alive, and accordingly he can be found pulling beanbags and blankets together, dragging over mattresses from various bunks (they could always bring more bunks, but it's just easier to make a pile on the floor), or in the middle of a pile of pillows looking a little uncertain what to do with them all. Possibly he's accidentally stolen yours for the communal pile. Feel free to nab things for a pillow/blanket fort or a mattress tent or something silly.

Alternatively, there are snacks. So many snacks. It's not like the coralfam is going to need a food stash, so here's C2's little hoard of sundry snack foods and so on. Just add it to whatever pile of edibles is happening.]

[Floating some of those crackers over, thanks.]

So much for our cabin.

[Only three remained - and that's still more than the others.]

[Grats on successfully feeding yourself, Mittens. Truly you've evolved into a semi-feral kitten. Lenka is going to grab some of the obligatory fudge and start gnawing at it like a heathen, because he learned fudge-eating from all you heathens and has no idea that's not how you do it.]

For now. [it's soft, not terribly clear around a mouthful] I guess at this point, the cabins don't matter anymore. Not for us.

[Maybe they should be thankful there are people left at all, in the eighth week and after the last weekend's losses. He doesn't actually mind consolidating them all into one cabin, even if part of him will always be more attached to those he's been living more closely with.]

[Gotta keep his strength up to save the bae.]

Even if we get them back, I don't think any of us will be staying in these cabins anymore.

It's just us versus them.

[The beyfriend is waiting and the protocol is about to get its socks rocked off, this is apparently a good week for Mittens -- there's a small but noticeable difference from the weekend. Lenka notes this, thoughtfully, but doesn't react beyond nudging a bit of fudge closer to him. Fudge and crackers might be an odd combo, but who's keeping track.]

... I think we might have to stop people from burning down the camp, when things end.

[A little bit dry, but not entirely disapproving? Because part of what's stopping them is Sol, and if they get Sol out of here per plan... there would be no reason for the camp to exist anymore. He hopes. He's not even entirely serious about the stopping part. #justpurgethings]

And the organization... [he's quiet for a moment] We'll deal with them.

[He mostly means making a deal, since he's still mostly on the side of diplomacy. For some reason. Blame Mitsuru (tactful).]

If there's no reason for it, we might as well burn it.

[He's coming to a similar conclusion. He's also taking a small piece of fudge, like a proper young lad.]

Diplomacy, right?

If that stops or delays them trying to use this place for something else...

[Because of course Sol isn't the only abnormality in this world, nor even the only one in this camp -- there's a brief frown on his face before he buries it back in the solace of fudge, because between the Mishibijw and the continued presence of hunters there's really no guarantee the organization won't pull something as bad as this again.

Even if they deal with the current threat, what can they do about the organization itself? It might not be something they have the power to do with what they have. There's a lot of general worries that are a thorn in his side right now. Hm.]

... Diplomacy first. We can think about the conditions once we finalize our plan.

[He chews on the fudge in silence for a bit, only speaking again once he's swallowed.]

We might get some extra leverage.

Leverage...?

[This really isn't sleepover talk, is it. Why are they like this.

At least they're munching.

He does look up again when Mitsuru brings that up, though, curiously. He doesn't exactly have good associations with the word leverage, but they're not bad associations, either. It very much depends on how everything turns out, in the end.]

[Leverage.

He continues to snack. Apparently that's all he's saying.]

Week 8

HECK yeaH sleep mingle

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