Truth or Dare — Group ONE Summer Camp '22

EmmaLee turned delicately from Monica as she felt an apprehensive but firm tap on her shoulder and was met with Marshall Mozor's chest. Oh no.... The boy hadn't taken what she said seriously, right? Was he mad now? There seemed to be at least a couple of players who had forgotten that this was an embarrassing dare game and took some of the dared declarations and actions to heart. EmmaLee hoped that Marshal was not here to yell at her or otherwise confront her about whatever fabricated conflict they definitely did not have.

She tried very hard to resist the urge to look down at his shoes and turned to look up at his face instead. Had he been this tall ten minutes ago? Or was he just closer? She had tried very hard to do her dare and run away as quickly as possible previously, but... um... her pale face flared to more of a tomato color as she noticed his proximity. He was very definitely standing far to close to her person as he said, "So sorry to bother you, but I wondered if I might get your name?"

"Ah. Um... My name is EmmaLee. It is nice to meet you, o-officially." She said politely, nervously pushing a lock of white hair behind her ear. He must not have heard what she said, because even if he did realize that it was a dare, he would not have been so pleased with the content. Marshal continued to explain that he had, actually, not understood what she had said at all but that he loved her for it.

Oooooh. Realization dawned on the pale girl as she figured out her own mistake. She had fallen into French. It was a bad habit of hers to return to her native language when she was nervous or otherwise out of it. The older boy had no idea what she had said, and, therefore, EmmaLee was definitely in the clear for him mistaking that she was actually mad at him, but.....he loved her for it. She raised an almost invisible eyebrow and tipped her head to one side in confusion, sending white locks waving in the movement and wind. What a strange thing to say. Did he mean that he liked her accent? French was a beautiful language sure, but oook. She was glad for the strange complement rather than an angry confrontation any day.

When he followed up with a flowery complement about her eyes, EmmaLee was pretty sure that every platelet of blood in her body had shot up to her cheeks and that her toes were numb from the lack of blood. She covered her burning face behind pale hands and muttered.

"Uh uh.. Thank you." She said, now EXTREMELY interested in her own shoes. She frowned a little behind her palms as she took half a second to ruminate on the fact that these complements were coming from someone completely uninterested in her and visibly shook it from her mind before looking up at him sheepishly between her fingers. Her face and racing heart had no such revelations and remained out of her control. "Your, ah... dare is complete, I suppose," She said, definitely in English this time, but stumbling over her words. "so you may go now. I need to go find my next partner. " Oof. Even when she picked truth she ended up getting picked on. This was definitely a game to be left with the fishes.

The French girl turned and tried as calmly as possible to head back over to the cannon and the food table, her new sanctuary apparently. She didn't want Marshal to think he had upset her in any way, she just wanted out of the situation entirely and as quickly as possible.

Once she reached the snack table, she took a few calming breaths. ~C'est juste un jeu. Les beaux mots ne veulent rien dire quand ce n'est qu'un jeu. Tu ressembles à un enfant ici énervé pour rien.~ It's just a game. Pretty words mean nothing when it's just a game. You look like a kid here, flustered for nothing. She thought as she breathed, willing the blood away from her cheeks and back down to her toes. She patted her cheeks a bit, as if to wake herself up, and took a few sips of water before turning around and heading back to the cannon, leaving her momentary loss of cool with the strawberries.

That is... until the evil thing popped out her next target. Of course it would be one Marshal Mozor. Because fate was her best friend. She rubbed the space between her eyebrows with two fingers in annoyance. Well, at least this was the last round and then she literally never had to talk to any of these people ever again. She could leave all of this embarrassment on this boat like a sunken treasure chest.

She looked over to see Marshal very preoccupied with the Evelynn girl and the boy Mathias from earlier. She waited patiently until he seemed to have resolved whatever he needed to do with them before she walked back over to him. She rubbed the space between her eyes brows again as she tapped him on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around.

"It seems this last round, I have a truth question for you." EmmaLee said, thankfully having fully regained her composure now that they could have a semi-normal interaction. "If you could be an immediate expert in anything right now, what would you chose and why?" She asked, raising a white eyebrow curiously.

Dialogue: ✕ | Thoughts: ✕ | Quotes: ✕
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Monica watched as Mathias positioned himself in front of the plank, waving his wand and casting the slippery jinx. It was rather concerning that there was no noticeable change to the plank... did Monica just send this boy to his demise? Should couldn't think about it. Surely the upperclassman would have the brain to know if the spell did or didn't work right?
Taking steps back, Monica shut her eyes as he rushed past.... she didn't hear a scream, at least not at first, and there wasn't a sound of a concerning boom...
She opened her eyes, not seeing him on the plank, and rushed to the edge of the ship. Sure enough a splash marked the signal that the boy had made it to the water, and better yet, by the time Monica could see him, swimming towards the ladder. Relief washed over Monica, just as she had received her last cannon for the night.
She opened up the paper to read, Emma Wynn with Truth.

Monica called out around the ship, eventually finding the person matching the name on her paper, "Good evening miss Wynn, I am the deliverer of your cannon fire." Monica looked at the paper, acting as if she was an official London guard giving a report, all while trying to think of a decent question to ask the girl. Finally inspiration struck, "Ah I see you have chosen to speak truth... Well then I have a question for you." Monica now at this point dropped her act, feeling rather too silly to continue with the horrible attempt at a guard demeanor, "What has someone done that has hurt you so bad, you find it impossible to forgive them, even if years have passed?"
Monica stood, awaiting for the answer, reflecting on why she asked such a pointed question... but said, it already was, and no changing her mind now.

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ACTION: Asked Emma - what has someone done that has hurt you, that you don't feel you could forgive?
| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: @Emma Wynn| Mention: @Mathias Pride