Closed Bonfire Night Summer Camp 2024

Roleplaying as Casey Stone from Ilvermorny

Speech: Bold 257379
Thoughts: Bold Italics

Meeting @Rachel Greenford

A weary yet begrudged sigh slipped past Casey's lips when he heard the shuffly shoe of footsteps make their way across the snow towards him. He didn't want to look up in case he was setting himself up for disappointment to find her again standing in front of him. God how she irked him. He mentally prepared himself, a small eye roll unrestrained in the process as whoever it was now talking to him came and pulled up a chair beside him.

Casey glanced to his side and blinked. It wasn't her. Huh... A relief. Still, Casey was content with the blissful peace and quiet he had found by the fire, and now all of a sudden an energetic girl had come up to him, trying to talk to him. If Casey had a penny for how often he was approached for simply minding his own business then he would've had a full jar ready to cash in by now.

He was then made to be drawn to the mass collection of crackers, chocolate and marshmallows, all taken from the s'mores kits back on the snacks table. Yep, seems almost like routine for someone to not only interrupt his brooding - if he even called it brooding at the point - but to also offer some kind of item to him. Last time it was an umbrella with her, and now it seemed it had gone back to sugar again.

Casey would call it a stretch to say he was used to this, however, given how he had been in a state of near zen the whole afternoon up to this point, he decided that for once he'd indulge a stranger's attempt at talking to him. Trying to stay closed off wasn't working as of late.

He took a single cracker and nibbled at it, acknowledging "Rachel" with a nod. His voice was low but unlike the usual warning lace that came with it, he remained composed.

"Casey..."

_{Word Count: 371}

Stats: Stamina: 8 | Strength: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Wisdom: 6 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Fearless| Poison Resistance

Speech: #ffd95c| Thoughts: bold italics | Memories: italic #8e7cc3
wc: 360/200

Rachel grinned as Casey nibbled on the cracker, thankful he hadn’t brushed her off. She still hadn’t made many friends at the camp, and she was hoping to make a good impression on what could be her first friend. She looked around on the ground for a good stick to use for roasting marshmallows. I wonder if there is a magical way to do this, she thought to herself as she picked up what she thought was the perfect stick for roasting marshmallows. She skewered the marshmallow on the stick and began roasting it over the bonfire, the flames casting a warm glow on her face.

“I always find roasting marshmallows so relaxing,” she said, turning the marshmallow slowly to get an even toast. “There’s something about watching the flames and feeling the warmth that makes everything else sort of fade away.”

As she spoke, her mind drifted to a memory from a family camping trip a few years ago. She remembered sitting around a campfire like this one, her father strumming a guitar while her mother sang softly. Her older brothers were busy perfecting their marshmallow roasting techniques, arguing over who made the best perfect golden brown marshmallow. Rachel had been nestled between her parents, feeling the comforting warmth of the fire.

Her father’s deep voice bounced in her mind. “Rachel, you always make the best s’mores,” he had said with a chuckle, handing her a freshly roasted marshmallow. “You have the magic touch.”

The memory brought a soft smile to her lips, and she blinked back to the present. The bonfire mirrored the warmth she felt when she thought of her family and the memory. The marshmallow started to turn golden brown, and Rachel carefully placed it between two graham crackers with a piece of chocolate.

She held it out to Casey with a smile. “I’ll trade you this s’more for some of your popcorn. I promise it’ll be one of the best s’mores you’ve tried. I’ve been told I have a ‘magic touch,’” she said the last part with a slight chuckle. If only her father had known how right he had been.

Interacting with Casey Stone @Emily Shepherd

july 17th, 2024		wednesday, evening
wc: 300 ish		zyair ona'je - uagadou
interacting with: @Brookline Quinn		owl b4 interacting please :]

The second day of Summer Camp, and Zyair had yet to do just about anything meaningful with his time. He had interacted with everyone in his tent, and had gone to the opening feast, but those things weren't productive. The bonfire that was shining brightly was such a contrast from a distance, and Zyair realized he was going to add one more thing to his 'not productive' list.

He wasn't entirely sure if he should approach yet. Most of the people who were surrounding the campfire were in groups or pairs, and Zyair was completely alone. Of course, he knew he didn't need someone to go with but... well, wasn't it kind of awkward to go to an event for groups of people completely by yourself? He probably wasn't the only person alone but he certainly felt like it given the situation.

Fine, he'll just go back to his tent and call it an early night. Or maybe he'd trail around the outskirts of the camp to ponder his thoughts unbothered. He wasn't particularly obsessed with going to this bonfire anyway... Okay, maybe he really wanted to go hangout by the campfire but that was the end of it.

"Oh, excusez-moi excuse me- ahem, excuse me." He bumped into a girl as he was walking away from the fire. "Forgive me, I wasn't looking where I was going." The lighting away from the fire was dim, but he could still recognize her face- she was probably a Hogwarts student or similar- just like that girl, Scout.

"Are you alright?" Zyair hadn't knocked the girl over or anything like that, but he was still physically bigger than her, he hopes he didn't give her a bruise or something. "J'espère qu'elle va bien..." I hope she's okay/alright. He muttered under his breath, "I can walk you to the campfire if you'd like, I apologize again."

─•~❉✾↟✾❉~•─

─•~❉✾↟✾❉~•─

key thoughts •english •welsh• rp	interacting @Zyair Ona’je @Scout Fu-Hai
outfit	action becoming distracted / speaking to zyair

Going alone to the bonfire area, Brookline realized she should had not gone alone. It was kinda dark, traveling to the large bonfire. Though once she saw the flaming fire, she relaxed a little, not much though whereas she’d always had a strong tendency to light and only light. Bumping into a soft texture, the girl gasped. That is only a tent. Shut up. Her common sense seemed to speak for her.

Once she saw the huge difference from this bonfire to a regular campfire, Brookline gasped in pure amazement. Delightful noises and sounds travelled to her ears from tents that were huge on the inside. Her tent, an absolute winter carnival, was full of jokes and things she’d dreamt of as a starstruck wild child. Snapping back to the present, the light and colors dancing gracefully around, its show left Brookline with awe.

Stepping closer to the additive fire, Brookline felt something sticky on her shoes. Oh my gosh, just why? She thought as she lifted her shoe up and saw a sticky white mess on the bottom of the show. “Marshmallow? Are you kiddin’ me?” The Ravenclaw girl exclaimed as she let her foot drop to the ground, wiping her shoe on the grass. First, her father can’t even smile and be happy for his daughter yesterday and then now this? This summer camp has some serious bad luck for Brookline. Tears pricked her eyes.

Thud! A person-most likely a student-had bumped into Brookline. Whirling around, with a frightened look on her face, she saw in the faint light of the bonfire, someone tall and not that recognized. As she racked her brain for who the kid was, she could barely hear his apology nor his questions. Warmth billowing over her, Brookline only heard real words when the kid started speaking Frenchfeel free to correct me if im wrong!. From what Peter told her in letters, Brookline could only understand just a teeny tiny bit of French, of what her best friend had learned.

When the kid finished his string of sentences, Brookline spoke, “Oh! Yeah, I’m fine, of course! No need to apologize!” Sounding quite high-pitched, she felt the burning sensation of tears prick the very corners of her eyes. Forcing the salty water down, she forced a very large smile on her face. She did not want to let her frustration and sadness blow on a very innocent boy. As Brookline took a deep breath, she knew the kid would never believe that as she doesn’t even believe it! “Really, I’m fine. Just... How do I say it? I guess distracted? Or upset at way different things?” Not wanting to get to personal or anything, she did the bare minimum.

455.200 words

Roleplaying as Casey Stone from Ilvermorny

Speech: Bold 257379
Thoughts: Bold Italics

A Tolerable Chat with @Rachel Greenford

Casey found it strangely entertaining to see this random girl enjoying watching him snack on a cracker so casually. He struggled to get along with those with chipper attitudes after Nick went missing, yet for some reason he didn't feel aggravated or suffocated by this girl's presence. Probably because she wasn't all over him like a rash, bombarding him with questions like he was a teen idol or something.

In fact for the first time in a while, Casey was pretty content. Despite all that happened; between him and Emily, getting hit with a knockback jinx and still stuck in a whirlwind of mixed emotions collected over the year since his brother's disappearance, he was finding it surprising he was lucky enough to have calm and relaxed interactions like this.

He could see the dreamy look on her face as she reminisced about back home. Casey could easily relate, not that he would admit it. At the same time that Rachel was quietly thinking to herself, Casey remembered all the times Nick would take him camping back home in Oregon. A lot of campfire stories were exchanged in those times, along with the typical marshmallow toasting. But the one thing that made their trips together special were the ball games they had over the open fire, throwing and catching over the lit flames until they would wear themselves out. Casey thought back to the juggling balls that he kept under his bunk back at the cabin. How poetic that his games with Nick had blossomed into a fascination for muggle street circus to cope with his disappearance.

With a tolerant shrug Casey gave a few pieces of popcorn to Rachel in exchange for her s'more. Putting it between his lips he bit down, a satisfied hum followed after swallowing a bit.

Not bad.

_{Word Count: 349}

Stats: Stamina: 8 | Strength: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Wisdom: 6 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Fearless| Poison Resistance

july 17th, 2024		wednesday, evening
wc: 300 ish		zyair ona'je - uagadou
interacting with: @Brookline Quinn		owl b4 interacting please :]

It didn't take a genius to hear the exhaustion in this girl's voice, so Zyair paused before replying. He needed just a minute to think about what his reply even should be. Does he ask her if she wants to talk about it? Offer to walk her to her tent? He felt like... bad, obviously, he wasn't some monster.

"Ah, I see." He started, his voice slow. "I insist, though. If you're having a rough day the least I can do is accompany you closer to the fire." That and he was getting kind of cold standing so far out. It was either get closer or go back to his tent to get under some blankets. He was not planning on freezing out in this faux cold.

He offered his arm to the girl, it was rather dark and it'd be a shame if either of them tripped. "Or if you'd like, I can walk you back to your tent?" Either way, he wasn't going leave himself or her standing out in the open. "I'm Zyair, a student from Uagadou. You must be from Hogwarts, right?" Her face looked familiar (as everyone's face was beginning to), and her accent was very heavily not American. But he wasn't the best at identifying accents, maybe... um, Scottish?

Brown hair, blue eyes, yeah she was definitely from Hogwarts. Zyair knew he had seen someone with her exact facial features, even if said facial features were heavily dimmed in the dark night. It wasn't exactly difficult to pick out someone's face for Zy, he had gotten pretty good at it over the years. Maybe he should go into a career for it, like developing facial recognition software muggles could use. And wizards, if they weren't too stuck up.

─•~❉✾↟✾❉~•─

─•~❉✾↟✾❉~•─

key thoughts •english •welsh• rp	interacting @Zyair Ona’je @Scout Fu-Hai
outfit	action becoming distracted / speaking to zyair

Brookline waited anxiously for the boy’s response, as she thought he might ask her what was wrong. And if he asked that, Brookline probably would of started crying. She has absolutely zero desire for anyone to know. She hadn’t even told her tentmates yet! But why should she? It's her problem, shouldn’t keep it to herself? What was her mother used to say? Brooke, we do not.. What was it? Lie? Cheat? Steal? Prank? Pushing her mother ’s warning to the back of her head and focused on main tasks. Breathing. And specifically not crying.

It was cold. And why Brookline had gone out here is to be alone and think out her thoughts. “Uh sure... Yeah, I guess it is cold,” The Welsh Ravenclaw nodded, and on instinct, she awkwardly took the guy’s arm, as he had held it out. She quickly drew her hand back and softly spoke, “Hi Zyair. I’m Brookline. And yeah, I am. Ravenclaw. Erm, do ya have any idea of Hogwarts’ houses?

“Wh-why don’t you lead the way?” Brookline hoped the boy, Zyair didn’t think she was rude for not taking his arm. Taking a step forward, she shut her eyes and hoped she didn’t trip over a tree branch. Nope. No twig branch there. Just some wonderful great white blobs. Why they put marshmallows all over the ground??! Just absolutely DAMN PERFECT, her brain screamed.

226.200 words

Speech: #cda318| Thoughts: bold italics | Memories: italic #8e7cc3
wc: 323/200

Rachel felt accomplished as Casey accepted her s’more and even shared some of his popcorn. She could tell he had his guard up, but his small gestures of openness made her feel like she might be making a friend.

As they both sat quietly, enjoying their snacks and the warmth of the bonfire, she recalled another memory with her family. “You know, this fire reminds me of the stories my dad used to tell us around the campfire,” she said, glancing at Casey to see if he was listening. “He had a way of making every story feel magical like we were part of an adventure. He once told us about a hidden treasure buried deep in the forest near our campsite. My brothers and I spent the next day searching for it, even though we knew it was just a story.”

She chuckled softly at the memory, the warmth of the fire mirroring the warmth she felt from the memory. “It’s funny how those moments stick with you, you know? Even if the treasure wasn’t real, the adventure and the time spent together mattered.”

Rachel looked back at the flames, their dance reflecting in her bright blue eyes. “I guess that’s why I love bonfires so much. They have a way of bringing people together, creating memories that last. Even if things aren’t perfect, the fire makes everything feel a little better.”

While she spoke, she pieced together another s’more and enjoyed a few more popcorn bites. She savored the bite of her s’more, letting the sweetness melt in her mouth. She wanted the quiet moment and watched the fire dance against the dark backdrop of the night sky. She loved hearing the fire crackle and pop. It was one of her favorite sounds.

“So, do you have any favorite campfire stories or memories?” Rachel asked, looking at Casey with genuine interest. [color=cda318]“I’d love to hear about them if you’re willing to share.”[/color]

Interacting with Casey @Emily Shepherd