Summer Camp Campfire Stories Closed

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Hjørdis sighed softly as she sat on an empty bench, slightly distant from the rest of the group. In front of her, there was a beautiful bonfire that was very much roaring. Gently blowing on the marshmallow that she had cooked a little over the campfire a few moments before, she waited for it to cool a little before taking a bite. Nearer to the fireplace, a group of people had gathered around. They were telling stories or something. She was not really one to tell scary stories, in all honesty. Her life had enough scary stories in it without her making up more. There was just no need. That being said, she was not really one to tell any stories. It was one of those things that she had awkwardly done to help children sleep in the past but it was not something she chose to do.

Despite that, she did not mind listening to other people's stories. It was easier to just there and listen than to actually talk to people, after all. Talking required much more effort. Besides, she had plenty of practising listening over the past month... or many. People were so noisy! Her house had not been quiet in a while and she was not quite used to that yet. It had an unusual amount of life these days. Hjørdis could not help but occasionally miss the peaceful silence. She sometimes found herself going for a walk or taking some time away from others, just to get a bit of alone time.

It was strange though. After several hours alone, she sometimes started to find herself missing the noise. This was not something she had experienced before. She was one of those people who could spend days without talking to anyone else. However, things had changed. Hogwarts, over the years, had changed her. The silence, sometimes, seemed a little boring and she found herself getting better at this whole 'listening' thing.

So, today, she figured she could join the campfire and sit down, perhaps listen to a story or two. It would make a nice change from the hecticness of a large crowd talking as well as from the silence she was used to.

Outfit of the day

OOC: Jensen won't be telling a story but she is around so you have someone to listen to your stories.

From the start, winter sat near the fire, the embers reflecting off her bright red eyes. The heat of the fire was calming as it touched her skin, the sky asleep, with no sun. Oddly the light of the fire didn't hurt winter like the sun did. She stretched as she scanned the area around her. She saw multiple people eating some white circular thing on the edge of a stick. This odd food was something winter was not sure about, she hasn't seen a lot of human food before so this was new.

She slightly tilted her head as she picked one up, piercing through it with a stick she had found. She watched as others put it over the fire and so she did the same. She sat listening to the stories people were telling, she hadn't planned on telling any since she has nothing to really tell, but she was trying to come up with something. Maybe something will come to her eventually. She was so interested in the stories being told that she forgot about the marshmallow.

She fwipped her head around to see her marshmallow on fire. She let out a tiny squeal as she pulled the stick closer to her, blowing out the flame. The marshmallow, now burnt didn't look very appetizing yet she refused to let it go to waste. She smelled it and let out a deep breath. It smelled so good! She has never smelt something so amazing before. She waited for it to cool down as she once again listened to stories being passed around.

A few minutes went by and she put the marshmallow in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she chewed it. This had to be the absolute BEST thing she has EVER tasted in her entire life. Amazing stories, amazing snacks, what else did this lovely camp have to offer? Though the future was unknown, she couldn't wait for more things to come!

OOC: winter might eventually tell a story but for now she's just listening and exploring things-

[font=Times new Roman] Outift Hello hello Mentioning: Hello hello Interacting: @Winter Wolfhartz

[font=Times New Roman] Paige loved campfires. She loved the marshmallows, the laughs all of it. And the spooky stories... oh! What a joy! What love Paige had for those things. She was looking forward for bone chilling stories by the warm fire. She knew she would enjoy this night very much. On the topic of camping..

Paige already felt the chill, but she wouldn't admit. Yes, that's right. It was on her family's yearly camping trip that she got her werewolf bite. It was incredibly scary, she was terrified. Maybe she could tell that story.... just changed a bit, right? Yes. She could get some ideas from that, and maybe some from all the horror movies she's seen.

She was more of a listening and watching scary stories, not telling them, so there would be no promise of an excellent story, but she might as well try. When she got to the campgrounds, she could see and feel the fire. Only two people were there, a professor and Winter. Paige smiled and stepped over the wood to sit next to Winter. "Hey, Winty. What's up? Will you be telling a story?" She asked, getting a marshmallow and sliding it on the stick. She loved her marshmallows extra toasted, so she waited in till it caught fire before blowing the fire out and grabbing some Graham crackers and chocolate and pressed them together. She wasn't going to tell her story just yet. "I'll be telling one, just not yet." She said.

Winter had been going around doing a lot of things she's never done before, roasting marshmallows, making a torch, etc etc..... and after everything else she noticed more people had been arriving, so she decided to make her way back to the fire. She sat and grabbed another marshmallow, burning it once again.

Soon enough she heard a familiar voice greet her, her friend Paige. She turned to look at her fellow Hufflepuff and smiled. "Oh hey Paige! How are you?" she asked as she blew the fire out from her marshmallow. "Yeah ill be telling a story sooner or later" she responded to her. Before paige had even got a chance to pick up her own marshmallow winters face glew up. "HAVE YOU TRIED THESE YET THEIR AMAZING!!!" her voice had gotten higher than usual as she stuffed her marshmallow in her mouth.

It had to be obvious this was the first time she had ever had a marshmallow- i mean why else would anyone freak out over it like this-? She noticed that paige burnt hers as well "ooooh you like them like that too!" she asked as she picked up another marshmallow, squishing it and smiling. "I thinks puffs are my new favorite snack-" she had called them puffs from the name on the bag, she hadn't taken the time to read the word 'marshmallows' under the brand name.

"You know" her eyes fixated on the fire as she slightly tilted her head. " Ive never been to a summer camp before, but this is amazing!" she said, her thoughts running around how happy she was. This was one of the best days of her life.

@Paige Grant

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As Scarlet walked closer to the large bonfire, the warm ember light radiating from the crackling flames grew larger, illuminating the faces of the students and professors that had already taken their places on some of the various benches positioned around the fire, one of whom she was able to pick out as her head of house.

The slight chill that she had till then felt through the small holes in her knitted cardigan quickly dissipated, she was now passing the outer benches around the bonfire, and took a seat near two younger girls she assumed could be closer to her year. She recognised one of the bags of white sweets to be marshmallows, she had never seen them being hovered over the fire as some students were doing.

Scarlet had began eating the marshmallows as they were, as she had done and enjoyed in the past, when she heard the excited exclamation of the white-haired girl nearest to her. "HAVE YOU TRIED THESE YET THEIR AMAZING!!!" The small flames that had once been on the very marshmallow the girl was referring to were now gone, along with the sweet itself, and the girl continued to speak and laugh with the dark haired girl beside her, the two comparing marshmallows. Deciding to sample this for herself, Scarlet grabbed another marshmallow and added it onto the end of a long stick. She twisted the stick around between her fingers, catching the sweet in the wavering flames until it was an even golden brown colour. It was delicious, albeit still a little hot coming straight off the fire. The once soft exterior was now crunchy and encased a sweet gooey centre - although she probably should have waited a second before biting into it!

After the pleasure of the marshmallow, her mind began going over a couple of the stories she had thought about on the way over to the campfire, she remembered hearing one of the two girls talking about telling a story of her own. Scarlet knew she wanted to eventually tell one of her own, but before that she wanted to get to know some of the unfamiliar faces around the bonfire first. As she stood up and moved to the other end of her bench and closer to the two girls, she accepted a bottle of the fizzing drinks being handed out by a house elf, she hoped it might go some way to soothe the slight burn she could now feel tingling on her tongue. "Hey! How spooky do you think these 'scary stories' will be? Scarlet asked, directing her question at either or both of the girls. My name is Scarlet by the way, you should try one of these drinks" she suggested whilst directing her gaze to the bottle in her hand, "if you've been as clumsy as me and gone and burnt your mouth on these marshmallows, it helps a lot!"

@Winter Wolfhartz, @Paige Grant

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Interacting with: @Hjørdis Jensen

There was something about camping and campfires that hit a soft spot in Colette. For a while in her formative years it became one of several bonding activities between her and her father. As per usual, against her mother’s wishes, but that just made Colette enjoy it all the more. The tradition was one she also shared with her siblings when they’d come home for breaks, starting from the time she’d officially taken custody. The smell of charcoal and marshmallows, the night sky above them, and the rustling of the trees and the sounds of nature (probably including Calypso slinking around in the bushes somewhere far away) all brought a familiar sense of nostalgia and comfort to her.

Of course, with the camping and campfire tradition brought with it scary stories. Colette had quite a few to tell herself, as adventurous as she was. But tonight, she would love to hear from her constituents – whether they be student or the older individuals around.

Approaching the refreshments table she couldn’t help but notice the vibrant hair of one Head of Slytherin. Her interactions with the woman were few and far in between, so she took it as an opportunity to strike up a conversation. Taking an array of s’more making implements onto a paper plate along with a glass of the drinks, she marched her way over and plopped herself next to Professor Jensen.

“Evening Professor.” She said as she settled down and placed the paper plate between them. “Looks like a good night for some scary stories, isn’t it?” A marshmallow was skewered, and now roasting over the fire. As the fluffy sugar blob browned, her other hand took a sip of her juice. The sweetness rushed to her tastebuds, along with a few tarte notes. “Not bad, makes me wish I had something to make it a little more interesting, but it’ll have to do.” She nodded. Part of her regretted not bringing along her father’s silver flask, but alas, with the mischief those children got around to was something she did not trust around something so volatile.

She could barely trust them with books.

When she deemed her marshmallow heated to perfection, she took it from the fire and swirl it around the air to let it cool. Taking her graham crackers and milk chocolate, she quickly made herself a campfire delicacy. Setting it beside her to cool, she shook her hands to remove any crumbs. “Got any stories to tell, Professor?” She asked.

Fireside Rules | Scarlet's Story

Soon enough the atmosphere at the campfire became somewhat spookier, other students had begun telling their ghost stories. A boy who looked to be about Scarlet’s age told the story of a hooked killer that terrorised a young couple in their car, it got her mind racing about what kind of story she could tell. She remembered one that her cousin had told her last summer that she thought would be quite fitting considering where they all were.

When the camp grew quieter again, Scarlet began her story. “It was on a night much like this, in a campsite not too different from this one, where this story, or as some would have you believe, true story, takes place. Now I’m sure many of you will have heard of some of the superstitious rules that people are advised to follow when dealing with ghosts or evil entities.” Scarlet could see some confused looks she decided to elaborate. “There’s things like, not communicating with them alone, or don’t use things like Ouija boards in graveyards, or even always say goodbye to cut ties with the spirit. But there’s one rule that rarely gets mentioned, maybe because no one speaks about it, or maybe simply because no one really knows the consequences of breaking it. Don’t walk back from the campfire alone.” Scarlet paused, for dramatic effect of course, or maybe because she had started to spook herself out.

“So back to the campsite. There was a group of five or six teenagers, they had just been for an evening swim in the lake close to their campsite, and were finishing off their meal by the campfire, when one of them had the idea to tell ghost stories. The friends remained huddled around the fire late into the night, by which time any evening light had been erased from the sky and their once raging bonfire had been reduced to glowing embers. It was at this point that one of them, who had grown colder and colder as the fire slowly got smaller, said they were going to head back to the cabin. The others, not yet tired, and wanting to finish the last story said they would join him in a few minutes.” Scarlet thought by now most people could guess what was coming next, but she pressed on.

“The group by the fire watched as the boy slowing walked away from the light towards the cabin, with each step, becoming more consumed by the darkness surrounding him.”

“As is the unfortunate truth with most of these scenarios, the others hadn’t realised anything was wrong until the next morning. It wasn’t until then that they realised the boy’s bed was still made from the night before, that his pyjamas were still neatly folded at the end of it…that he didn’t make it back to the cabin. They ran outside, calling out for him, and what they opened the door to see both shocked and terrified them. They mustn’t have been able to see it in the dark, but in the day it was clear, small pieces of fabric torn from what the boy had been wearing made a messy yet distinct trail from the fire to the cabin, cutting short before each.” Scarlet had remembered her cousin’s version of the story involved an even messier trail of something quite different, but she felt her story was spooky enough.

“If the group had thought to check the outskirts of the nearby forest, if the police that were soon called had bothered to further investigate the strange markings in the soil near the trail, they might have noticed the blood splatter on the trees or the faint drag marks leading to the forest. Not that it would have made any difference to that boy, he had already walked back from the campfire alone.”

She noticed a couple of students giving almost reassuring looks at each other, as if saying ’I’ll walk back to the cabin with you,’ it was with that Scarlet knew she had done a somewhat decent job of retelling her cousin’s story. She relaxed back into the bench, ready to listen to some more stories.

Tagging | @The Narrator