Closed Eyepatch Tent Eyebatch Pwnies

Arriving at Camp - 1 August 2022

It had come as something of a surprise when Mozor had invited Nicholas to bunk with him over the summer camp. Not an unwelcome surprise, the two boys had always been friendly, at least since their chess match back in their first year, but they’d never progressed to the point of a bonafide friendship. Still, the muggleborn boy from London was pleasant enough company and the broom racer had seen no harm in joining his fellow soon-to-be-third-year-Gryffindor over the course of summer camp. Of course, his enthusiasm for the very prospect of summer camp waned quickly upon seeing the exterior decorations of the tents. By Heaven above, they were gaudy. Nicholas was by no means a stick-in-the-mud pureblood, nor was he the type to judge the stylistic choices of others, but a collation of piratically themed tents seemed beyond the pale. Where was the subtlety? The tact?

Evidently, not in the interior of their eyepatch-themed tent. Yellow was not a colour that belonged in interior decorating.

“Christ defend…” The blasphemy left his lips before he could properly process what he was seeing.

The layout of the tent was nice enough, roomy and comfortable, but the boy could not bring himself to forgive the clashes of colour and decoration. An aquatic themed rug, mustard walls and coloured beanbags. It was a far cry from the understated thestral dorm that he’d called his home during the preceding year’s camp.

A few moments of silent terror flickered behind his eyes, only to be resolutely strangled, the sigh that replaced it both resigned and determined.

Taking the first bed that he saw, the lower bunk closest to the door, Nicholas flung both his broom and his bag on to it by way of claiming. It would serve its purpose well enough, and it doubled as the bed with the best means of escape should the remainder of his tentmates prove unbearable. Perhaps putting blind faith in the human equivalent of a golden retriever was unwise. Still, he may as well make the most of it.

Even if ‘it’ was feeling terribly out of place. The room was bright, and he was anything but. His hair had only grown longer and unkempt, brown waves knotting, due to a complete lack of combing, before tumbling over his shoulders, and the monochrome flannel and jeans combination he’d elected to wear were hardly better suited for the environs. At least in electing to wear sandals he’d conformed somewhat to the nautical theming the camp had seemingly elected to take.

With thoughts as to what exactly he’d gotten himself into playing across his mind, Nicholas collapsed on to his newly claimed bed, another sigh escaping his lips as his head hit the mattress.

Spectacular Banner by Leonard Oaksworth

Event
Arriving at Camp - August 1st

Interactions: @Nicholas McCowan = =

Mentions: @Leonard Oaksworth @Evelynn Decipio @Ivy Bellamy

For individuals of the radically extroverted persuasion to which Marshal subscribed, the more physical influences such as home and habitation faded in the looming shadow of those with whom he would share his precious time. And thus, when the flap guarding the tent entrance was displaced, and the resultant opening was utilized to saunter within, hazel eyes would immediately close in defense against the offensive color whose only aim was ocular violation. Visions of peers he knew would be joining him in the temporary quarters swam behind his eyelids, as he summoned them forth in an attempt to paint his mental image of what the summer would bring with their faces, and not the overwhelming pigment of ketchup's antithesis.

His best mate, Leo, upon whom he'd naturally jumped at the opportunity to share lodging. His best... something in Evelynn - mentor, advisor, girl friend in an unfortunate separation of two words that married so well - whose name may or may not have been added to the registry in his own handwriting prior to any form of proper consent. Ivy Bellamy, the girl who had demonstrated excellence in the role of third wheel at the Midspring Festival.
Then, of course, there were the others, however ambiguous their faces in the confines of his memory. Names also trailed in the midst of fuzzy recollection, yet he held little doubt that the entire troop would entertain an inseparable bond by summer's end. After all, if they were to be mashed together for an entire month, surely they would meld as one in a beautiful mixture of variant flavors.

Still, beside the aforementioned conglomeration of tent-mates, there remained one individual that tickled the sensitivities of deeper recognition. An acquaintance who, to this point in time, had evaded a promotion to the coveted title of 'friend,' despite continued instances of amiable interaction.
Discontent with the indifferent status of their relationship, Marshal had extended an invitation of mutual summer residence to this individual.

Presently, head still turned to one side in residual recoil, the boy allowed protective eyelids to slide open slowly, absorbing the interior space with educated caution.
Upon advanced consideration, he supposed he could survive an elongated stay within the tent. Though its walls shouted their presence at a volume henceforth unrivaled, he had always been a fan of saturated shades - if not in such mass quantity. He would simply have to grow accustomed.
Gaze encompassing the room's more nuanced features, expression now bearing the glow of appreciation for its spacious and convenient qualities, he halted at the sight of Nicholas McCowan - the unnamed acquaintance - stretched across the nearest bunk with an expression rivaling the muted nature of his clothing.
"Well, you look right at home in here," the Gryffindor remarked, alluding to the other boy's obvious clash with the decor. Amusement was evident in a lopsided smirk as his feet carried him near the bed's edge.

With a royal blue t-shirt topping baggy shorts of white, and a head of hair closely associated with the wall color, he objectively looked as though he belonged there - more so than the diffident boy he faced, at the very least. A duffel bag was slung over one shoulder, while his treasured Silver Arrow occupied the opposite hand. It was true that he would not be involved in any events wherein the broom would be used over the summer, given that the Gryffindor quidditch team had placed second in the house cup, and would therefore be excluded from the inter-house match. But in no way did that mean he couldn't find a time and place on his own.

"Glad you decided to join us," he added genuinely, before mischief coated his tone once more. "Perhaps we can find a chess board to use over the summer, for old time's sake." A pause followed, a glance thrown to the multitude of empty bunks. "Looks like we're the first ones here."

Dear @Nicholas McCowan, @Evelynn Decipio, @Marshal Mozor,

August 1, 2022

xxxxxxxxSummer camp, 2022. Maggie had not attended the summer camp hosted before her own first year, on account of she had no friends at school yet and the idea of having to engage in games while watching everyone else enjoy themselves with the friends that they had already made. This year was her year, though! Maggie had decided to be in the same tent as June, her best friend for all intents and purposes, which somehow landed her in a tent with, like, a ton of upperclassmen. A ton of popular upperclassmen, at that. Maggie had heard loads about Evelynn Decipio, in particular. So here she was, stepping inside the tent she had been assigned.

Immediately, her eyes were assaulted by the intrusive yellow that was splattered on the walls, reminiscent of burst egg yolks in rusting metal pans. She squinted, though she didn't mind the color much. Maggie quite enjoyed bright colors.

"Yeesh. I like it," Maggie cheered, surveying the spacious room. The amenities of the wizarding world never failed to amaze her. The exterior wasn't nearly as big as the interior, though it was probably for good reason at this point. She tossed her bags onto the lower bunk of the bed second closest to the entrance. June had confessed that she preferred the top bunk, once, long ago, and Maggie was on a mission to respect that. June got what June wanted! Because Maggie really thought she was a good friend.

Sitting down at the edge of the bed, Maggie took in the assembled members of her tent, who sat before her in all their upper classman, mature glory. "Hi! I'm Maggie," she greeted, folding her hands into her lap. "Who are you guys? Oh, lemme guess. I'm good at guessing."

Matching faces to names. She knew a good amount of the people slated to sign up, simply through word of mouth, and this should be pretty straightforward. She started with Nicholas, pointing at him with squinty eyes. "You're... Marshal Mozor. And you're," here, she turned attention to the real Marshal. "You're Nicholas."

Evelynn was easy. "You're Evelynn, obviously. Everyone knows that. How close did I get?"

Arriving at Camp

Despite the impression she may have given off to some in her first year, June Selwyn was actually quite an excitable person. She had packed for summer camp just a few days after arriving back home, the rest of the month spent re-packing and trying to find the best configuration for things to be the most efficiently packed. And while she wasn't completely happy with the final configuration, it was good enough, and that would simply have to do.

June had quickly found Maggie after she arrived to the stadium, and the two signed up for a tent together. Maggie seemed too excited over the idea of an "eyepatch" tent for June to suggest literally any other one, and so eyepatch it was.

June circled around the tent, wanting to make absolutely sure that it was the correct one before going in. Well, it certainly matched the description and location... Her billowy shorts seemed to float in the slight breeze, and her white blouse was a definite stand out against the fabric of the tent. "Are you sure this is the one, Maggie?" June looked up, only to see that her friend had seemingly already gone inside. It was moments like these when June remembered just how different her and Maggie were (and these moments came quite often). With a deep breath in and a deep breath out, June entered the tent.

"Merlin, Maggie, wait for me next time please, would you?" June looked around. She and Maggie were not alone in the tent. "Oh! Um, hello everyone." June offered a polite smile as the took in the space and its inhabitants so far. The tent was not as obtrusive as the exterior may have hinted at it being. The not-quite-white walls and fuzzy blue rug made the room almost peaceful. Almost. She tucked her hair behind her ear, still not completely used to it being gone, worn loose and not in plaits, and two, being so short. The decision to cut her hair at the end of the school year had been quite impulsive, and June still wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

June set her things on the bed above Maggie's. An innocently excited smile crept onto her face. June had never had a top bunk before, and she was very, very excited to try it out. She made a note to thank Maggie later.

"Hi! I'm Maggie."

June stood beside their bed, leaning against the posts of the bunk, looking at her tent-mates. She offered a small wave to everyone. "And I'm.. June. June Selwyn." That was the first time she'd ever introduced herself like that. Was that cool? These upperclassmen seemed cool. June wanted them to think she and Maggie were cool.

But getting people's names wrong was certainly not the way to do that. June playfully hit Maggie's arm. "Maggie, that's Marshal," she gestured to the rising third-year. "We met him at Oaksworth's birthday party, remember?" June smiled at him, then looked towards... "McCowan, then, correct? And Evelynn... I don't know your last name, sorry." June blushed slightly and cursed herself internally for not going to more quidditch games last year. She looked around at everyone, they seemed a friendly enough bunch so far. "Nice to meet everyone, then."

Permission granted from Maggie Hawkins

Arrival at Camp | @Marshal Mozor, @Evelynn Decipio, @Maggie Hawkins & @June Selwyn

Nicholas’s response to Marshal was a dignified grunt, the exasperated sigh dying in his throat before being released as a rattling mumble, “It’s feckin’ yellow, Mozor, why’d you pick the yellow one?” Still, he couldn’t hide the grin that had formed as he complained. It had been nice to be invited, a gesture of goodwill and friendship that genuinely filled him with a sense of warmth, even if the tent they’d be calling home for the next few weeks was an affront to nature in terms of its colour scheme.

With exaggerated effort, he raised himself to a sitting position, dragging one foot onto the bed, sandal and all, “Pleasure to be here, thanks for the invite, mate.” The smirk only deepened at the offer of chess, “Come off it, you get lucky one bloody time…”

Reminiscences as to a game of chess two years prior were interrupted by the arrival of their third tent member, one who Nicholas was equal parts surprised and entirely unshocked to see. Evelynn Decipio was the Gryffindor quidditch captain, a position he supposed he now equalled as racing captain, but was also a prefect and as dignified as he was slovenly. Their last summer camp adventure had ended in something of a rivalry, although it seemed that she at least shared in his distaste for the colouration of the interior design.

Mercifully, the wallpaper changed to an offwhite alabaster, and Nicholas couldn’t help but give a curt nod of appreciation, before answering her greeting with one of his own.

“Decipio. I am. I take it that you are as well,” His tone was lukewarm, their small rivalry had never been outwardly hostile, but he had no doubts that there’d be a rekindling of muted competition, outward offer of truce be damned. “Truce,” he smiled, and lied through his teeth. (@Evelynn Decipio, ‘truce’, my arse, I ain’t losing this year, the thought would drift).

Unaware of his accidental slipping of thoughts, Nicholas’s final response to her question as to beds was nonverbal, a patting of the bed upon which he sat with his left hand, as if to claim the territory in the same way that his neanderthalic ancestors may have. He was quite proud of his conquest of the bed closest to the door, a means of egress for his planned midnight dalliances.

Of course, being near the door also meant that he was the first to bear witness to the arrival of two, presumably, first year girls one after the other. To his great surprise, the first of the girls to arrive, a taller brunette, claimed the bed next to his. He’d have assumed she was entering her second year, were she not friendly with the girl who followed her. An absolutely tiny blonde. Of course, such assumptions as to age were dispelled quickly. They’d evidently met Mozor and Oaksworth before, and that, naturally, meant that they had likely attended Hogwarts at least briefly. Second years then.

Of course, second years who had no idea who he was. Maggie, the first one had introduced herself as, assumed he was Marshal and vice-versa. The captain grimaced, but soon found that her friend, June Selwyn, was quick to correct the mistake.

“Yeah, you’re right,” He answered nodding toward the short girl, “I’m McCowan.” He jerked his head to Mozor, “That’s Mozor.”

“Pleasure to meet you both,” He raised his hand in a lazy greeting, “I take it you know Oaksworth then? Gonna assume he’s in here with us too.” The Welshman who enjoyed complaining about noise, memories of a shared train carriage ride a year to the day vaguely tickled at the back of Nicholas’s mind. What an absolutely eclectic mix of people.

Spectacular Banner by Leonard Oaksworth

Event
Arriving at Camp - August 1st

Interactions:===== @Nicholas McCowan @Evelynn Decipio @Maggie Hawkins @June Selwyn

Mentions: @Leonard Oaksworth @Ivy Bellamy = =

”You mean to tell me the color of mustard wouldn’t have been your first choice?” The quip sprang from Marshal’s mouth in false wonder, directed at the complaints of one flannel-clad McCowan. ”And here I picked this one out specifically with you in mind.” The arm holding his broom flared out to one side in an exaggerated shrug of disappointment.
It was a fib in the spirit of jest, of course, reality being that he hadn’t picked the tent at all. Rather, he had solicited Leo for the specifics of their accommodation - since their respective boarding would clearly be one in the same - and subsequently learned that those details had been decided prior.
And yet, was it necessary for Nicholas to know that? Or did the integrity of the joke take precedence? The answer was obvious.

His head would tilt loosely to one side. ”Call it luck, but I just assumed you might want a chance to redeem yourself. Losing to me can’t be good for your reputation, so maybe I’ll go easy on you this time.”
The good-natured exchange was interrupted by the rustle of a tent flap, and an ensuing huff of disdain he could identify from a mile away.

Spinning on his heel to greet Evelynn, the first thing he noted was the presence of her wand, a sight which had been etched permanently in his mind over the course of many a magical tutoring session. And besides that, it had been pointed at him on a number of occasions exceeding a total of one.
But the image before him now lay contrary to those ingrained within his head, the tool in her hand altogether different than that which she normally brandished.
A wave of guilt overtook him, as the distinct memory of a hearty snap from beneath his buttocks echoed in his ears, signaling the quick and far from painless demise of her previous wand.

A sheepish grin occupied his face as the girl banished the wall color to the depths of disgrace, summoning forth a more uniform and dignified shade in its place, befitting her own personality. The swift execution hardly came as a surprise; after all, it was difficult to picture Evelynn existing amidst a sea of yellow, let alone living there for a month.
Commenting on the change of scenery fell to the wayside as she turned to address the two boys. His eyes followed her hand to her sleeve when it deposited the brand new wand within.
”It wasn’t my choice,” he said, admitting what he’d withheld from Nicholas. His tone matched his bashful expression as he added, ”I like the new wand.”

He watched as the red-head spoke to Nicholas, offering a smirk as the catalyst to an exchange that Marshal did not understand. There seemed to be a note of challenge beneath the surface of their words, despite the ‘truce’ they apparently agreed to.
His brow creased slightly in curiosity, though he elected to leave it for now, skipping to Evelynn’s question directed at him.
”No, I haven’t seen her. Not since the Midspring Festival, in fact.”

Yet another inquiry would leave her lips then, gaze drifting to encompass the yet unoccupied bunks. He watched closely.
”Nick’s got this one,” he gestured to the boy seated behind him, ”but I haven’t chosen one yet.”
Following the response, Evelynn would proceed to cross the tent and claim a topmost bed at the rear, perching atop it like a queen whose title reflected the elegance in her posture.
”I hadn’t chosen one yet.” Mischief tugged at the corners of his mouth as he moved to give chase, but was stopped by the eager squeals of one soon declared to be ‘Maggie.’

Whirling to find the newcomer already seated on the bed nearest to Nick, the boy was quickly assaulted by a naive confusion between himself and his flannel-clad counterpart. The unintended insult only dug deeper when he realized he had met this girl before - as they had both attended Leo’s recent birthday party - a fact that would soon be pointed out by another who entered the tent. Maggie finished her greeting by declaring Evelynn’s popularity.

Marshal turned to Eve in the wake of the comment, eyes rolling as he mocked lightly, ”Everyone knows that.”
His attention would then shift to the latest addition to the group, another face he recognized from the aforementioned Oaksworth party.
”Thanks, June. Good to know somebody remembers a no-name like me.” A gently playful smirk was aimed for Maggie. ”As for you, Magpie, I’ll have you know that you’d never get us mixed up again if you saw us play a game of chess.” A nickname assigned at random, a toss of the smirk to Nicholas, and another turn as he finished his trek to back of the tent.

Tossing his bag unceremoniously to the top bunk furthest down the western wall, whose head lay diagonal to that of Evelynn’s bed, he placed his broom against the wall and ascended the small set of stairs. Flopping lazily onto the mattress, he allowed his legs to dangle over its crest, placing two hands on the cushioned surface behind him and leaning backwards.
A bright-eyed glance was thrown at Eve before scanning the area from his newfound vantage point.

The mention of Leo’s surname immediately caught his ear.
”Yeah, Leo will be here, or else I’ll have to hunt him and that beautiful little dragon of his down.”

Arriving at Camp | 1 August 2022

Hat | Outfit | Left Sock | Right Sock | Shoes

"I call the top buuuunnnkkk!" Haven yelled as she ran into the tent, jumping over the couch to stake her claim on one of the beds on the wall opposite the entrance. Her pygmy puff, Marcus, hung on for dear life to her hair, while his little home swung dangerously behind her. She carefully set down his little hut (as she wasn't a complete monster) before making sure he was safe on the pillow of the bed before hopping up herself, foregoing any set of stairs or ladder that might have been useful. it may have taken a few attempts, her legs dangling uselessly in midair as she tried to heave her way up, but eventually, she managed to noodle herself over the railing and into the bed, despite her getting into some weird positions with legs going every which way.

Haven was ready for the best summer camp ever, despite having cried over the thought of leaving again only the night before. Poor Marcus may have been used as a tissue on an occasion, though she had woken up early that morning to give him an extra bubbly bath to make sure he smelled extra fresh for summer camp. Then she gave Merlin one too because she didn't want him to feel left out.

Final items went into her trunk that morning, and Haven quickly went through everything to make sure she had it all. All of her school clothes, everything for summer camp, her books, toiletries, lots of extra treats (she was going to fatten up poor Marcus), her guitar, and lots and lots of socks and hats. Her mother managed to sneak in a few treats before she shut the lid and they headed off.

And thus, the summer began, with Haven gleefully announcing her presence by sprinting across the room. She was so glad that Ivy had invited her to be in her tent! They'd have so much fun together! Not to mention everyone else in their tent! Now that she was sitting in her perch, she could see everything- and everyone. She recognized people here! Haven gave Evelynn a wave. What a stroke of luck. Her bestest prefect friend was in her tent too! They would have so many fun adventures... just maybe not quite as bubbly.

"We're going to have so much fun this summer," Haven declared, happily looking around. "Although, I do think the walls in here are quite bare. Maybe it'd be better if the walls were... yellow?" She pulled out her wand and changed the wall behind her to an eye-burning shade of neon yellow. Much better, in her opinion.

The wall across from the entrance is now an aggressive shade of neon yellow.

"Now it's plenty happy in here. Hey, I'll have my mum send us all some treats! And maybe we can get some MATCHING HATS?!?! That would almost be as cool as touching a starfish! And I've never touched a starfish, although I really want to. I hope one will wash up on our beach, though I don't think one will. Plus, Merlin would probably lick it first anyway, the silly cat. I haven't asked Marcus what he'd think about them yet, though. Marcus, what are your thoughts on starfishes?" She stared at the still slightly scraggly pygmy puff for about a second before continuing with her rambles. "That's precisely what I thought. You know, maybe the Black Lake will have some for us to find. Or maybe there's like a magical version! Maybe it glows in the dark and we could stick it to the ceiling as a nightlight! Now that I think about it, the ceiling is kinda plain too... and it might get dark in here at night. I don't want to crash into the wall if I need to go to the toilet in the middle of the night! Though I do reckon I might just be tuckered out from all the day's activities once we get to that point. I do sleep pretty heavily. I mean, I did sleep through that fire in the Hufflepuff common room. I was okay though! And everyone else was mostly okay too, more or less. That was a fun morning the night after. Hey, do you think they'll have doughnuts for breakfast?"

Finally, Haven took a pause to exhale. Did she breathe throughout that entire thing? Nobody knows, not even Haven herself. She just pet Marcus happily, as if she did not spew out a thousand words in three seconds.