Summer Camp Cabin of the Occamy Closed

Everyone seemed to be settling in nicely. She recognized a few of them, there was Alaska from the common room, and Kalani her study partner. Luna she recognized right away. They were best friends after all! It was awesome that she was able to snag the same cabin as her. But the Professor's talking kept her from conversing with her friend. It would be rude to talk while she is after all.

She nodded along with the Professor's speech. They wouldn't be to hard to follow. Once it was over Evelyn slid herself into a sitting position and landed onto the floor. She should probably wash up before sleeping, so she crouched down and retrieved her toiletries bag. It consisted off the necessities, a small thing of toothpaste, shampoo, and conditioner. But also held a miniature comb to tame her choppy locks.

It was her luck that someone else was also looking for a partner. Luckily it was somebody she was already familiar with, otherwise Evelyn might've been more hesitant to approach her in case she already had somebody else in mind. But Alaska didn't appear to so she slid into the sandals she brought with her and trotted over. Hopefully she would be willing to go.

Action. Approach Alaska asking to be partner.

Everything seemed clear-cut at this point. Follow the rules, which was as about straightforward as one can get. However, once Luna worked past that she realized she knew no one else here. Maybe she shared classes with some of the others, but she didn't make a point of remembering most people in general. The platinum-haired girl knew she needed to introduce herself to someone else if teamwork was going to be something at all. Calmly observing the interactions of her fellow students, she watched for any opportunity. And so it presented itself.

Luna's amber eyes locked on a bedraggled looking boy sitting on a bunk with an umbrella sitting across his legs. She had a faint idea of his identity. At the very least she knew him to be a Prefect for Ravenclaw House. Initially, she wondered how he had managed to obtain the position, but the world-weary girl knew just as well that looks were almost always deceiving. The mystery was nagging at her, after all, she was adverse to unanswered questions. 

She carefully approached the bunk of the enigmatic Ravenclaw Prefect. "Excuse me? Aren't you a Ravenclaw Prefect? Are you ok? You don't look so well." Luna said as she twirled a strand of hair in her hand, a reflexive anxious tic. She was always so self-conscious of the fact that she did it too. 

A girl. One of the girls walked up to his bed. Right off the bat he knew she was trouble. She had hair that was almost white, with a little bit of yellow somewhere in there. It was a direct contrast to his hair, blacker than a puddle of ink and as ruffled and unruly as the feathers of a raven, fresh from a fight with a far larger bird.

Her eyes, too. His were dark, alive and glaring. They were the most active part of his body, glinting in the meager light. They pierced forward and onward, alive and sharp. They seemed almost trapped behind the tired eyelids, like living dark gemstones taken from some stone idol and placed in a corpse.

Her eyes were amber, the color of a cat’s, of a predators. She was not normal, not safe. If he was lucky she just wanted to eat him. If he was unlucky then there was little hope. He realized his position, trapped between two beds. She was blocking his exit, no doubt a calculated move. Then again, it was the obvious move. He had been stupid, had assumed they would wait until he went to sleep.

They were making their move now, they had foreseen his plan. Or at least this girl had. The other students didn’t seem to be making any overt moves towards him, but that could just be a ruse, a trap to lure him into attacking the girl in front of him. They could be waiting for an excuse to attack, a chance to make it look like it was his fault.

As his mind raced with thoughts related to an unrealistic death by cannibalism, his face remained impassive, glinting eyes staring at her face, trying to read what her next move was going to be.

She started to twirl a strand of hair, a motion that made no sense at all. What was she doing, signalling the others? Telling them to hold off or to attack or circle around and attack him through the wall? They weren’t reacting to her hair-twirling, or at least not that he could see. He made sure to not move his eyes or his head, relying on his peripherals to give him some information on what the others were doing.

"Excuse me? Aren't you a Ravenclaw Prefect? Are you ok? You don't look so well."

The girl asked if he was a prefect of ravenclaw, and then asked if he was alright, mentioning that he didn’t look so well. Which meant she poisoned him. Either that or someone else did. A few minutes passed in silence as the boy tried to discover if he was sick or poisoned.

He felt fine, maybe a little bit tired. Probing a bit deeper, checking over how he was doing for the first time in days Kaegen discovered that he was more than a little bit tired. He was a lot tired. Too tired. It shocked him a bit, the realization that his actions did have consequences, that they were having consequences. No sleep meant being tired, if you kept it up it meant being really tired.

Was that it, did he just look tired to her? It was possible the girl mistook exhaustion for some sickness, after all. He snapped out of his self reflection, realizing quickly what he had been doing. The boy shoved his thoughts to the far back of his mind, putting off thoughts pertaining to sleep for another day.

”Prefect of ravenclaw, under authority of the black burn and sir happiness. Why are you twirling your hair?”

She must have been signalling someone. If it wasn’t that, then he wasn’t sure what it was. But he was trapped by a predatory, cunning girl that was doing something weird. So he had to start somewhere.

His voice was whispery, quiet. It only lended more to his corpselike appearance and demeanor. An alien boy with a freakishly long umbrella staff sitting in a cabin thinking about how a 12 year old girl was going to eat him.

The cabin was off to a great start.

When she was given the go ahead, Kalani slipped into the bunk below Hengist. She sat down on the edge, huffing as she dropped her jaw into her hands. This whole thing was rubbish. All she wanted was to be at her camp. Which was, definitely, one-hundred percent, always was and always would be, better than any other camp. Didn't matter if this one was magic.

Her eyes trailed around the room, glancing at everyone for a second before noticing that they all had their eyes set on one thing. Kalani followed their gazes to find Professor Scheinberg standing looking at them all, clearly expecting and waiting for full attention. Unsure if the waiting was due to her, she shrunk back a little into the bottom bunk as the professor started to talk.

Though she didn't want to admit it, she felt herself perk up at the mention of activities. If they were anything like her own camp - football or rounders or arts and crafts - then maybe she'd be fine. She quickly remembered she was supposed to be in a mood, and pushed all the good thoughts out of her brain and let the grumpy ones come in again. She folded her arms and forced herself to consider the depressing idea that the group would find teamwork a lot more difficult because of her. When she made herself imagine that she was a setback, it was always easy to sulk.

She didn't have much problem with the times; she was always a morning person, and was used to waking up at six or seven, sometimes earlier, just too eager to crack on with the day. But if someone asked, she'd complain about it. She gave the professor a slight, disgruntled nod to acknowledge that she got what she'd said - she wondered for a second if the professor had been told she had a deaf student - and once the professor was gone, she laid down on her back. She flung her arms up above her head so they hung slightly off the top, kicking her feet (still wearing her shoes) out across the mattress. She was temped to sleep, but she'd never been much of a napper. She stared up at the top of the bunk, considering carving her name into the wood with her fingernail.

"I take that as a yes. I've seen you in the common room. You creep out the new students. How did you manage to get to Prefect? Oh, and my hair? No reason. Idiosyncrasy. It's reflexive and serves no purpose."

He hadn't really answered much of anything for her. Her persistence would kick in fairly quickly. Her need to understand would drive her to stay until her curiosity was satisfied. This boy was eccentric. Those were the best kind of people. All the best people are crazy. He still looked ill though. 

Her hand moved down from the strand, allowing it to gently drop down onto her shoulder. The pigmentless hair was quickly swept back over her shoulder by her hand, setting it in a more comfortable position for Luna. 

The longer she paid attention to the boy the more she realized this boy didn't look just a little ill. He looked like death incarnate. On top of that, he was locked onto her. His head didn't even move. He reminded her of a wild animal trapped in a corner. Or maybe like those who were a little unstable back in Cardiff. 

What did she mean he creeped out the new students? He was probably the most welcoming prefect in ravenclaw, always there with a friendly word. Or a word, anyway. He wasn’t entirely clear on how to pull off a friendly greeting. Honestly, they should have provided him with one when he became a prefect. Should have given him some kind of reference book. He wasn’t creeping out the new students, was he?

”I’m not creepy”

Even as he voiced his opinion on the matter, the boy’s steady tired gaze was working it’s best to prove his voice wrong in the matter. But the girl went further when she implied that he had gotten prefect by means of some sort of trick. She asked him how he got the position as if it was something shocking or unexpected, something that normally would never happen in a given scenario, but did anyway.

”I was the one chosen to receive the authority. Probably the only student with a decent name.”

He would have gone on to ask the girl her full name, but she probably didn’t have one. He had asked several students. Quite a few, in fact. But it had not turned out well at all. They either made up names on the spot so they wouldn’t get embarrassed or they admitted to not having one, not even knowing what it was in some cases.

”and what is a idiot crazy zinc?”