“Yesterday I was awash in a pool of tears…”
100 years of being trapped in an underwater dungeon with only your corpse and an evil demon keeping you company gives you time to reflect and regret so many things.
My, how very forward of you, Sect Leader Jiang.
—–
Yes, they absolutely tripped and fell into the Lotus Ponds. Because reasons.
hey don’t cry. spiro the bald eagle failing at catching a crab, okay?
Late tonight a bunch of staff are playing a game called role call and if you thought fugitive was wild just w a i t until i tell you how this goes cause role call is absolutely terrifying
We aren’t letting the campers play it so that lets us up the scare factor by 147%
Choose your lockscreen: persona edition 👁️
a friend shared an otp prompt and i couldnt rest since then
Yes, Jiang Cheng woke up like this.
this horrible screaming thing, this being alive for right-now, flooded over your lines, poured out all over the floor and through the cannisters. they love you when you are smaller than this, and controlled, and perfect, unspeaking and gentle in their pools and with your clothes off and with their hands around your throat. they love you when you dance pretty and suck their fingers and say yes and sit up straight and get the grade.
but you became needy again, didn't you, little bug. swatting at the ripcords around you. swinging your arms and watching the city fall. the path behind you is all smoke and ash and overturned cars. you were supposed to be good, good! good, after all. after the heat and the noise of it. you were supposed to be less, to want nothing, to hold all of your desires in a shoe box, to burn them in the summer of your 16th year, to bury yourself in chintz at the foot of their rosebush and come out without the smell of blood.
but you burned-sugar aberration. howling all that sorrow out from your bellybutton up into the green sky, yearning. they don't need you to feel better, they need you to shut up. they don't need you to heal, they need you to stop hurting so loudly. they don't need you to feel good, they need you to kneel down and accept the suffering. you don't get to do this. other people in your life get to lash out and be cruel, but you? you were good, and now when you are sobbing yourself raw on the floor of your bedroom, the first thing they tell you is this isn't like you. as if there is anything like you. you don't even know what you are, because you have wounded your desires and killed off your future so you are just a hungry animal, loping alone in the dark.
come on now, monster. turn your head around. you know better than to leak like this, when they need you. they need you. they need you, so shut up and take it.
ok this is a little embarrassing to post cuz its for such a niche au but ANYWAY check out caitlyn’s au where the lost trio joins gaea it’s SO COOL
Fugitive. A campground-wide game that instills terror and hopelessness into the very souls of campers, but wild, giddy anticipation into the rest of the staff.
The game begins with all the male counselors herding the boys into the indoor amphitheatre. There’s lots of yelling, shoving, and flashlights waving. Because, of course, the whole place is pitch black inside.
Inside are the support staff, sitting with scowls on their faces and arms crossed. We’re the cops and the checkpointers. We aren’t supposed to look happy.
The campers have no idea what’s about to take place, so a majority of them are already on edge. Some are playing it off, being goofy, but we know that they’re nervous. We know.
So once the 300+ boys are in the room, the lights flick on and the ones in charge begin explaining. The jailkeeper comes out, points out who are the ones to watch out for. Suddenly the warden (the one instigating the entire game) jumps out and demands that all staff (counselors included) go outside. The boys are delighted, of course, because this means zero supervision.
How short that delight lasts, though.
Once the staff are out, we go to our designated areas. Most go to the largest field on grounds as the “taggers”, while some wait at one of the three checkpoints the kids have to reach in order to proceed.
The kids, now free, see the hayrack in the parking lot. They were told to board it, should they see it. As soon as it’s full, the tractor pulls out and takes them out to the ranch (a solid 15-20 minute walk away) where they are told to try and run to the first checkpoint, our zipline, without getting tagged.
Here’s where the fun and the dread begin. The campers have to run, from our ranch to the first field, the zipline. If they get tagged, they must go back to the ranch and start again, with the addition of a glow bracelet. The first checkpoint is the easiest to get to, because it lures them into a false sense of security.
The second and third, however, are a completely different story.
Most of the counselors and other staff are located in the second main field where the last two checkpoints are, on either side. The rock tower and the science center. If you could make it past 30 adults (all of which are alarmingly athletic) and were instructed to physically take you down by all means necessary, you definitely deserved the hostess cake prize at the end of the fourth checkpoint.
So by now the kids are drenched in sweat, hope dying as they stumble across the field, getting tagged left and right by overeager counselors. Many arrived to my station crying from exhaustion (it was even worse when I had to turn them away if they didn’t make the first two checkpoints).
I happened to get a glance during the heat of it. The main field was a bloodbath. Kids everywhere were getting drenched in mud, tears, sweat, and blood as they struggled to get past their counselors. I could see the light dying in their eyes with each tackle, every leg sweep, and every dive. Still, they were promised a prize, so they pressed on.
It was hard to watch at times. One twisted his ankle. Many left with scraped knees and elbows, some with poison ivy from hiding in unconventional places. The counselors got the thick of it too, from the ones who decided to fight back. One got a gash down her forehead from sliding and face-planting in a gravel road. All in all, an absolute massacre.
At the end when the final whistle was called, everyone hiked over to our main pavilion to collect their winnings of hostess cakes and share war stories. Rough times all around, but in the end the sweating and exhausted hollering over chocolate twinkies and ho ho’s while desperately trying to rehydrate was worth it in the end.