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Snippet #2793753

located in Camp Kalthorne, a part of Camp Kalthorne, one of the many universes on RPG.

Camp Kalthorne

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rion Dewmont Character Portrait: Bellamy Costa Character Portrait: Britta Ander
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B r i t t a Ander
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elf - outfit - #9c86a3
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Britta had been having a wonderful dream, then she was hit in the head by a stray pillow. Rion had recently taken to throwing pillows into her room rather than walking in, and it had become more than a little annoying. She picked the pillow up and threw it back, but quickly stretched out afterwards. Not bothering to cover up, she got up and walked to her window. She opened it up and listened for a short moment before calling out, ”Do you hear that?” She was, of course, referring to the gentle chorus of wind chimes. They were actually rather beautiful, but sometimes as unbearable as the person who provided the wind.

”That annoying motherfucker would never be late. We’re fine.” She casually walked into the bathroom, combed her hair, brushed her teeth, added a coat of mascara, and considered for a moment what she might want to wear. ”What color should I wear today?” She yelled out, almost to no one in particular. She always picked her outfits carefully, and had been known to take a very long time to do so, on occasion. Still, she knew she didn’t have all the time in the world, so she settled on something simple (though she wasn’t happy about it), and began to dress.

She started down to the common area of the cabin, shirt in hand, just a moment after Rion had called out that they had to go. She pulled the shirt over her head and stared her roommate down for a brief moment, saying, ”Aren’t you ready?” As she opened the door to the cabin, stepping out into the light of the morning. She tucked in her shirt as she walked towards the dining hall, turning her face to the sun as she did so, not bothering to watch where she was going. When she was done adjusting her clothing, she pulled her hair back into a simple braid, then finally spoke up, addressing Rion, who she was sure was following, ”You gotta stop caring what other people think of you. Everyone at this camp is a Grade A motherfucker- I say that with love- and I guarantee you that only one of them cares what you think of him.”

Britta had a soft spot for Rion, whether it came from seeing them naked one too many times, or the close proximity they shared, she felt a closer friendship to them than most of the others at the camp. "And anyway, if they can't handle waiting- what, ten minutes for us? It's our fuckin' loss. Doesn't even effect any of them." She led them straight to the dining hall, hardly paying attention to wear she was walking, even though she wasn't wearing any shoes. When they got there, she opened the door and held it for Rion, gesturing with a wave of her hand for the angel to go in ahead of her. "I'm so sorry, everyone!" She called out, as she walked through the doors, "I made us late, and I know you all care deeply about my personal schedule." She turned to Rion, "See? That was silly to worry about."




B e l l a m y Costa
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witch - outfit - #12694c
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Bellamy, as usual, woke up before the sun. He liked to take his time in the mornings: wake up, solid fifteen minutes of breathing, drink a cup of coffee, leisurely get dressed, groom himself, and sit out of the porch until it was time to head for breakfast. If there was a breeze, he loved to sit and listen to the wind chimes; there was a tree full of them nearby. If there wasn’t much of a breeze, he’d provide his own wind. It was his favorite thing to do in the mornings, and he really didn’t care if it bothered anyone. It was the only thing he did that he didn’t care who might be bothered by it.

He also, occasionally, had to deal with Imani in the mornings, and sometimes he did decide not to leave his cabin until he was ready to go to breakfast (and then, never without Thomas. Sometimes he just couldn’t handle her without someone to help take her attention off of him), but today he decided to risk it. He was in a pretty good mood when he woke up; hardly feeling anxious at all, so he sat, gently- and quietly as he could- coaxing the chimes to life. When he heard the camp-wide alarm go off he knew he still had a few minutes, and he took them, wanting to be as calm as he could be. He didn’t need to be a panicking mess every day, though he tended to not be very calm at all by the end of the day.

After a few moments he stood, the chimes clattered together a final few times, their song coming to a slow and gradual end. He didn’t bother to check on Thomas before he left for breakfast (honestly, he was almost never fully sure if his roommate was in the cabin or not), he preferred to walk by himself, anyway. He wasn’t much for small talk, and the sooner he could get to the dining hall, the better.

He was normally one of the first people there (he’d timed it pretty well to not be the first, and also not be the last), and today was no exception. He’d go through the motions, like always: get his food, sit down, start eating, hope no one found it necessary to sit and talk with him. He was going to run out of things to say to people very soon, or at least things that were completely impersonal and comfortable to talk about, and the idea of that made him nervous.