Coach Morceau "Morry" Oleander (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wrotethepamphlet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
whisperinglogs2013-02-05 06:10 pm
wrotethepamphlet) wrote in whisperinglogs2013-02-05 06:10 pm
Campfire [OPEN] [June 7th, 8 p.m.]
Who: OPEN
When: 8 pm on Friday
Where: The campfire
What: Coach Oleander and the rest of the counselors formally welcome everyone to camp!
Warnings: TBA.
It's roughly about eight o'clock. The sun has finally begun to set on this long June day, and there is a steady fire going in what is commonly used as an auditorium for the camp. When you arrive you will see several of the camp counselors standing up on the small stage, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive and take a seat. After a quick attendance is taken one of the counselors steps forward.
He's an odd looking fellow, several feet shorter than the others and dressed in some combination of a boyscout and a drill sergeant. His face is scarred and it looks like one of his eyes is blind. He gives the appearance of a worn battle hero. He gives the entire camp a stern once over before he coughs, stands straight, and slaps his crop against the projection of the human brain behind him.
If you've been to camp before, you know what's about to happen. It's the same speech that Coach Oleander makes every single year. It seems that no matter what, he makes it every year without fail, with the same amount of gusto as the last.
"The human mind. Six hundred miles of synaptic fiber, five and a half ounces of cranial fluid, fifteen-hundred grams of complex neuromatter. A three pound pile of dreams.
"But I'll tell you what it really is! It is the ultimate battlefield and the ultimate weapon. The wars of this modern age, the psychic age, are fought somewhere between these damp, curvacious, undulations.
"From this day forward, you are all psychic soldiers. Paranormal paratroopers! Mental Marines who are about to ship out on the adventure of their lives!"
Once again, he slaps the crop against the projection, voice raising in volume. "This is our beach head!"
Thereafter, he brings the crop to his own head. "And this? Is our landing craft. You shall engage the enemy in his own mentality. You shall chase his dreams, you shall fight his demons, and you shall live his nightmares.
"And those of you who fight well, you will find yourselves on the path to becoming international secret agents! In other words, Psychonauts!"
Oleander pauses here, to glance to his colleagues, all Psychonauts in their own rights. He snaps his attention back to the rest of camp.
"The rest of you? Will die!"
There's a deep sigh from behind Oleander. Agent Sasha Nein pinches the bridge of his nose. "Mory..."
"Just so you know, we're legally obligated to tell you that no one has ever died at camp!" Razputin Aquato, one of the two teenaged agents on the stage, provides cheerfully with a big grin. He stoops down and retrieves something from a box, holding it up--it's a bag of marshmallows. "Who wants some s'mores?"
"Razputin." Sasha shakes his head and turns to address the camp. "Moving along. We, as the counselors of Whispering Rock, would like to welcome you all back this summer. You will note that a few of our counselors are missing right now, due to important Psychonaut work, and will return when they are free of obligation.
"I would like to reiterate that camp activities will begin on the ninth, and until then you all may use this opportunity to get acquainted with the grounds. We have a little time before lights out, so you may use this chance to speak with a number of the counselors or filling in junior counselors questions."
[OOC: This is a small mingle log! Its purpose is for it to be used as an open forum to counselors about any questions or concerns. For all the missing badges, we'd like to ask that you guys keep it sort of vague until we get people to fill those spots. Until then, any of the Jr Counselors for the badge may pop in and help out. That's entirely up to you guys.
Counselors/Jr Counselors are free to make their own threads and Campers are welcome to just ask questions in separate threads, where anyone could try to answer.]
When: 8 pm on Friday
Where: The campfire
What: Coach Oleander and the rest of the counselors formally welcome everyone to camp!
Warnings: TBA.
It's roughly about eight o'clock. The sun has finally begun to set on this long June day, and there is a steady fire going in what is commonly used as an auditorium for the camp. When you arrive you will see several of the camp counselors standing up on the small stage, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive and take a seat. After a quick attendance is taken one of the counselors steps forward.
He's an odd looking fellow, several feet shorter than the others and dressed in some combination of a boyscout and a drill sergeant. His face is scarred and it looks like one of his eyes is blind. He gives the appearance of a worn battle hero. He gives the entire camp a stern once over before he coughs, stands straight, and slaps his crop against the projection of the human brain behind him.
If you've been to camp before, you know what's about to happen. It's the same speech that Coach Oleander makes every single year. It seems that no matter what, he makes it every year without fail, with the same amount of gusto as the last.
"The human mind. Six hundred miles of synaptic fiber, five and a half ounces of cranial fluid, fifteen-hundred grams of complex neuromatter. A three pound pile of dreams.
"But I'll tell you what it really is! It is the ultimate battlefield and the ultimate weapon. The wars of this modern age, the psychic age, are fought somewhere between these damp, curvacious, undulations.
"From this day forward, you are all psychic soldiers. Paranormal paratroopers! Mental Marines who are about to ship out on the adventure of their lives!"
Once again, he slaps the crop against the projection, voice raising in volume. "This is our beach head!"
Thereafter, he brings the crop to his own head. "And this? Is our landing craft. You shall engage the enemy in his own mentality. You shall chase his dreams, you shall fight his demons, and you shall live his nightmares.
"And those of you who fight well, you will find yourselves on the path to becoming international secret agents! In other words, Psychonauts!"
Oleander pauses here, to glance to his colleagues, all Psychonauts in their own rights. He snaps his attention back to the rest of camp.
"The rest of you? Will die!"
There's a deep sigh from behind Oleander. Agent Sasha Nein pinches the bridge of his nose. "Mory..."
"Just so you know, we're legally obligated to tell you that no one has ever died at camp!" Razputin Aquato, one of the two teenaged agents on the stage, provides cheerfully with a big grin. He stoops down and retrieves something from a box, holding it up--it's a bag of marshmallows. "Who wants some s'mores?"
"Razputin." Sasha shakes his head and turns to address the camp. "Moving along. We, as the counselors of Whispering Rock, would like to welcome you all back this summer. You will note that a few of our counselors are missing right now, due to important Psychonaut work, and will return when they are free of obligation.
"I would like to reiterate that camp activities will begin on the ninth, and until then you all may use this opportunity to get acquainted with the grounds. We have a little time before lights out, so you may use this chance to speak with a number of the counselors or filling in junior counselors questions."
[OOC: This is a small mingle log! Its purpose is for it to be used as an open forum to counselors about any questions or concerns. For all the missing badges, we'd like to ask that you guys keep it sort of vague until we get people to fill those spots. Until then, any of the Jr Counselors for the badge may pop in and help out. That's entirely up to you guys.
Counselors/Jr Counselors are free to make their own threads and Campers are welcome to just ask questions in separate threads, where anyone could try to answer.]
no subject
Good luck with this.
no subject
Chew chew chew chew chew.
In retaliation, he reaches over and pinches Arya's side.]
no subject
Hey, watch that!
[She rubs her side, then straightens up.]
If my mother ever saw either of us doing that, we'd be cleaning out the kennels for a week.
no subject
I wonder what's worse, K9 kennels or wolf kennels. [...For that matter, how do they clean up after Nymeria and Summer...hmm.]
no subject
[Arya actually thinks that might be pretty useful, all strangeness aside. It certainly would help in catching criminals, particularly if Stiles could contact the dead and find out who the murderers were.]
Wolf kennels are nasty, though they aren't nearly as horrible as horse stables.