Campfire [OPEN] [June 7th, 8 p.m.]

[wrotethepamphlet]

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.]

Comments

Francis York Morgan | Precognition

[callmeyork]

[Off to one side sits York, who seems content to wait for a bit with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, blowing smoke directly upwards into the night air.]

Hello, everybody. I'm FBI Spe- er. Former FBI Special Agent Francis York Morgan. Please, call me York. That's what everyone calls me. I'll be serving as your Precognition Counselor for this year, and hopefully subsequent years. Also, while this may be my first year as a counselor, this is not my first year at Whispering Rock, so don't assume I don't know everything.

My lab is located close to the edge of the forest... I find a remote location like that is very conducive to good focus, and thus, clear images when practicing Precognition. If you need to see me personally, you can find me in my cabin.

[Inhale... exhale.] That's about it. Any questions?

[sawthemud]

I have one. What exactly is an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigations doing here? This is a bit outside your usual area, isn't it?

[callmeyork]

[Here, Dio, have a wry smirk.] Former agent. I finished my last case in Washington, and essentially left. I'm not part of the bureau anymore.

[sawthemud]

Ah, my mistake. Nonetheless, it is a rather...interesting career path to follow, wouldn't you agree?

[callmeyork]

Oh, absolutely. My father also worked for the Bureau, so the Morgan name already had somewhat of a reputation. It just so happened that my psychic abilities helped me out in the field.

[sawthemud]

I see. I imagine precognitive abilities would be useful in an investigative line of work. Are those the sort of skills you will be teaching us this summer?

[callmeyork]

Exactly right, as well as some elements of divination and retrocognition.

[sawthemud]

Will you be teaching ways to counteract others' precognitive abilities? It seems like something of a double-edged sword, otherwise.

[callmeyork]

That's an excellent point. Yes, I will be touching on how to hide your actions from rival psychics, though that may also require some knowledge of the Psi-Shield.

[norisknoglory]

Do you know what's for lunch next month?

[Precognition jokes were always pertinent.]

[callmeyork]

If I remember Cruller at all, it'll be the same thing every time: sandwiches, soup, salad, bacon, hot dogs, and no burgers. [Nice try, Randall.]

[norisknoglory]

[Damn.]

Aw, that's just pattern recognition!

[callmeyork]

And who says that isn't part of Precognition? Even if you get signs, you need to know what they mean. Pattern recognition is integral to the skill.

[norisknoglory]

So... it's like a puzzle?

[Oho~]

I don't know, that sounds more like pictorial cipher than recognizing pattern repetition...

how to get any prof. layton char on your side: frame it as a puzzle.

[callmeyork]

You could certainly think of it that way. And if you consistently get some of the same symbols through different viewings, is that not a pattern?

it's so true it's kind of sad

[norisknoglory]

Oh... I see now!

[You could almost hear the 'Eureka!' moment in his head.] It's like a mixed up jigsaw puzzle that has the same pieces but a different picture each time-- but some pieces still fit the same spots. Or a list of numbers that are separated by a precise integer!

[Yeah, sure. Let's go with that.]

[callmeyork]

If it's an easy image you're getting, sure.

Sometimes, though, it's like getting a puzzle with a repeating background, no edges, and 7 random pieces that don't actually fit in anywhere. And you need to be able to catch that.

[brokethecycle]

[Norman didn't think about it at first, but given the entire idea that precognition was taught at this camp made Norman realize that he might have had a few brushes with it.]

[He's obviously pretty hesitant and nervous approaching York, but he doesn't back down or chicken out.]

Hi, um, Agent York. I actually have one if you don't mind.

[callmeyork]

[York lets out some smoke just above Norman's head.]

Please, just call me York. And what is it?

[brokethecycle]

[He makes kind of a face at that. Was that really healthy? No, not really.]

Sometimes I have really weird dreams. I think some of them might be prophetic but some of them it feels like they've already happened. Is that normal?

[callmeyork]

[He nods, butting out the cigarette onto the stump by his chair.]

That's perfectly normal. Precognition and retrocognition are very prevalent in dreamscapes, as that's a time that waking consciousness is unable to obscure psychic energies. It's almost like deja vu, am I right?

[brokethecycle]

Yeah, its a lot like that.

[It sure is nice to have all this crazy stuff about his life answered after all this time. Norman is thoughtful for a minute mulling it over.]

So, retrocognition is stuff that's already happened? So, you're just seeing the past?

[callmeyork]

Exactly. And sometimes, that's just as useful as seeing the future.

Do you have any specific examples you'd be willing to share?

[brokethecycle]

[Norman nods. That makes sense to him.]

Um-! Well, once I had this dream where I was in the woods and ...it was really dark, but I remember being really scared. Like I was running from something? And then these men showed up and they started shouting "Witch! Catch the witch!". It's kind of blurry after that, I just remember running as fast as I could and then I woke up.

[callmeyork]

Hmm... considering that nobody really goes on witch hunts anymore, it's pretty clear that you're seeing something that happened in the past, maybe to one of your ancestors. Or possibly something that happened in your home town many years ago.