There was always a stem of truth to stories told, and created, Amos would like to believe as much. Like the ones told about the stars, those men residing in them long destined to be forgotten in time. Even with their names forged into the matter of the universe, burned into the skies for thousands of years. It was true that perhaps these tales of dead girls and cults didnât apply to this case scenario, here at the retreat. But stories were never about the facts.
So much more always lurked beneath, these were things Amos understood to his core. And something he could see mirrored each time Isobel opened her mouth, and poured words like constellations into the sky.
"Do you think thatâs why they brought us here? Those sisters apart of the cult?â Distrust was at its core, for authority perhaps, those who demanded their attention each day. Or perhaps more general, for the God they worshiped. Hushed Hail Maryâs, dry tongues mutter.Â
âTo take us next, as they did those girls never found? Young blood.â
being scolded by her mom was a common occurrence in isobel's childhood. her mom latched onto various quirks and picked away at them like children did with scabs that they refused to let heal. if the wind changes your face will stay like that was a phrase that was hissed at isobel throughout her childhood. it was planted at the back of her mind. these memories caused her to scrunch up her features more often in a small act of rebellion. she was the only person that knew the motive behind her actions but that didn't stop every exaggerated contorted expression from feeling like a small victory.
the way her lips scrunched up then curled to the side in reaction to amos's suggestion would have caused her mom to cast her an icy glare while tutting.it was absurd but she didn't think it was impossible. sometimes fact was stranger than fiction. it was like how she discovered the unnerving coincidences between the assassinations of jfk. and lincoln during the period of time where the only thing she listened to was the assassins soundtrack. there was one obvious flaw in amos's theory and isobel's lips curled into a smirk when she realized it. "but i thought you said they wanted a pure girl to sacrifice ? it would be a struggle to find one among this lot.", she teased.
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i have no bad habits. i'm practically perfect in every way like mary poppins. if i had to list some hypothetical bad habits that i definitely don't have i'd go with talking to myself. I suppose i also have a habit of over-exaggerating everything and stretching the truth.
âŤ: Most played song this week?
i wish i could get kissing on your dad by myylo out of my head. it's cheesy and ridiculous and rhymes xbox with sexpot but it's so catchy!
âĄ: If you could spend a day in the life of any other student, who would you pick and why?
i'm going to sound cheesy as fuck but i wouldn't want to be anybody else for the day. it could be an interesting acting opportunity but the only person i'm able to fully authentically capture is me. i suppose if i had to name a person to be i'd go with wendy. we have a lot in common and i'd get to have free range of her wardrobe for the day.
â¨: Your cabin is on fire and you can only save three things from your bunk. What are they?
this question is evil! i can't chose between my trash. everything i own is an extension of me as a person. it's like you're asking me to chose between my limbs or children. fine, i'll humor you but just this once. out of my snowglobes eponine is my favorite. she's adorable and brings back memories of a vacation to paris. it was incredible. of course i'd save oboie malone. she's beautiful, my extremely expensive baby. out of everything i own she's the thing that is the most apart of who i am as a person. i don't have any deep connection to my backpack but i'd have that as well. i could easily buy another one but i need it to carry my stuff around and wouldn't want to wait for another holographic backpack to be delivered.
Gossip would pass students lips, it was inevitable from the moment a group of teenagers stepped into the decaying cabins nestled abandoned in the middle of an overgrown forest. One where the trees sheltered from the sun, all but speckles of light that made their way through cracks in the canopy. And now the sun set overhead, those spaces in the leaves made way to look up to the darkened sky, flickering orbs of orange glowing overhead. Tracing the sky as if it were a map, watching down where stories were made and relayed back up to them.
Stories of monsters and men, and truth twisted enough to glorify.Â
âThe kind that youâd never be allowed to leave.â He relished in the way Isobel leant in closer, her eyes lit up like the stars above. Firelight flickering in them, Amos canât resist leaning into her eagerness. Sharp teeth, his voice lowering to a whisper in a nature all too serious. Believable. Perhaps even coming from his own mouth he hoped.
âApparently they all went mad here, they used to be a part of the parish until God abandoned them. Theyâd murder a local school girl, offer her up as their sacrifice. That was before they turned on each other. I wouldnât look too close at that mildew if I were you, some of itâs just dried blood missed in the clean.â
isobel loved to gossip, she saw it as another art form and performance opportunity.gossiping was a form of storytelling where you were encouraged to embellish the truth.Â
âcults you can never leave never work in practice.",she remarked too sagely for a person that knew nothing about cults.her lack of knowledge wasn't going to deter her.'fake it until you make it' was a well known idiom for a reason.the amount of knowledge you had didn't matter as long you sounded convincing while making your point."no matter the consequences people still attempt to leave.sometimes they succeed and make new lives for themselves."she briefly stared into the flames of the campfire, piecing together her next move and revelling in the theatrical embellishment."i heard a rumor that some of the sisters were apart of the cult." being the source of a rumor still counted as hearing a rumor, right?Â
she shouldn't have laughed.amos wasn't telling his elaborate horrifying tale to make her laugh.plus,laughing at gruesome about murder was in bad taste; it was the kind of behavior that earned her scornful glares from sister michael amongst other reasons. she wasn't concerned with what was socially acceptable or considered bad taste so the ethics of chuckling at a story about murder didnât cross her mind.itâs not like she could control what made her chuckle.she was entertained by the specific details that added to the atmosphere and made no sense.âi think weâre all been abandoned by god.that would explain why weâve ended up here.â,she joked.unsure if there was a god to abandon them and apathetic about any possible answer.âi appreciate the advice but iâve got better things to do than examine mildew.i thought you did too.â
DATE: june 30th
TIME: 07:24 pm
LOCATION: lorehill, outside the cabins
LETTER TO: open
@ba-centralâ
Humidity from the dayâs warmth still clung to the air, even with the slowly setting sun behind the tree line. Fragrant blues drifted into the sky, the darkness to fall already swallowing daylight quicker than Amos expected. Soon there would be stars, and crickets chirping, and those twig snaps where you canât see. The kind that kept students on edge, sweat sheens on their forehead and a wired look as their eyes dart to the shadows left lurking.
His hands grazed from the sticks and logs heâd carried and piled onto the fire, that heâd only just gotten started. âI heard Sister talking about the cult that used to use these cabins, spiritual retreat is the nice way of saying it.âÂ
Throwing one last stick to the pile now alight, he now focuses his attention to the other with him. âDid you hear what got them closed the first time around? Itâs a wonder they let anyone back here.â
the novelty of the cabins had long worn off.there was nothing romantic about battling with an ageing jammed door knob every time you wanted to leave your room or staring at the mildew on the ceiling when you tried to sleep.sitting around the campfire was the one aspect of life at the retreat that lived up to her unrealistic summer camp fantasies.there was a sentimentality to staring into the fire while the chatter of her classmates blended together to become white noise. there was something weirdly calming about the background noise of juniors teaching each other tiktok dances.it didn't matter what she thought of the individual people around her ,being in a crowded space was enough to keep isobel grounded.
 she leaned forward in excitement."there was a cult?was it like a hippie cult or a scarlet robe wearing ; praising mother suspiriorum kind of cult?",she inquired with a grin.she knew that amos had a dubious relationship with the truth and that wasn't important to her.telling a gripping story was more important than telling a factual story.that's why people spent twelve dollars to each biographical movies that twisted the truth but didn't go out of their way to watch documentaries.
âi heard it was asbestos but thatâs probably just a cover-up.âthe conspiracy theory about avril lavigne being replaced with a lookalike was the only one she could name of the top of her head but she liked the idea of conspiracy theories ,with all their intrigue and mystery.being involved in one would have been her ticket to fame.âwhatâs the real reason this placed got shut down?was there youtuber style drama within the cult?â
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âIâm not laughing!â Astrid said defensively, despite the gleeful lilt in her voice and the smirk that she was working hard to suppress. She bumped her shoulder against Isobelâs in solidarity, giving her a smile that to some might seem to small to those who knew Astrid it was practically a grin. âWell this is very true, the school should name a wing after you, I can see it now. The Isobel Butler Auditorium!â She said in a dramatic nature that she had learned from Isobel herself before breaking into a fit of giggles. âWell I could take some of you snowglobes if you want, I could like, foster them or something, and you could visit as much as you wanted!â
"you liar! this is a giant betrayal and i won't stand for this!"isobel accentuated her point by prodding astrid lightly with perfectly manicured fingers.years of watching soap operas with her mom had prepared her for this melodramatic moment, it was one of the rare occasions they spent time together.her strained familiar relationships were forgotten while laughing with astrid.she knew the quieter girl was joking but that didn't stop her entire face from lighting up at the concept of something being named after her."oh my god, you're a genius. when i become a famous tony award winning actor i'll donate money to broadripple. they'll be able to afford better temporary accommodation.",she giggled.isobel was eager to tap step out of her comfort zone but she anticipated the cabins to be more camp rock and less camp rott."would you really? that sounds fantastic.thank you, I owe you my life."she was more cautious with her precious glass babies than anything else in her life but she trusted astrid to be careful.the idea of isobel sparkle being spread to the junior cabin through some of her snowglobes brought joy to her large glitter covered heart."so who do you share a cabin with? I trust them more than my roommates."
Get inspiration? What sort of response was that? Did Aurora Alcott really come off as the killer type? She didnât even think that she would be capable of something like that. You clearly had to have a sense of confidence and not to mention a legitimate motivate to want to do such an act. The girl probably had the brains to get away with it, but lacked the desire. Sure, she couldnât say that she adored all of her classmates but she couldnât say she wished death on them.Â
âNot really planning to become the next Freddie or Jason so that pretty little face of yours will be perfectly fine,â she dryly replied out. She didnât know Isobel terribly well but she couldnât help but get the sense that she was a bit on the self absorbed side. But, maybe she was wrong.
 isobelâs whole face twisted at the mention of freddy and jason ,desperately trying to figure out where she heard those names before.she only watched horror movies when she heard that the main actress had been snubbed at the oscarâs.slashers definitely didnât appeal to her.she liked her movies with characters she could invest in instead of replaceable victims.pride stopped her from asking aurora who the fuck freddy and jason were so instead she plastered on a smile and changed the subject.âaww you think iâm pretty?â she asked ,sarcastically.she knew what the other girl meant but she couldnât resist a cheeky comment.Â
isobel walked closer to aurora.carrying out a conversation with her was going to be like drawing blood from a stone but she loved a challenge.she managed to form a friendship with astrid so anything was possible.âso what brings you to the creek? isnât it kind of lonely?â she asked with genuine curiosity.she didnât understand why people liked to be alone ,it was her worst nightmare.
âLiving in a shithole is my thing? I donât think so,â Kat remarked, trying not to take offence to the idea that Isobel thought that this place was aligned with literally any characteristic that Kat might have prided herself on. âI like the outdoors and skiing and hiking and stuff,â she noted, perhaps that was what Iso meant, âBut this isâŚnot good,â she offered, for a lack of a more eloquent way to describe the situation they were faced with and the setting where it happened to be taking place. She laughed at the other girlâs method of resisting dust while living out of an ancient structure, âPretty sure youâll have to go through some other demons first, actually,â she reasoned, though she didnât really believe in that stuff.
âWow,â Kat uttered, unsure of quite what to say about the fact that Isobel had more than seven snowglobes, to begin with. Kat had been on plenty of kitschy family vacations to ski resorts and other places that sufficiently resembled a tundra but she only had a couple of snowglobes and they were all at home, possibly in a storage box somewhere. âWhy do you think she hates everybody then? Just because?â she asked curiously. She hadnât really meant what sheâd said about Gwen, she was jealous and petty about the senior girl but she did sometimes wonder what made her the way she was and why on Godâs sweet earth Damian felt compelled to be friends with her despite it.Â
ânot good.âisobel echoed in a questionable imitation of kat's high pitched midwestern tones."technically youâre right."it wasn't the lyrical prose fitting of a middle school poetry contest winner but it was an accurate way to describe the cabins.they left a lot to be desired,mostly indoor plumbing and air-condictioning.isobel used the knowledge that her favorite musicals were written before people had the internet as a way to cope with not having wi-fi but there wasnât a way to process having to use an outhouse.even gilbert and sullivan had flushing toilets that were comfortable to sit on.at least isobel assumed they did ,she wasnât an expert on 19th century toilets.âyeah ,thatâs what i meant! youâre good with all this outdoorsy stuff.youâre like bear grylls but way less gross.â,isobel complimented ,gently elbowing kat.she had spent her family vacation to niagara falls at clifton hill and looking for knickknacks so her standards for outdoorsy abilities were low and she wasnât to be trusted.she giggled at the mention of other demons before making a show out of crackling her knuckles.âthose demons can bring it on! they donât know what theyâre letting themselves in for.âshe didnât know the practicalities of fighting demons or if there were any to fight but she was always prepared to fight someone despite her petite frame and lack of fighting experience.Â
âdo you mean wow thatâs so awe inspiring iâm lost for words or wow this girl needs to get out more?â,she questioned with a chuckle.she was prepared for kat to answer with the second option and that didnât bother her.at least it was a reaction and a wow out of kat was basically war and peace.âhow am i supposed to know why gwen is the way she is? sheâs a riddle wrapped in a blue ribbon.âan intriguing and misunderstood riddle wrapped in a blue ribbon but that was on a need to know basis (meaning that kat didnât need to know that isobel didnât think gwen was all bad).
Aurora enjoyed the outdoors, most of the time. Her family had always made it their mission to get her and her brother involved with nature in anyway they could. I meanâŚ.not only did they live on a farm, but summers were usually spent camping truly âroughingâ it. So ultimately? she was very, very familiar with it. Unlike some of her other fellow peers, she didnât mind the trees, animals, and even getting a little dirty.Â
The brunette found herself craving alone time, which wasnât unusual for her. God, being around a lot of people for too long just killed her already low social battery. What was an easy way to try and fix it? Finding her new favorite hiding spot with her most beloved past time; reading. She was currently in the middle of a True Crime book that she was completely engrossed in. The case being investigated and spoken about in the text was extremely fascinating to her. Blue orbs were approaching an exciting paragraph when she heard a crunch a few feet from her. Great, who was gonna bother her now?
âLooks like you caught me red handed,â she spoke out in a sarcastic tone.Â
( @ba-centralâ )
flimsy canvas tennis shoes replaced with sturdy dr martens isobel was ready to explore.she was out of her element and the only way to change that was to get more familiar with her surroundings. she wasn't going to have an enjoyable time at the retreat by shutting herself in her room.there was hopefully lots of things to find in the area surround the cabins.the only things in isobel's room were jay's emergency cheeto supply and the only person in her grade more over the top than her.Â
she hadnât expected to find somebody hiding on her adventure around the camp but it was a pleasant surprise.she relished any and all opportunities to start a conversation with somebody.
instead of asking aurora what she was reading ,isobel crouched down to look at the cover.she had experience with trying to talk to anti-social people and knew the dangers of asking somebody what they were reading.it gave people leeway to kill the conversation by snarkily saying a book."are you trying to get some inspiration? If you kill me you better leave my face intact.It's a part of my brand.",she explained.it didn't bother her that some people might have thought she was conceited for caring about her appearance.some people denied it but aesthetics were an important part of being a performer.having a doe-eyed expression was another tool for isobel to use along with being a triple threat ,a trait she never let people forget,.
There wasnât many people that Astrid had missed while she had been home, in fact she had been enjoyed being back home and had been sorry to leave. She watched as her classmates reunited, throwing their arms around each other after being apart for weeks, all while Astrid stood back and watched.There were only a small amount of people that Astrid had missed and was eager to see again, Iso had been one of them. âIâm sure your snow globes and bracelets will find a good home.â She said, trying to suppress a giggle as she patted Iso on the back sympathetically.  âYou could take them out for extra special occasions, wouldnât that be exciting?âÂ
âStop laughing at my suffering!Iâm trying to have a moment of mourning!This is a catastrophe!â,she declared.the bottom lip isobel used to make things go her own way was well and truly out and she did an excellent job at keeping a straight face.she knew her reaction was absurd and she didnât mind what made astrid laugh as long as she was laughing.getting astrid to come out of her shell felt like an achievement.she took naturally to being the reclusive ghost girl of broadripple but isobelâs instincts told her that astrid had hidden depth once you scratched the surface.she thought that her instincts were never wrong.âi suppose so but every occasion is a special occasion when iâm here.â,she joked with a quick flip of her hair.she wasnât egotistical enough to believe that her mere presence was a blessing but she wanted to be like the itâs a small world ride at dissneyworld ,known by everyone but hated by many for being irritating,
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Kat dumped her parka on the wooden steps of the senior cabin before she sat down next to Isobel, careful not to stain her jeans with whatever ancient muck was on them in addition to the muddy footsteps of seniors treading in and out of their new accommodation. âIâm pretty sure everything is going to get dusty here, even if you put it away,â she reasoned, her own bunk was full of dust that sheâd abandoned instead of bothering to clean. It was too much of an effort and she was still riding on the ignorant hope that they were going to be going back to their regular dorms soon enough.
âHow many snowglobes did you bring, exactly?â she asked curiously. She would advise that any number greater than zero was too many snowglobes to bring to an abandoned camping ground but she had more respect for Isobel than that, so she kept the thought to herself. âI hope youâre not in a room with Gwen or Faith- Gwen will probably smash them because the weight of her boobs on her tiny body causes her constant pain and rage and I bet Faith thinks snowglobes are evil for some reason,â she shrugged her shoulders, âI think snowglobes are nice,â just not nice enough to travel with for any reason.
isobel was confused by the tentative way kat placed herself on the steps.it was reassuring to know that other people were also struggling with the realities of staying in the cabins but she expected kat to be more at one with the elements after all the times kat had boasted about her skills."i thought this was your thing?",she asked cheekily ,resting her hand under her chin.she had hoped that kat would be able to teach her to do outdoorsy activities.didn't she own a cabin in one of the countries next to sweden ,that were way less cooler than sweden because they didn't have abba or ikea? "please don't say things like that.",she whined.she wouldn't describe herself as high maintenance but she loathed dust.she hate the way it indiscriminately clung onto everything in could find ,replacing the pristine shine with a drab earthiness.the earthy stench of dust was also nauseating. "if i have to steal faith's rosary beads to ward off evil dust demons i will.don't test me."isobel wasn't particularly religious but she'd resort to anything if it meant keeping her things clean.Â
âi only managed to save seven.âit haunted her that she had to leave behind eight precious snowglobes in her dorm to battle the cicadas alone.she knew it was unlikely that they would all remain intact but she hated the thought of eventually going back to find one of them reduced to broken glass remains.isobel was tempted to have a period of mourning for her snowglobes and dorm in general but she didnât own enough black clothes.âi donât think gwen hates everyone because of her boobs.âisobel had more patience towards gwen than she should of. but she thought she was misunderstood and had reasonable motives for being an ice queen ,isobel didnât know what those motivations were but she wanted to.âiâm fucked if faith thinks snowglobes are the work of the devil.âshe declared.there was some things she expected like being told she was going to hell for wearing brightly colored eyeshadow but she hadnât anticipated something like her snowglobes being seen as unholy.
âI personally donât think thereâs anything wrong with not wanting your prized belongings to collect dust.â Which is what Damian assumed Isobelâs snow globes and bracelet were. Otherwise why would she want to be so precious about them? Damianâs mother felt the same way about his dorm room swim trophies which is why they now lined a shelf in his bedroom at home and didnât come along with him for the move into the cabins. Not that it felt necessary in any sense to bring any trophies along with him, not even the first trophy he won as Broadrippleâs Swim Captain.
âIf you want them on display though, Iâm sure thereâs a way we could fashion some sort of⌠protective case around them,â Damian suggested. It was in his nature to be a bit idealistic, perhaps even more so as a House Captain. Besides, a project would certainly make his presence at the Retreat grounds more tolerable. He could use a distraction or twenty to forget how the bathrooms of the Retreat looked like. Anything to empty his mind of the fact that heâd have to be cleansing himself there. Felt detrimental to be honest, to wash yourself in what he would deem an unsanitary place.
abandoned cabins in the woods were a prime location for sinister occurrences ,especially with the lack of a good wi-fi signal, but so far agreeing with damian was the most sinister thing to have happened to isobel.she couldn't quite put her finger on it but there was something off about him.what kind of eighteen year old owned decorative handkerchiefs and used words like soiree?she couldn't voice her thoughts without sounding irrational and like an overprotective friend but he gave off a weird energy she couldn't mesh with."thanks for the reassurance.",she replied weakly.
the ghost of a smile turned into a genuine grin at the offer to build her a display case."you'd do that for me?oh my god ,thank you!you're the best."she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth just because the gift horse was a teenage boy that behaved like a youth pastor ,that tried and failed to be hip with the kids,."but wait ,how are you going to get me a display case?"isobel might have brought a suitcase full of fragile knick-knacks instead of anything useful but even she could see the logistical problems in his offer.he didn't seem like he could build anything.but it wouldn't surprise isobel if he had a giant pocket protector or was rich and influential enough to bribe the faculty into giving him another room.
it wasnât what she expected from her last year at broadripple but isobel was willing to take the sudden change of location in her stride.she had the same outlook on life as those cheesy signs that middle-aged white women used to decorated their kitchen.she embraced change and there was no such thing as a bad experience as long as it gave you something to talk about and shaped you as a person.the only downside was the lack of space in the cabin rooms.isobel called herself a collector but other people said she had an emerging hoarding problem.she loved to express her personality through items and couldnât bare to part with anything.every glittery hair clip and fluffy multi-colored cushion became a part of her she treasured fondly.after a quick walk around the room she would be staying in ,isobel came back out of the senior cabins and plopped herself down on the steps outside of them with gusto ,not anticipating the sudden creek.âwhat if i have to keep some of my snow globes and bracelets in my suitcase?i donât want them to get dusty.â she pondered ,starring off into the distance like she was the protagonist of a musical on the cusp of breaking into the obligatory contemplative tony wining ballad.
ISOBEL BUTLERÂ is a 17 year old SENIOR student at Broadripple Academy.SHE is originally from LOWELL , MASSACHUSETTS but moved to Broadripple FOUR YEARS ago. SHE is PASSIONATE and SELF-ASSURED but can also be MELODRAMATIC and STUBBORN.
name:isobel amelia butler
BASICS
 age:seventeenÂ
grade:senior
house:melleray
cabin room:room 2 of the senior cabin
how long have they been at broadripple:four years
where are they from originally:Â lowell ,massachusetts
extra curricular:bddy club ,the track team ,chamber choir ,women of broadripple ,swat and orchestra (oboe)
 neutral traits:spontaneous ,musical ,detail orientated ,energetic & talkative Â
negative traits: melodramatic ,stubborn ,irritating ,petty & bad at taking negative criticism
FACTS
every school has an irritating theatre kid that thinks theyâre destined for broadway unfortunately for her classmates isobel is broadrippleâs
her parents signed her up for dance classes at the age of three as a way to turn her into a graceful young lady and sheâs been dancing ever since
but her real passion lies in acting ,she loves having the ability to move people and bring stories to life
her need for attention stems from feeling like her parents only paid her attention when it benefited them and when they were able to use her to prop up their wholesome family run window selling business image
she doesnât care what people think of her as long as sheâs not fading into the background sheâs happy
seeing as she lives less than an hourâs drive away from broadripple she visits home every other weekend but thatâs only so her parents can make sure that sheâs not failing classes.she feels more where her friends are ,at broadripple, even though itâs an ominous impersonal boarding school with a tragic past
HEADCANONS
out of all the woodwind instruments 10 year old isobel most gravitated to the oboe because she thought that playing a lesser known instrument would be a good conversion starter (not that she needs conversation starters sheâs the type of person that could start a genuinely engaging conversation about the weather)
she thinks somebody's favorite disney princess is a good indecator of their personality (her's is ariel because of her passion ,impulsiveness and yearning to be somewhere else)
she claims that she only cares about the house system because itâs an excuse to bust out her green scrunchie however once team activities begin her competitive side leaps out and sheâll become once of the most ruthless people youâll ever meetÂ
she's like a magpie,she's drawn to anything sparkly and tacky.she laughs in the face of good taste then spits in it's eye.she thinks that having a collection of matieral items are a good way to remind people you exist and leave your mark on the world.her main collections are scrunchies,bags and novelty snowglobes
she's been on the track team since sophomore year but still thinks you can use the terms auditions and try-outs interchangeably.the only reason she signed up was because she thought the girl with the sign up sheet was hot and she couldn't say no (she doesn't usually have that problem pretty girls are the exception).she meant to quit but she never got around to it because it turned out she was naturally good at running and had a high stamina and fitness level from years of dance classes
QUESTIONS ABOUT THE RETREAT
what do they think about The Retreat? she has mixed feelings about the retreat.on the one hand sheâs excited to embrace an unexpected situation and share a living space with people that she wouldnât have without the infestation.but sheâs also irritated that the four years of hard-work she put into making her dorm look distinct and collecting scrunchies and various knit-knacks has all gone to waste
do they have any previous experience with camping or other outdoors? her experiences with the great outdoors is limited.the most time she spent in the woods was when sneaking back from parties.her parents scoff at the idea of wasting money on vacations where you have to do manual laborÂ
what does their cabin bunk look like? how will they decorate their space? she would be marie kondo's worst nightmare.she hoards various items and refuses to throw anything away because all the knick-knacks she owns sparks joy
do they believe in the supernatural? to what degree?she doesn't dwell on the supernatural or hypothetical concepts but she could be easily convinced or swept up in the moment if somebody got out a ouija board
are they easily spooked?it's easy to make her jump out of her scream but most of the time she exaggerates her reactions to make people laugh.she's the kind of person to run out of a room shrinking because they saw a spider.however ,sheâs not the type of person to get paranoid or overthink things.
AND FINALLY,
A very dumb but (hopefully) fun quiz made by your admins, please share what result you got.oh you gonna shit yourself bud which probably but she'll make a funny exaggerated story out of all the times she'll shit herself.
Being a part of the BAU, Scotty was no stranger to weird theories. Theories that seemed downright engineered by like, a spooky special edition of a Cards Against Humanity game. But Damian as a vampire? That would definitely explain a lot. There was one problem thoughâŚ
âWicked theory but Iâve seen Damian dip his hand in the holy water font and do the sign of the cross thing. Vampires shouldnât be able to do that, right? I mean, unless they canâŚâ
Scottyâs eyes slimmed to slits as his brain churned out reasons why that could possibly be true. A modern day vampire. With no weakness except a stake to the heart. Oof. That was juicy.
âHave we seen Damian eat? Or does he just push his food around on a plate? Because Iâve seen the Seton captain do that. The Gwen lady? Sheâs pretty intense too. Not in a Catholic Damian way, but in like a⌠sheâll-smack-you-with-that-folder-she-holds-to-her-chest-if-you-tap-her-on-the-shoulder-from-behind kind of way.âÂ
The more he thought about it actually, Scotty came to realize that, âyou know, all of the house captains seem really intense and like, tight. Even Tristan.â
Isobel had a quick rebuttal for Scottyâs criticism but she had an answer for everything.It was impressive how good she was at thinking on her feet for somebody that was usually so ditsy.Years of improv has served her well.
âWhat if holy water just weakens his vampire powers instead of killing him?â,she suggested.Vampire lore wasnât something she was well versed in.Twilight was the only thing with vampires in that she had seen and she only watched it because she was forced to at a sixth grade sleepover.Vampire movies didnât appeal to her ,they were boring or had too much blood.They were made with nerds like Scotty in mind.
âWhy would I know that?I donât watch Damian eat.â,she responded with an eye roll.Lately Kat had forced her to look at Damianâs weird frog like face more than she she would to.âThatâs more Katâs thing.â,she added.Scotty probably wouldnât get it but she thought it was funny and that was all that mattered.
âThe Gewn Lady?Scotty sheâs like two years older than you at the most.âShe rolled her eyes again but this time it was with affection.Sometimes Scotty talked like a grade schooler trying to be polite.She understood why he was an outcast but he was an endearing outcast that needed to be protected at all costs.She had legally adopted him.âYouâre such a polite young man.â
âAnd yeah sheâs pretty intense but itâs cool though.â,she said with a small smile.Kat would smack her for gushing over Gwen and admitting that she was a mystery she wanted to solve but it was safe with Scotty.
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Astrid walked down the hall carrying a shoe box filled to the brim with nail polish. If anyone where to pay attention to Astrid longer than a few moments they would notice that she changed her nail color almost weekly. This might seem odd considering that she dressed more like a grandfather than a teenager girl but she liked how the bright colors of her nail looked against the stark black and white of the piano keys. So over the years she had collected enough polishes to pretty much fill up an old Doc Martins shoe box. She had almost every color as long as it was bright and colorful.Â
Her few amount of girlfriends at Broadripple pretty much used her as their personal nail technician, not that she minded. In fact she actually enjoyed it, it reminded her of the few nights her sister would stay home and hang out with Astrid. They would stay up eating all the junk food in the house, listening to music their father described as an âassault to his sensesâ and painting each others nails.Â
So when Isobel texted her âS.O.S.â and a picture of her chipped nails, Astrid happily put her plans to sneak out tonight to the side (if she was being honest with herself she could probably use a break anyway) and headed to Dot Wing, shoe box in hand.Â
âHey, I wasnât sure what color you wanted so I brought all of them!â She said, once Iso opened her door.â
For most Broadripple students having their dorm to themself was a blessing ,Isobel didnât see it like that though.She hated when Wendy visited home on the weekends.She missed having somebody to belt out showtunes with and Wendy's infectious.In theory she knew it was selfish .Wendy's life didn't revolve around her.But she couldn't control how she felt.Being alone in a large empty room reminded her too much of home.
Isobel sighed deeply ,hoping that she'd find a way to escape the loneliness.She looked down at the remnants of baby blue nail polish when an idea struck.Getting her nails redone would be the perfect distraction and she knew the right girl for the job.A goofy grin danced across her lips as she quickly sent a photo of her chipped nails to Astrid.She couldnât be more different from Isobelâs roommate but she was the perfect person to fill the gap she left.Both girls were capable of reducing Isobel to a giggling mess.
She leapt off her bed when she heard a soft knock at her door.Instead of greeting Astrid with hi like a normal person she exclaimed ,âYouâre the hero I donât deserve.â as she ushered the other girl into her dorm.â "We could try using as many colors as possible?",she suggested with a raised eyebrow."It's going to look like such a hot mess.But a fun hot mess."Her jaw dropped as she was struck with another brilliant idea,âOooh we could try to copy one of those fancy nail art tutorials !â,she squealed.