NO IDEA

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     ◟*  𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑  𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟  𝑓𝑜𝑟  —  @slovne​  ! 

               (  saturday ,  may  28th  —  11:58  am  )  

          it’s  hot ,  esme  found  out  this  morning  that  she  was  sharing  a  cabin  with  someone  when  she  specifically  requested  a  single  cabin  (  ‘  esme ,  honey ,  they  don’t  have  the  space,  and  we  can’t  exactly  build  you  a  new  cabin  in  a  day  ’  —  ‘  and  why  not  ?  aren’t  you  the  one  pouring  your  savings  into  this  ?  ) ,  and  as  esme  just  finished  unpacking  the  last  of  her  clothes  she  realized  she  was  ravenous .  she  made  her  way  to  the  mess  hall  to  see  if  the  chef  could  whip  her  up  something  delicious .  a  watermelon  sangria  and  some  rosemary  roasted  la  bonnotte  potatoes  sounded  divine  right  about  now .  she  took  in  her  surroundings  as  she  walked ,  people  watching  the  new  counselors  momentarily  before  spotting  someone  that  seemed  oddly  familiar .  it  wasn’t  until  esme  saw  her  profile  did  she  realize  that  she  was  looking  at  sloane  buchanan  in  the  flesh .  esme  was  a  little  stunned  to  be  seeing  someone  of  her  social  circle  here .  she’s  about  to  just  keep  on  walking  when  sloane  met  her  gaze ,  and  the  speed  with  which  esme’s  practiced  smile  spread  on  her  face  was  a  little  unsettling .  ❛  sloane  !  hi ,  ❜  esme  greeted ,  walking  up  to  her  and  giving  her  an  exaggerated  air  kiss  on  both  cheeks .  ❛  it’s  so  lovely  seeing  you  here .  what  are  you  doing  here ,  exactly  ?  not  exactly  a  place  i’d  expect  to  see  steve  and  diana’s  sweet  little  girl  —  how  are  mom  and  dad  doing  anyway  ?  ❜

sloane should’ve known better. she’d heard rumors that nijaz arslan had his fingerprints all over this camp, and where nijaz is, esme isn’t ever too far behind. sloane had been back in silverton for all of three hours, and was nearly positive that she wouldn’t be seeing any faces that were too familiar. after picking up her uniforms from the camp directors - these shorts, jesus christ - sloane was on her way back to cabin six to put them with the rest of her things. that is, until a sickeningly sweet voice brought her to a grinding halt. she turned to find that, yes, esme was here, and she was coming this way.

a carefully crafted smile blossomed across her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. it was one that she’d perfected over the years, one she often wore back home. “oh my god, hey!” her tone was warm, though she froze under esme’s touch, every muscle tense. it’s so lovely seeing you here. what are you doing here, exactly? not exactly a place i’d expect to see steve and diana’s sweet little girl - how are mom and dad doing anyway? esme was laying it on thick, hitting just about every nerve. sloane’s smile nearly faltered at the mention of her parents, but she managed to keep it intact.

“it’s not what it looks like…” newt began, words defensive but tone entirely relaxed as he stood from his spot, previously crouched amongst the shrubbery and weeds. a fine supper for the mosquitos int eh area. and sure, maybe there was a joint dangling from his lips, but it was basically neglected. wordlessly he grinned at his companion, reaching up with one hand to pass the joint to his friend. sloane, he had no qualms with sharing with, free of charge. despite the fact that she could likely buy this whole fucking camp several times over. 

“i just fucking hate the lake, you know that. all that moss and the fuckin’ stink of it,” a childish look of disgust temporarily bewitches his features, before being shaken away into something of a mischievous smile. “and besides, have been brought greener pastures here. observe.” without elaborating, he was back down in the green, shifting thorough it as if he’d lost his keys. it took a few moments to find, but as docile as ever newt was able to scoop the slimy dude into his hands. “if i let you hold it, you can’t scream.”

as newt passes her the joint, sloane shoots him a small, grateful smile. befriending newt had its benefits, with access to weed being the most obvious, but beyond that, sloane genuinely liked him. he was among the most interesting people she’d met so far, always able to bring a smile to her face and keeping her on her toes. you never quite knew what to expect with him, and that was one of her favorite qualities of his. 

despite the fact that maia is power walking like her life depends on it and wearing a scowl, she doesn’t actually expect her demeanour to be noticed by sloane. maybe she’s too used to things going ignored by those around her, but  she certainly doesn’t expect, as she leaves the mess hall again to be called out so succinctly. you didn’t tell me this was a race. she purses her lips but doesn’t slow her approach, shrugging her shoulders and brushes the whole thing off. “if you can’t keep up, you can just say that.” she doesn’t mean for it to come out quite so… cold? it’s supposed to be a joke, or something, but instead she just sounds as annoyed as she is. though her competitive side is sure to kick in, this thing with sloane is something else. she’s working hard to avoid meeting her eyes, marching her way back over to the boxes and fighting hard to ignore the comment thrown her way from behind her. 

this time when she reaches the last of the boxes, she reaches down and places one on top of the other, lifting it up with ease though she had rushed through her last trip back and forth. her muscles flex as she keeps a hold on both of them, grateful for the way they block her face, though her cheek presses against the side of the top one as she carries them carefully and a lot more slowly to the mess hall. this time as she and sloane cross paths, she’s focused on the ground in front of her. “one left.” she grumbles and then continues on her way, heading confidently towards the stairs and turning sideways as she reaches them so she can see a little better as she carries them into the mess hall. it’s a precarious job, but she’s never been one to back down from something once she decides to do it. 

in this moment, stubborn doesn’t even begin to cover how maia is acting, eager to be done with this task so she can have an excuse to stop talking to the blonde. 

if you can’t keep up, you can just say that. the hostile words rang in sloane’s ears as she hovered near the stacked boxes in the mess hall. she had hoped that maia would have some sort of competitive spirit, and her reaction did not disappoint. the sun hit sloane like a wall as she exited the building, and she squinted through the heat to see that maia was making her way back with not one, but two boxes in her arms, though she was moving at a slower pace than before. a grin pulled at the corner of sloane’s lips. fuck, she thinks, she really is trying to beat me. she decides to pick up the pace just a little bit, her own competitive nature getting the best of her.

by the time she and maia are crossing each other again, she’s got her eyes set on the final box in the parking lot. one left. she hears the other girl’s voice as she passes and nods, echoing her in agreement. “one left.” once she gets there, she’s able to grab it and turn around quickly, and finds that if she really hustles, she can start gaining on maia. still, though, her efforts are no match for maia’s determination and early lead, despite her opponent’s decrease in speed. when maia enters the mess hall, sloane is still a couple yards behind her, taking the steps two at a time. 

with a sigh, sloane sets down her box with the others. she could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest, a reminder that she hadn’t done any cardio today. “shit - you beat me carrying double the amount of boxes, that’s... pretty bad.” not at all embarrassed, but rather impressed, she laughs softly at her own shortcomings. “you’re fucking fast, maia. you should do track or something.” she’s oblivious - with absolutely zero personal information about maia it’s impossible for her to know she’s making a suggestion that’s already been taken.

when: may 29th, later than they should be staying up

where: cabin six

sloane wasn’t religious, but she was certainly praying that the camp directors wouldn’t be paying close to attention to cabin six tonight. if they did, they might’ve seen the window left open, though they’d been explicitly told to keep them shut after dark. they might’ve seen the lights left on for far too long, or the clouds of smoke dissipating into the night. all it would take was for one director to pass by, and even with their eyes shut, they’d be able to tell what was going on by the smell alone.

inside, sloane and her bunkmate were sitting on the floor, a game of crazy eights long abandoned in the space between them. sloane was leaning up against one of the bunks, sitting cross-legged in her pajamas - an oversized t-shirt that, though faded, read CATSKILL MOUNTAINS and a pair of blue cotton shorts. “oh, that isn’t too bad...” she’s reacting to the story clementine just told her, but she can’t keep a straight face. “okay,” she recants, erupting with a small fit of giggles. “maybe it’s a little bad.” sloane takes another hit from their partially finished joint before passing it off to clem.

“i’ve got another one: on my eleventh birthday, my brothers and i went to this steakhouse - oh, what was it called? i can’t remember, but it felt like a really big deal because my parents didn’t come, and they didn’t usually let us do stuff alone. my brothers kept daring me to steal something and i had already nabbed a set of silverware and a couple bread plates, but they wanted me to go bigger. so when we left i rolled up the big ass mat they had at the door and took it with me. it was at least half my height.” she smiles wistfully, remembering how she and her brothers were snickering the whole way out the door. they were a lot closer then, and she treasured these memories.

“anyway, my parents found the mat and all the other stuff in my brother’s car the next day, and they made me go back to the restaurant and return it all. i had to do a whole formal apology and everything, i was absolutely dying.” laughing at her own embarrassment, sloane shakes her head. “one day i’m going back for that thing.”

“i’m not into the threat of some white guy singing wonderwall.” maia clarifies, though she can’t, with certainty, say that she isn’t into singalongs when they aren’t like… weird. singing loudly along to music in her car with a friend, for example? that’s a singalong she could get behind. or watching the entirety of moana singing along to every song with her youngest sister when she occasionally got stuck babysitting, her big grin, extremely loud voice and sticky fingers both a delight and a terror. 

maia blinks rapidly as sloane suggests that she can’t make a judgement on her emotional capabilities, relieved she’s not trying but thrown off by that answer at first. she tightens her hold on the box, watching a calculating smirk form on the blonde’s lips. instantly she feels guarded all of a sudden, as if she’s about to be deceived by a charming smile and pretty eyes. the compliment is enough, but when paired with the touch to her arm, it’s enough to rapidly make her angle her stare elsewhere. she feels like she’s being played with, as if sloane is weaponising her looks to make her look like an idiot or out her or something. she finds herself standing on the spot for half a second, not even able to enjoy the fact that maybe someone has admired the work she puts into staying fit. 

this time when she turns on her heel, she’s wearing a scowl and her feet pick up fast, aiming to leave the blonde in the dust without going so fast that it seems intentional. “thanks, i mean, that’s what i do it for. compliments from strangers.” this time the comment is mostly muttered to herself as she makes her way back to the mess hall. when she places the box down this time, stacking it neatly on top of the last one, she begins walking without so much as a word, back out into the heat without worrying about the fact that she’s starting to sweat now. 

sloane watches maia’s expression shift from one emotion to the next, confusion to contempt in a split second. she’s gotten this reaction from people plenty of times; it didn’t bug her. there was a certain satisfaction to be found in getting under people’s skin. quite different from the satisfaction of getting under their covers, certainly, though sloane wouldn’t necessarily say the two things were mutually exclusive. as maia’s gaze is thrown to the ground, she knew she had some damage control to do. contempt she could work with, but avoidance? not so much.

but there’s no time for damage control because maia’s off again, leaving sloane behind. sloane thinks she can hear maia grumbling something along the lines of that’s what i do it for, compliments... before she’s out of range and sloane can no longer make out the words. she didn’t attempt to respond. maia was a surprisingly fast walker, though there was nothing casual about her pace. sloane sets off behind her, but at this point maia has too big of a lead. sloane would have to jog to catch up, and due to the weight of the box in her arms doubled with the heat, that was simply not an option.

so she decided, instead, to slow down. as she passed the halfway mark, she could see maia disappear into the mess hall with her box. if she wanted distance, fine, she could have it - until she had to make the return trip back to the parking lot. as the other girl’s frame reappeared through the doorway sloane smiled and called out to her. “you didn’t tell me this was a race.” she was close now, and in a moment they’d be crossing paths. sloane searched for maia’s eyes as she approached. “that wasn’t really fair, was it?” as she passed, she could see that maia was breaking a sweat and resisted the urge to ask her if it was just from the heat. “if you needed a head start, you could’ve just said so.” she threw the words over her shoulder as she continued into the mess hall to set her box down, taking just a moment to linger in the air conditioning.

when: friday, june 3rd

where: the lake shore, during the canoe race

canoe racing wasn’t quite as fast as you might expect when the canoes were filled with kids who’ve never rowed a day in their lives. sloane stood with the other counselors from her age group, watching her kids’ paddles break the surface of the water as rapidly as they could manage. well, almost all of the other counselors. one was notably missing, but it didn’t take her long to realize where he went.

she slipped away from the group, discreetly making her way to the treeline where she found him in a cloud of smoke. “newt,” she started, her tone laced with mock austerity. “you can’t just skip out on these exciting camp activities because you want to get high.” sloane approaches him, a smile beginning to curl at the corners of her mouth. “at least, not unless you share.” she reaches out for what he’s got between his fingers and looks up at him, a silent please that refuses to otherwise make itself known.

“and you were excited,” maia clarifies. “to hang out with middle schoolers all day?” she asks the question while lifting her gaze up to the sun, squinting as the rays temporarily blind her. the warmth does feel nice and she finds that she doesn’t mind the increase in humidity all that much. at home she’d be finding any way to get out of the house, going on hikes by herself or with one of the dogs, going out to the local pool to get laps in, the family loading up in a bunch of different cars to head to utah lake state park. summer camp, though it’s unfamiliar in terms of experience, isn’t so far out of her wheelhouse. another reason she’s chosen to come to silver lake. 

turning her head, she notices that sloane is walking in step with her but only offers a half smile at the rejection of a massacre. yeah, she’s not mourning the loss of that one. “if one of the guys whips out a guitar i’m performing a silent protest until it’s over.” she doesn’t know who that would be yet, though she swears she’s spied some sort of guitar in someone’s cabin while walking past the open door. 

as they reach the stack of boxes, maia pauses, feeling like she’s been running away from this conversation every chance she gets. at the very least, she’s been avoiding eye contact like a menace and in the hopes of not looking like a total freak, she looks at sloane for a moment, giving her a half-hearted smile. “i seem capable how?” she questions, wondering what exactly that’s supposed to mean. she also wants to ask if sloane actually has any experience dealing with teenagers, but she’s pretty sure it’s evident that she doesn’t. crouching down, she gives in to the urge to just keep moving and pick up a box, holding it for a moment as she waits for her answer, continuing that eye contact though the urge to look at anything else is strong. a leaf, the asphalt, a scuff on her shoe, they all call to her. 

at the other girl’s question, sloane simply shrugs, . “you’re aren’t? c’mon, that’s the whole reason we’re here.” not entirely true in her case - sloane didn’t just show up to camp silver lake wanting to help out, but she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of talking about her recent arrest to someone she barely knew. as they walked, she could see out of the corner of her eye that maia was smiling at her again - something small, but a hell of a lot better than nothing. if one of the guys whips out a guitar i’m performing a silent protest until it’s over. though she’s unsure whether or not maia’s joking, sloane laughs. “oh, yeah? you’re not into the singalongs, noted.”

the pair approach the remaining boxes in the parking lot and sloane finally separates from maia’s side to go grab one off of the pavement. when she looks back, she’s met with the surprise of brown eyes already fixed on her, and another smile. i seem capable how? as if on cue, maia has picked up a box. “i mean, i guess i can’t pass any judgement on how emotionally capable you are just yet.” to her surprise, maia’s maintaining the eye contact between them. it’s a bit bolder than sloane’s seen her be so far, and the realization brings a sly smirk to her lips. she makes her way over to maia, holding her own box between one arm and her hip. it’s not that she really needed to get hands-on, but a little voice inside her head told her that perhaps she should. it was a familiar little voice, one that had gotten her in trouble a few too many times, but not once had she ever thought to simply ignore it. where would the fun be in that?

“i just meant that you look really strong.” once she drew near, she placed her fingertips gently on the back of maia’s arm, by her triceps. her touch was swift, and she didn’t linger. “so all that box-lugging prep you do at the gym? it’s worth it.” with that, she steps away, once again holding her box with both hands. “let’s keep moving, there’s not that many left.”

“  what  a  thrill  to  see  that  this  place  was  left  untouched  by  modernity  ,  “  quinn  responds  drily  ,  setting  her  basket  on  top  of  the  washer  that  had  seen  better  days  .  it  looks  like  it  has  one  spin  cycle  in  it  left  .  quinn  feels  very  sorry  for  any  counselor  that  came  after  her  .  if  there  were  even  any  counselors  after  her  (  or  them  )  .  she  got  the  strange  feeling  that  camp  silver  lake  was  on  its  last  leg  .  the  irony  was  -  it  should  have  been  freshly  running  around  .  but  there  were  some  things  that  it  couldn’t  seem  to  shake  :  the  missing  10  ,  especially  .  she  offers  sloane  an  expression  of  relief  as  she  stretches  out  the  handful  of  quarters  ,  her  fingers  brushing  hers  as  she  takes  them  .  

“  in  which  case  ,  i’ll  definitely  be  going  at  the  ass  crack  of  dawn  ,  “  she  muses  ,  turning  with  a  nod  of  thanks  as  she  begins  to  load  the  machine  with  her  clothes  .  she’s  grateful  that  the  summer  isn’t  too  hot  yet  .  quinn  doesn’t  enjoy  the  humidity  .  “  maybe  if  he’s  fresh  from  the  grave  -  uhm  ,  i  mean  ,  bed  -  he’ll  be  more  speedy  with  testing  out  his  skills  in  basic  math  .  “  the  door  to  the  washer  shuts  ,  she  looks  up  at  sloane  then  .  “  so  -  how  have  you  been  enjoying  camp  ?  “

sloane chuckles at quinn’s dry humor - she hadn’t expected her to be cracking jokes, for some reason. quinn felt very stoic to her, but then again, she really didn’t know her too well. they had both been to camp before, but that was years ago. they were more or less strangers now. as quinn loaded her clothes into the machine, sloane hopped on top of a dryer, taking a seat with her basket in her lap. the dryer groaned underneath her weight as she settled in, and for a moment she feared that it might actually fall apart. but it didn’t, so she considered quinn’s question.

had she been enjoying camp? “it’s definitely weird being back after all this time.” ten years abandoned and ten lives stolen would put a strange tinge on any place. “but i think this summer will be nice.” as in, it didn’t feel nice yet. sloane had high hopes that this summer might help her get some closure on that chapter of her life, that being back here would allow her to put away some of those memories for good. but something hung over her head, an uneasiness she couldn’t quite place. “the updates they’ve done really help with the look of the place, you know? i just wish they’d extended to the laundry room.” she rolls her eyes, kicking the dryer with her heel. the impact made a dull, echoed rumbling sound. “what about you? are you liking it so far?”

it isn’t like maia is so endlessly selfless, more so that she feels awkward around sloane in particular, if she’s willing to actually interrogate the why of it all. which, for the most part she isn’t. the simplest and easiest way to put it would be to say that she’s the kind of beautiful that’s uncomfortable to be around, where she encapsulates every heterosexual, feminine ideal she’s never been able to emulate. though, of course, maia’s gaydar has always eben essentially non-existent, which speaks to how much she can read someone upon first meeting. that’s probably why she doesn’t notice that she’s kidding about being offended till she says so, still opening her mouth to correct the assertion. “right. if you say so.” she brushes it off but then pauses, finally lifting her gaze to meet sloane’s, just in time to catch her smile and watch silently for a moment as she ties her hair up. “yeah, well, i have to carry shit all the time at work. what do i go to the gym for if not to lug boxes of crap around for people?” she jokes, the corner of her mouth lifting in amusement at her own words. 

in response to sloane’s joke, though? just an exhale and her brows knitting together for a split second. “i have to ask — what exactly where you picturing?” once she’s satisfied that the other seems ready, she leads the way back out the door to the parking lot, the soles of her faded green hi-top converse slapping against the steps as she throws a look over her shoulder. “i’ve never been to a summer camp that was like… normal.” what she means by that is not mormon. “my expectations only stretch as far as movies and tv and shit, i’m not betting on the chance of a campfire singalong. or a massacre.” her eyes widen, glad she’s facing away from sloane again. 

it’s exactly what sloane wanted: to catch her eye, to have that split second of connection. you could learn a lot about someone from how they looked at you. but it got better. what do i go to the gym for if not to lug boxes of crap around for people? she watches maia crack a smile, finding humor in her own wry joke, and in an instant she can see it: a fleeting glimpse of the person underneath the rather uncomfortable exterior. “right, of course.” sloane murmurs, biting back a smile. she planned on seeing that person again.

i have to ask — what exactly where you picturing? she considers the question for a moment. “mmm, i’m not sure, i guess. hanging out with middle schoolers all day. laying out by the lake, maybe. but definitely less box-moving.” and they’re off again, maia once again taking the lead. jesus christ, would she stop doing that? it was pretty hard to talk to someone who had their back to you. maybe that was the point - to kill the conversation - but sloane didn’t seem to realize (or maybe it was intentionally overlooked). she made some quick strides to catch up and fell in line with maia’s step, staying close to her side. 

“well, i wouldn’t be too surprised if there actually was a campfire singalong. a massacre, though? that one’s probably a reach.” not that the disappearances were a reach. sloane does her best to push the thought to the back of her mind, throwing her gaze to the ground. if she was going to make it through this summer, she couldn’t be hung up on the things that happened ten years ago. quit it, sloane. her mother’s voice rang clearly in her head, snapping her back to reality. “i’m sure you’ll be fine - you seem pretty capable. besides, how hard could it really be to keep track of some teenagers?” sloane shrugs, shooting a playful smile maia’s way.

𝐖𝐇𝐎: open ! 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: althea is playing welcome party bc ofc she is 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: week one , may 29th .

the  first  thing  thea  noted  was  that  summer  camp  was  quieter  than  she  had  been  anticipating  .  of  course  ,  that  probably  had  something  to  do  with  the  fact  campers  weren’t  due  until  monday  ,  and  the  counselors  were  trickling  slowly  .  there  just  wasn’t  as  much  needing  to  set  up  as  she  had  anticipated  .  probably  because  the  higher  up  staff  had  already  prepared  things  for  them  ,  rather  than  just  waiting  for  the  children  to  arrive  .  counselors  are  people  too  !  it  left  althea  feeling  that  kind  of  useless  that  made  anxiety  and  guilt  bubble  in  her  chest  . of  course  ,  she  had  to  make  that  everyone  else’s  problem  when  she  spotted  one  of  her  fellow  counselors  sitting  alone  .  ❝             i  got  this  from  the  mess  hall  ,  ❞  she  announced  as  soon  as  she  was  close  enough  to  extend  the  cold  water  bottle  .  ❝  moving  in  is  a  lot  of  work  and  it’s  really  hot  .  ❞   it  was  summer  after  all  .  ❝  i’m  thea,  by  the  way.  ❞

sloane had run out of things to do pretty quickly - although she had spent a little bit of time chatting to a couple of the other counselors between tasks, she was a pretty efficient worker. she now sat alone, near the start of the dock, watching the lake shimmer in the sunlight. the heat was tempting her to jump in, though all her bathing suits were still packed up in her cabin and she wasn’t quite up to swimming with her clothes on just yet.

so she just sat, her head tilted towards the sky and her eyes closed, letting the sun beams blanket her as she leaned back on the palms of her hands. a sweet voice tore her away from her vacant thoughts, and she looked to her right to find another counselor standing over her with a water bottle in hand. like a goddamn guardian angel. “oh, thanks!” sloane greeted her with a smile and took the water bottle she had been offered. “it’s funny, this is actually just what i needed.” she took a couple long sips as the girl introduced herself. thea. she’d remember that. “nice to meet you - i’m sloane.”

she patted the space next to her, scooting over a bit so that thea would have room. “wanna sit? might be nice to take a break from water duty for a while.”

@slovne​​​  sent  :  “ i’m  just  leaving. ”

𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙼𝙿    :  week  one  (  post  bonfire  ,  june  4th  )  ,  evening  .

𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  :  sloane  buchanan  !

quinn  catches  the  door  with  her  hip  ,  expression  only  slightly  perturbed  (  a  new  personal  best  for  her  ,  really  )  as  sloane  announces  her  intent  to  leave  the  creaky  -  fanned  ,  bug  -  coated  laundry  room  where  they  were  expected  to  do  their  laundry  for  the  next  eight  weeks  .  (  god  ,  what  had  she  signed  herself  up  for  ?  vicky  was  at  home  with  silk  sheets  and  she  had  to  deal  with  bugs  she  hadn’t  seen  in  years  due  to  her  never  leaving  the  house  because  of  her  desire  to  not  have  to  fight  with  anything  that  could  be  easily  exterminated  .  )  “  is  there  something  wrong  with  the  machines  ?  “ she  asks  ,  basket  propped  on  her  hip  .  she  always  washed  her  uniforms  before  she  wore  them  and  these  atrocities  (  plus  ,  the  shirts  )  had  to  give  off  the  right  impression  .  “  i  think  it’s  criminal  that  they  make  us  pay  for  our  uniforms  and  put  quarters  in  the  machine  .  do  you  have  a  few  that  you  could  lend  me  before  you  go  ?  i  didn’t  expect  to  need  a  coin  purse  like  my  grandmother’s  .  “

sloane had intended to let quinn do her laundry in peace, figuring that after the long day spent in silverton with the campers that she might want some time to herself. but she turned back upon hearing the other girl’s words. “oh, nothing’s technically wrong with them, i don’t think.” she began, readjusting the basket of freshly dried clothes in her arms. “they’re just slow pieces of shit, just like how they used to be.” sloane had memories of her counselor complaining about the machines back when she was a camper. at the time, she’d thought her counselor was exaggerating, but now she could see that the grievances were spot on.

at quinn’s request for quarters, sloane nodded. “yeah, i’ve got plenty.” she set her basket down on one of the washers to fish the coins out of her bag. “i know, isn’t it annoying? you’d think with the reopening and everything they’d have updated these by now.” she offers a handful of quarters to quinn with an outstretched arm and a smile. “there’s an atm at the gas station closest to here,” sloane states, “it only gives you bills, but if you take it to the cashier inside, he’ll break it into quarters for you. i’m not sure if your kids are as restless as mine were, but you might have to bribe them to stand around while that guy counts coins.” she recalled how she had to buy a few of her campers slushies to keep them entertained while she got her money out. “he’s about as old as these machines, and twice as slow.”

status: closed when: week one, may 29th, midday  where: between the parking lot and the mess hall tagging: @slovne​​

     maia had taken one of the heavier boxes of the stack they’d been instructed to carry into the mess hall, her arm muscles on display with her t-shirt sleeves rolled up. the sun was warm, the chorus of cicadas almost comforting, reminding her of camp experiences she’d never had. she’d been wandering around for part of the morning aimlessly, needing a task to latch onto but finding nothing. without her younger siblings and with no campers in sight yet, maia was left to try and make conversation with people her age. it wasn’t like it was that hard, or anything… it just seemed that so many of them were new yorkers or even former campers. the girl behind her happened to be both and as she turned her head to look out into the trees, she caught sight of the blonde, realising she was power walking needlessly. “you don’t need to help with this, y’know.” as if they both hadn’t been assigned it. “i can do it, if you want.” 

     maia fell back into step beside sloane, avoiding eye contact as they reached the propped open door of the mess hall. it wasn’t that she underestimated her (well, maybe a little), only that she came across like someone who wasn’t all that interested in doing physical labour. 

sloane hadn’t volunteered for this task - she was selected at random as a result of her proximity to one of the directors at the time the task was given out. initially, she’d been a bit annoyed - some other counselors got to decorate the cabins while she had to move boxes? however, as she walked behind her companion, she found herself with the realization that she didn’t mind the busywork. she’d noticed maia yesterday during move-in, just as she noticed her now - noticed the way her arms were toned, muscles flexed from the weight of the box in her hands. sloane’s own arms were just starting to feel the slightest bit of fatigue as the other girl’s voice reached her ears. you don’t need to help with this, y’know. i can do it, if you want. sloane raised an eyebrow as maia fell back to match her pace. 

“oh, you don’t think i can do it?” she’s joking, and tries to meet maia’s gaze to make sure she knows it, but the brunette was looking away. “kidding,” she adds briefly before continuing. just in case. “don’t worry about me; i can keep up.” sloane kept her eyeline level with maia’s as she put her box down in the mess hall, hoping that maia might look her way for even a split second. “my box wasn’t too bad, actually - although, i’ll admit, i think you got the heavier one.” she’s smiling, a soft, lighthearted smirk, as she throws her hair into a quick ponytail. “is this what you pictured your summer being like?” sloane asks, beginning to turn back towards the door. "carrying boxes back and forth from the parking lot? personally, my expectations have been shattered.” another half-assed joke, and she’s hoping it’ll get maia to smile. she seemed a little tense, and sloane was curious to see what she was like once that wore away.

🐟: what does your character's voice sound like ? do they tend to use simple or wordly vocabulary ?

while it will certainly change according to who sloane is talking to and why she's talking to them, generally, sloane has a pretty pleasant voice. when she's calm, her tone is light and even. if she needs or wants something from you, you'll likely hear a sort of deeper, honeyed timbre. she often plays around with dynamics, forcing people closer in order to hear everything she's saying. her vocabulary is pretty decent - she's a big reader and credits her lexicon to that - but she has never thought of it as particularly impressive.

🦕: what is something your character wishes they could go back in the past and redo ?

it feels too obvious to say that sloane wishes she could change the way she went about her evening when emily went missing, but that's definitely at the top of her list. another instance would be when she got her dui - she wishes she just would've told that guy and his ferrari to fuck off, that she had never been to that bar with him at all. all it did was land her back here, at camp silver lake.

📘: what is a memory that makes your character feel proud ? describe the memory .

there aren't a ton of moments from sloane's life that stick out to her as proud achievements, but she does have a couple. one was her fourth ballet recital. she was six years old, and she had a short featured part in her number. she and the other dancers in her class were dressed like strawberries, and she remembers that although her stem hat obscured a little bit of her vision, she could see her entire family in the front row, beaming at her. after the show, they told her that she was the most graceful berry on the stage, and she believed them. her mother took photos with her and sloane remembers her saying, "people are going to love these, sloanie. look how cute we are!" it was a blissful moment where she could feel proud of herself without realizing how much her mother was capitalizing off of it.

🧚: candles or clouds or flowers ?

sloane is a huge fan of candles, especially scented ones. she likes the ones labeled as any sort of "water" scent - think fresh rain, ocean breeze, morning mist, etc. she always gets the huge ones with multiple wicks so they last longer (unsurprisingly, she's also a nut about candle care. burn it all the way to the edges the first time!). at home, she'll often light candles in her room to clear her head on days when she and her mother can't be in the same room without picking fights. using something that involves her senses, like a scent, can be very grounding for her. plus, who doesn't love some romantic room lighting?

🥑: a keen eye for detail or take rules too seriously or actions speak louder than words ?

as a result of growing up somewhat in the public eye, sloane has developed a pretty calculated way of presenting herself to the world. her eye for detail is finely tuned. she learned very early on that no matter what she does, there is no way to make everyone happy. she does, though take into account just about every possible perspective, path, and consequence when making decisions. even the times when she decides to just say "fuck it" are conscious choices. she has reached the point at which she's not afraid to just do what she wants, but will always be hyperaware of how her choices affect her and those around her.

🌳: bolds or pastels or neutrals ?

in an effort to not have to keep up with the never-ending and remarkably fast trend cycles, sloane tends to stick with a neutral wardrobe. her style is pretty minimalistic and timeless - or at least, she hopes it is. however, she isn't shy about adding a bold color or print in now and then. if it was all neutrals all the time, she will admit that would be pretty dull. pastels aren't really her thing, though. if she is going to have some color, it's going to be vibrant.

rue: does your muse have any regrets ? what are some of their deepest ones ?

answered !

fezco: what does family mean to your muse ? are they close with theirs ? why or why not ?

family is tough for sloane. in a sense, she is her family name. or, at least, her mother's name. her father feels very distant from her, and while she and her brothers were closer growing up, they tend to isolate themselves from her now, embarrassed to be associated with her reputation. it wouldn't hurt as much if it weren't for her nieces, who she loves more than anything. sloane loves spending time with them and will cancel any plans to go see them, but after a big fight with her oldest brother a couple years ago, she rarely has the opportunity to do that. her relationship with her mom is extremely volatile. it's been clear for years that her mother's love for her is extremely conditional, but for some reason she can't shake the desire to earn her mother's praise.

ashtray: is your muse loyal ? who is someone they would never betray no matter what ?

sloane is extremely loyal once she knows she can trust you, but until then, she'll save her own skin before thinking about anyone else's. it's tough to get to that point with her, but also quite rewarding. the only people she can currently say with 100% confidence she would never betray are her nieces. those girls, she would die for. sloane would love nothing more than for that number to grow - she wants to let people in. it just takes a while to get her there.

maddy: what traits do they look for in a  relationship ? why do they have these standards ?

sloane doesn't really do relationships the way most people would. she's never dated the same person for more than five months without breaking up with them at least once. she'll get bored and want something new, but will later crave their familiarity. for someone to really capture her heart, they'll have to capture her attention first - not just physically, but intellectually as well. if she is considering having more than just a fling with someone, she wants to make sure they are someone that challenges her mind and can keep her on her toes. someone who isn't afraid to ruffle sloane's feathers a little bit. and, of course, she wants someone that will just look at her and see sloane, not sloane the nepotism baby gone wild.

nate: what are your muse's most negative traits ? how do these traits influence their lives ?

the emotional wall that sloane built long ago has had, by far, some of the worst effects on her life. she feels an intense sense of loneliness knowing that there isn't a single person in her life that she could actually fully trust. it's something she yearns for, and yet, her own emotional unavailability and fear of getting hurt keep her from forming lasting connections - not to mention a quick temper. usually she can keep herself in line, but there are some situations she can't help but escalate. lastly, her lack of a sense of self leaves her directionless. she wants to be known as her own person, but who is that person? her life feels aimless without grand aspirations, but she doesn't know herself well enough to come up with any.

rue: does your muse have any regrets ? what are some of their deepest ones ?

absolutely. there are lots of situations sloane wishes she could've handled differently, conversations she wishes she hadn't stormed out of, and times she wishes she would've spoken up for herself. she regrets her recent dui, as it's the reason she's landed back here at camp, but perhaps her biggest regret is going to sleep before her bunkmate ten years ago. she knows she's not truly to blame for emily's disappearance, but has always wondered if she had stayed up a little later and saw that emily didn't come to bed, could she have been found?