[center][hr][hr][h1][color=1b1464][b]FOX BELLAMIA[/b][/color][/h1][hr][hr]
[img]https://45.media.tumblr.com/e2ed0dee4755a77e2951327ec9c740fa/tumblr_nra86nxlFq1ttm9oso1_r1_500.gif[/img]
[b][u]Location;[/u][/b] grounds > blue cabins > grounds > main hall
[b][u]Interacting With;[/u][/b] n/a
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fox [i]hated[/i] camp liberty. as much as he could act like a good little boy, put on that show for the counselors, he felt sick whenever he saw that handmade sign and the cheesy, uniform cabins spread all about. even the water was nauseating. there was so much of it, though; one could only imagine how easy it would be to drown someone in it. how long it would take to find them - if anyone even bothered to check the lake. how long it would take to find the culprit - if anyone even bothered to see if there was one. god knows teenagers nowadays are offing themselves at the simplest of provocations. hell, fox'd considered it during winter this year. if you've heard of a suicide pact, the perfect pair for that sort of thing would be him and his sister. they couldn't exist singularly without the other sibling, so why not just die together and get it over with? the looming sense of dread over both of their heads whenever they entered the house was a factor, too, but still. anastasia was the most important thing to fox.

of course, he knew he was going to be sorted into the blue team from the start. he never thought he was as much of a 'spoiled little shit' (his words) as some of the others, truthfully, nor was he as 'weak-minded' or 'weak-bodied.' he could be sure of these things at the least, because if there's any trait that describes him, it's that he is independently self-assured. thank god, too, otherwise the opinions of the angsty teenagers that surrounded fox would define him. that would be hell for any bellamia. the smart ones all think he's some kind of snake, supposedly they can 'see through' him, whatever that means. [i]there's nothing to see through[/i], he'll protest silently, but of course that's not true. the more dimwitted ones are slow to discover that he doesn't appreciate their 'innocence and naïvety.' those two traits in one human above the age of twelve equates to weakness, if you ask fox. sure, you could be curious, but innocence and naïvety describes a child in his mind. bellamias don't associate with children. this one in particular doesn't associate with anyone, honestly, unless they've got something to offer, but the point stands.

and so here he was, at his fourth year of camp liberty, god knows why. his father insisted his sister and he be separated for a while. fox was not sure why the [i]"famous rockstar"[/i] (more like washed up C-lister) kurt bellamia wouldn't just keep him and send anastasia off, because he likes fox more anyway, but it's something about "[i]fox needs to learn to empathize with his peers,[/i]" or "[i]fox needs to learn self-control and coping methods for his hostility,[/i]" or "[i]what in seven hells is wrong with your kid; send him to summer camp for a cure.[/i]" you know, typical stuff. after encounters with other campers in his previous years, he wasn't sure exactly how this one was going to go. three years started out predictable - in his first year, he could pick out the weakest of the community and target them, and by the end of the year he had managed to befriend most of the more glorious members. of course, these people moved on from camp eventually, most of them being older than fox. in his second year he had less notoriety. a certain rejection and people 'figuring him out' sort of blew it all up. in his third year, last year, he was more outcast than usual, which totally fucked up his self-esteem, but that's the only bummer. he swore his fourth year would be better.

knowing where to go already, fox trekked past a growing crowd of newcomers and past campers alike, socializing and preparing themselves for whatever was in store today. the blue cabins were well-kept - it's not like they stood out distinctive from the rest, but they had a certain glossiness to them, like the royalty inside insisted on making their temporary residence reflect their personalities. the attempts were surprisingly successful. he ran my hand over the wood, getting used to this place again, and caught a splinter in his finger. as he stepped inside he curiously inspected the wood stuck in his flesh, twisted it out promptly, and a circle of blood grew where the splinter was. now, he wouldn't claim to be very much like a cat usually, what with the whole 'peeing to mark your territory' thing. and sure, blood isn't exactly [i]sanitary.[/i] but he's fox bellamia, god damn it. entitled, he slammed the door shut and streaked the vermillion substance along the side that faced in, making it look like some sort of identification. what a fine display, he decided, before opening the door again to welcome others.

he had one suitcase on his person, filled with clothes and too much hygiene supplies to count. these kids got gross. something about puberty and hormones, he guessed, not like [i]fox[/i] had ever experienced it. the suitcase in question was thrown across the room, landing spot on the only individual bed in the cabin. score - that's what you get for being early to the party! he ran the blood, now trickling down his finger, along the headboard this time, claiming it as his own. [i]don't know if they can use it again after this year, maybe i've got some sort of disease, but whatever.[/i] he unpacked with rapid speed, then peeked into the bathroom to ensure he looked all right. good [i]god,[/i] he looked half-dead. fox cupped his hands under the faucet and let water flow into them, quickly splashing some over his face, then proceeded to drink some of the tap in the hopes that some colour would return to his face. lo and behold, a honey tinge rose to his features soon enough, and he ran gangly fingers through his hair to tame the gentle curls.

now to find a hotspot. fox eyed a kid by the dock suspiciously for a moment once he had emerged from the cabin, then decided it wasn't worth his time. not enough of an audience. he approached the gaggle of newcomers flooding the entrance to the main hall, but they were all just unsure of themselves, too confused to focus on him for the moment. fox pushed past them rather crudely and moved slowly down the hall, sending a short glance into each room he passed. reception was, again, filled with rookies. the dining hall wasn't serving food yet, as far as he could tell, but some people were taking a look around, getting a feel for the place. the media room did have someone, some brunette sat near the gaming consoles. not interesting to him. and a red teamer, too, so screw that. he moved along and finally decided on simply staying in the designated area for introductions, choosing the largest one-seater he could find and sitting poised as hr was able to with such a gigantic cushion. 
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[center][hr][hr][h1][color=8493ca][b]OLIVER CASH[/b][/color][/h1][hr][hr]
[img]http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ma58k6vHY41r27ee2.gif[/img]
[b][u]Location;[/u][/b] forest > main grounds 
[b][u]Interacting With;[/u][/b] n/a.[hr]
[i]it's like my family's literally [/i]out[i]to get me, dead-set on upsetting me however they can[/i], oliver chided himself resignedly. his mother has the best intentions, he knows, and if father had any conscience left in him he might have, too, but sending oliver by bus to his first day of camp seemed like an obvious no-go. for people who got so upset whenever he suffered public panic or ocd attacks, they sure like to put him in situations that trigger them. and now oli was stuck, situated between a rather large, round man with a cherry for a nose, and an old woman who stared straight ahead as if this were her military training. he decided to copy the old woman instead of scrutinizing the other members of the bus and kept his eyes ahead, drowning out any fear. that didn't exactly work. when you try to make yourself forget how scared you are, it puts more pressure on you, and you get even more anxious. he knew that already - [i]what an idiot![/i] he chided again. giving up the charade, he continued twisting in his chair to check out the people behind and in front of him, much to the dismay of the people beside him.

he'd heard only good things about the camp itself. [i]people could be trying to trick me, sure.[/i] sure. but oliver needed to start believing his peers and be less cynical. what better place to start than a good ol' camp? other than honing his social skills, camp liberty was a sort of escape. some kids would find summer camp a waste of time, a waste of summer; as for oli, he was wasting away at home, and the fresh air was... needless to say, refreshing. he didn't want to take care of his sisters anymore, or his dad, or wait for mother to return home with a month's supply of food after her frequent absences. she'd finally gotten some paid leave, after all, so she may as well put it to some use. oli felt slightly guilty about it, though, and nearly stopped himself from boarding the bus earlier. surely he couldn't just leave that crooning woman all by herself with toddlers and her delirious husband... a part of him was vengeful, though, and wanted to make her feel what he felt. [i]that's what you get for leaving me,[/i] something or the other. it's all very 'woe is me' and he thought he shouldn't be pitying himself so much. shut down train of thought.

the bus didn't take him directly to the entrance, so oliver followed a trail through a cluster of pine until he saw a large lake, and after that, a mesmerizing waterfall. he stared at it for a moment, clutching his backpack to his body, and felt doubt bubble up once again. this place seemed too grand for him. too good. oli stepped back, then heard the faint sound of laughter from the nearest cabin, and turned his head curiously. some kids were already there, apparently, and no one was being violent, or loud (well, with bad intent), or destructive... that was good, very good. he closed his eyes and sucked in a long, trembling breath, moving on frail legs towards the camp entrance. there must have been thousands of cabins around here. that upgraded the possibility of intimacy - he reluctantly stepped back again at the thought, before convincing himself, [i]it'll all be okay, it'll all be okay.[/i] it appeared he had placed himself in the sort of 'centre stage,' because as far as he could see, he was surrounded by freshwater and groups of cabins and vibrant foliage.

unsure where exactly to go, oliver followed the lead of two much taller boys, who - after a fair amount of inspection, or as much as he could do from a distance - he decided were twins. they had a strange way of communicating: relatively competitive with one another, stereotypically sardonic, but with no actual malice in their voices. they inadvertently led him to a hall, and he peeked into a room labelled 'reception' as the two wandered about, quickly retrieving information about where he had been sorted and a pamphlet about the camp itself before heading back into the hall. oliver hurried to catch up, and found himself at a gathering of couches and seats and more; feeling utterly trapped by the amount of people in the room, he glanced over his shoulder anxiously at the door to plan a great escape. perhaps he could leave now and just hide in a cabin for the rest of the summer, no? it's not like all of them could be occupied, surely. but he was already here, and he tugged the straps of his knapsack closer, doing his best to pretend he hadn't just been following the twins because he's just that helpless.

oliver gently situated himself in a plastic chair, not bothering to take up any of the ones with cushions, because he was pretty certain those were reserved for the oldtimers. he pulled his belongings from where they weighed down on his back and rested them in his lap instead, drawing his feet up to cross over one another in the chair. thank god he wasn't that big already - oliver fit well enough into the crook of the seat, huddled like a small child attending their first play. honestly, that's what he felt like, too: lost, alone, not sure what he was doing or where he was. there were plenty of people to talk to around here, it seemed like, but oli didn't have the guts to approach anyone. trying to distract himself from his wandering mind, he focused on the calloused skin over his knuckles, pressing a fingernail between the individual wrinkles and picking off what flesh he could.
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