Lady Arya

Camp Wyaconda, August 1991

@deegee@KillamriX08@ShankySpice@Stryder BC

Approved by Dee... Welcome to Camp!

Camp Wyaconda, August 1991

@deegeeI’ll hit you up on discord with it.

Camp Wyaconda, August 1991

@deegee I made a map of the camp if you want to see it. I never went to an actual “summer camp” like this. Super excited to say the least.

Camp Wyaconda, August 1991

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Piper McAllister...

.................................................... __________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R: ・Nickname: Pip ・Age: 12 ・Birthday: July 22nd ・Female (she/her) __________________________________________ R O L E: ・Junior Counselor ・Attribute: Fast. __________________________________________ B A C K P A C K: ・Worn leather notebook ・Pencil pouch with art/writing supplies ・Flashlight with fading batteries ・Pack of friendship bracelets ・Small first aid kit __________________________________________ W E A P O N: ・ Bear Spray. (What else is needed?)

.......................................... F E A R S Of the unknown or situations she can not control. S I B L I N G S ・ Conner (18) - Athlete. Major Butthead. ・ Laura (16) - Miss Prissy Pants. F A M I L Y L I F E Before his remarriage, Piper’s dad took her camping every single summer — just the two of them. They spent weeks hiking trails, fishing at sunrise, sleeping beside crackling campfires, and exploring lakes that felt endless to her as a kid. Those summers became Piper’s favorite memories and the place where she always felt closest to him. Everything changed after her dad married her stepmother. The house became quieter, stricter, and more crowded with new rules and expectations. Especially with her new step siblings. Piper struggles to connect with her new family, who doesn’t really understand why she preferred muddy hiking boots over makeup or parties. Her dad still loves her deeply, but between work and trying to keep peace at home, Piper sometimes feels like the old version of their relationship is slipping away. Coming to Camp Wyaconda feels like stepping back into the life she misses — campfires, lake water, freedom, and the version of herself she used to be before everything changed. W H O S H E I S Piper is the kind of person who notices things other people miss — strange footprints, hidden trails, changes in someone’s mood, or clues tucked into conversations. She’s calm in stressful situations and thinks creatively instead of panicking. While she isn’t the loudest camper, people naturally trust her because she listens carefully and stays loyal no matter what. Her artistic eye makes her great at sketching maps, solving puzzles, and remembering details, and her quiet determination helps keep the group together when things start going wrong.

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Hexcode . | . #52BF7C ........ Faceclaim . | . AI Generated ........ Creator . | . Lady Arya

Camp Wyaconda, August 1991

My schedule has been twirled around. Working on my character and will post tonight or tomorrow!

What my Father would call "Boys' Own" stuff...

I like the idea of a summer camp to start out with. Co ed obviously.

Maybe a camp mystery that is told around the campfire and it hasn’t been solved? And the group try to solve or seek out this mystery?

What my Father would call "Boys' Own" stuff...

I feel like this needs me. But that’s up to you @deegee

Project Genesis

Some might say they wished they could see the world through a child’s eyes—the first time magic feels real, when everything is discovery and nothing is routine. Cora knew this was that moment. As promised, the world was new and bright, almost painfully alive. The clearing stretched wide beneath an endless sky, colors richer than anything she had ever known. In the distance, rolling fields unfurled like a living ocean until they met a dark tree line. Beyond that rose mountains—jagged, immense, untouched by industry or war.

The group stood scattered in the tall grass, silent in their disbelief, turning in slow circles as if afraid the horizon might vanish if they blinked too long. Some knelt to touch the earth. Others simply stared upward, mouths parted. Cora pushed herself up from the ground. Jack had already wriggled free, intoxicated by movement and space. She watched as his boots sank into the wet soil. He paused, testing it, then let out a delighted laugh and jumped straight into the nearest puddle. Mud splashed up his legs, spotting his pants. For a second—just a second—Cora forgot everything. Her lips curved into a small, fragile smile.

She closed her eyes and tilted her face toward the sun. It touched her skin without barrier, without glass between them. The warmth settled deep into her bones, easing something she hadn’t realized was clenched. A breeze rolled through the clearing, bending the grass in gentle waves and carrying scents she didn’t have names for—earth after rain, crushed leaves, something faintly sweet. Old and new at once.

Behind them, more bodies stumbled through as the last of the group emerged from the Tear—collapsing onto hands and knees, gasping, disoriented. The air shimmered once, twice.Then the Tear folded inward with a low, thunderous pulse and vanished. Gone, then silence followed. Not the hollow, suffocating silence of the holding room. This silence breathed. It carried birdsong, the soft trill of insects, wind through leaves. Forgotten sounds—extinct in their world—alive here.

Jack splashed again, laughing, catching her off guard.

Then a new sound echoed through the clearing. Low. Deep. A roar rolled across the grass from somewhere beyond the tree line, so vast and resonant it vibrated through the soil and up Cora’s spine. The entire group froze.

“What the hell was that?” a man whispered to her left.

Another roar answered. Closer.

The birds in the treetops erupted in a violent burst of motion, wings thrashing skyward. Branches cracked somewhere within the forest—heavy, splintering breaks that suggested size. Weight. Cora’s smile vanished. She stepped forward, pulling Jack behind her instinctively, her eyes locked on the tree line.

Movement.

At first it looked like the forest itself was shifting. Then figures burst through the edge of it—ten, maybe more—moving fast and deliberate. Armed. Organized.

“On your feet!” a woman shouted as they sprinted toward the clearing. Her voice cut cleanly through the panic, sharp and commanding. “No time for pleasantries! We move now! Squad—perimeter!”

The armed group fanned out in practiced formation, forming a defensive arc between the newcomers and the tree line. Weapons were raised—sleek, unfamiliar designs mixed with older ballistic rifles.

The roar came again. Closer still. The ground trembled faintly beneath Cora’s boots.

“We just got here—” someone gasped behind her, the words breaking apart in disbelief.

“This clearing isn’t secure!” The woman snapped, eyes never leaving the forest. “We are out of time. Move!”

Branches split with a violent crack. Something massive shifted in the shadows beyond the trees. Panic surged through the group all at once. The awe, the wonder—it shattered under the weight of survival. Cora didn’t wait. She scooped Jack into her arms, mud and all, his small hands gripping her collar as she turned and followed the escort. Around her, others stumbled, some still looking back toward the place where the Tear had been—as if it might reopen and offer safety. It didn’t.

Behind them, something heavy exhaled from within the trees.

And whatever it was- it was coming.

Project Genesis

By nightfall, the holding room no longer felt like a place of waiting, it felt like a place of mourning. Stripped of their memories, people clutched what little the Council had allowed them to keep, hands restless, fingers tracing the shapes of loss. The guards carried the bins out of the room, the officer right behind them. The door clicked shut as the sound echoed throughout the room. Cora watched a man sit on the edge of his cot, staring at his empty hands as if something might reappear there if he waited long enough. Across the room, the young couple had finally separated, one wrapped in a blanket, the other staring at the floor. Their fingers no longer interlaced. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft rustle of issued fabric and the occasional sob. No one spoke about what they had given up. Words felt too small for it.

Cora sat on her cot with Jack curled between her legs, his small body warm against her, his head resting on her lap. Her hand moved slowly along his back, a steady rhythm meant more for her than him. She leaned her head against the cold concrete wall, eyes drifting over the room.This moment should feel better, she thought. Happy. Her eyes looked around the room, it was anything but happy. As the lights above them dimmed, those still standing retreated to their small, designated spaces. Cora pulled the blanket over herself and Jack. He fell asleep almost instantly, trusting as only a child could. Sleep, however, hovered just out of reach for her. She listened to the quiet chorus of breathing, to whispered regrets murmured into fabric, to the low, unceasing hum of the facility that never slept. She memorized the rise and fall of Jack’s chest, counting each breath, until exhaustion finally claimed her.

Morning arrived without sunrise. The lights rose to a much brighter tone. The doors slid open with practiced efficiency. The same officer that appeared last night entered, two guards following behind her.

“May I have your attention,” she said, her voice calm, rehearsed to perfection. “We will be leaving the holding room shortly and escorting you to the gateway. There, you will begin your journey—the journey you were chosen for. A chance to give humanity a future.” She paused, letting the words settle.“Please line up along the far wall. Take all approved items with you. You will not be returning here.”

Cora gently shook Jack awake as a nervous energy rippled through the group. Hope—fragile and uncertain—had finally found its way in. She helped him slip on his backpack and boots, brushing sleep from his eyes with her thumbs before kissing his forehead. Slinging her own pack over her shoulder, she lifted him into her arms and joined the line, standing just behind the young couple, whose hands had instinctively found their way back to each other.

The corridor stretched long and narrow, windowless, the air growing colder with every step. With each step, Cora felt something shift deep in her chest—not fear exactly, but the sharp awareness that there would be no return. No undoing this. Her lips curved into a faint smile at the thought of beginning again. A new life, untouched by the ruins they were leaving behind. Two guards stood at the corridor’s end, blocking the way forward. In perfect synchronization, they stepped aside and opened the doors.
The group shuffled into the chamber. Cora, like everyone else, stopped.

It hung in the center of the room—a vertical wound in the world itself. Light bent unnaturally around it, colors warping and twisting at its edges. Its surface rippled, folding in on itself like something alive and restless. It didn’t look stable. It didn’t look safe.

Jack stirred uncomfortably. Cora tightened her grip around him. “It’s okay,” she whispered, forcing steadiness into her voice. “Be brave. Like I showed you.”

The officer’s voice carried across the chamber, calm and unwavering. “You will experience disorientation. Temperature fluctuation. A sensation of compression or falling. This is normal. Do not resist. Keep moving forward. Good luck.”

One by one, the guards ushered people toward the Tear. Some stepped through without hesitation. Others paused, terror written plainly on their faces—yet even they moved forward, driven by the promise of something better waiting beyond. Eventually, it was her turn. Cora held Jack close, staring into the shifting void. We already left everything, she thought. This is just the last step.

She stepped forward.

Pressure closed in from every direction, as though reality itself were folding them inward. Sound vanished, replaced by a deep, vibrating hum she felt in her bones. Jack cried out once, startled, and she pulled him into her chest, bracing her body around his, desperate to shield him from whatever force was tearing at them. For a heartbeat that stretched into eternity, she was certain she had made a terrible mistake. Then Jack’s fingers clenched tightly in her shirt and she held onto that single truth as the Tear pulled them through and released them.

Cora hit the ground hard, her body instinctively curling around Jack beneath her. Her head swam, vision blurred, the world spinning. Around them, voices rose in confusion and disbelief. She steadied herself, breath catching as her hand sank into something soft.

Grass.

She pushed herself upright onto her knees and pulled Jack close just as she realized he was staring upward, utterly transfixed.

“Is that the sky, Momma?” he whispered.

Cora followed his gaze.

And for the first time in her life, she saw blue.

Project Genesis

@Ducksworthall good, feel free to hop in with an opening post.