Between the kindness of strangers and the rumble of the road

[foolishwren]

Who: Aoko Nakamori, Crow Hogan, Harry Mason, Heather Mason, Henry Townshend, Kaito Kuroba
Where: Route 38
When: Nighttime, August 31
Summary: Campfires are interesting places. Even more interesting when the people sitting at one are a detective's daughter, a guy who plays card games on motorcycles, an internationally-wanted jewel thief, an

Comments

[bakaitoukid]

[sooooomeone has settled comfortably around the fire, Aipom perched happily on his head. HE DOESN'T WASTE MUCH TIME BEGINNING HIS STORY, leaning backwards with a hum and a devious little smile curling up the corners of his lips]

Has anyone ever heard the one about the girl in the scarf?

[foolishwren]

.... [Ohoho. She's pretty sure she's heard this one before, but if she's right, man it's a classic.]

I think so, but go ahead.

That's a good one.

[bakaitoukid]

[Gives Heather a look, and starts]

It takes place at an all-girls camp, where a group of three friends were sent for the summer. Cabins were arranged in groups of four, and of course, the three friends were all assigned the same one.

[a pause]

And the fourth bed was given to a strange girl with mousy brown hair. A girl who always wore a lime green scarf tied around her neck.

[SUDDENLY, his voice is high-pitched and girly] "Oooooh~ What a cute scarf that is!"

[and then suddenly, it is lower, but still girly] "Thank you..."

[and normal again] The three friends all admired the scarf the new girl wore, and they immediately inducted her into their group. From that moment on, the four girls did everything together-- swimming, hiking, archery-- they were practically inseparable.

[another beat] But after a while, the original three noticed something strange. The girl never, ever took off her green scarf. She would wear it whenever they went swimming and return with it soaking wet and sticking to her skin. She'd wear it when they went

[foolishwren]

[Yeah, it's a variant on the one she's heard-- but who cares, it's fun to hear it again!]

[So she'll be sitting with her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, giggling at the girly voices and the corniness of it all-- best part of campfire stories, amirite?]

[And when he reaches the end, she claps her hands to both sides of her face in mock fear.]

Oh. My god.

[harryusedworry]

[Sitting with Lisa in his lap. Still a little put off by the amount of people. So he's mostly been in silent dad mode.]

I suppose so.

[Heather you may have to prompt him.]

[foolishwren]

[The last time Harry was probably subject to like three of Heather's friends at once was back when she was tiny, so it's understandable.]

[Still, Heather leans over and elbows him, still holding onto Hazel.]

C'mon, Dad! You know some good ones! I remember!

[harryusedworry]

[Glances over at her.]

....Well yes. I know lots of stories...

[Uncertain face.]

[foolishwren]

[C'mooooon Harry! YOU TELL THE BEST SCARY STORIES. ... For obvious and unpleasant reasons, but still!]

[Heather just grins.]

Ooh, tell the one about the babysitter, dad! That one from those creepy books you used to not let me read as a kid!

[... Yeah.]

[1/?]

[foolishwren]

[Heather grins.]

[It's a grin that spells trouble.]

[With one hand, she removes the stick she's been holding from the flames of the campfire and turns it aside so that Cujo can happily gobble the flaming marshmallow from the end of it, which he does with gusto. With the other, she lifts Hazel the Pichu up underneath her chin in the same way one might traditionally hold a flashlight, to cast dramatic and spooky shadows over one's face. It's not quite as effective when the 'flashlight' is actually a squirmy, faintly-luminous mouse, but it works well enough.]

I'm gonna tell you guys a story... but not just any story.

This one's true.

And yeah, yeah, I know, everybody claims that about their campfire stories... but you can be sure of this one, because it happened right there in my town.

[... But don't worry. She's not referring to Silent Hill, thank god. Although her tale may still ring bells to a few of the little group

[2/2]

[foolishwren]

[Now that the backstory's out of the way, it's time for the main event. Heather's tone grows softer and she leans in to let the fire's light flicker more eerily on her face, mouth-corners still curled upwards deviously.]

A few years later... there was a girl on her way home from the mall. Right around this time of year, actually... She'd stayed out later than she'd planned, having lost track of time... by the time she realized how late it was, the sun was already setting.

Now, she could've walked home on foot... but it was already late, and the subway was way quicker, even though everybody knew it wasn't a good idea to go down there late at night... But she was like, 'Well, if I don't get home like, YESTERDAY, I will be so grounded it's not even funny. Challenge accepted!'

And down she went.

There wasn't a single soul down there that she could see, except for her... and as she walked down the dark platforms, aaaall she could hear were her own footsteps echoing...

... Until she reached the Hazel Street platform.

[... A dramatic

[no_ufo_ending]

[Henry has been listening quietly and eating plain marshmallows out of the bag with that trademark :| face of his the entire time. However, when Heather starts making her DRAMATIC CHOKING SOUNDS Henry actually chokes on his marshmallows. Burger leaps out of his lap and pats furiously at his back.]

Khff-khh-- uhhg.

[He failed to address the fact that if the girl in the story died, who would have been able to spread the story. And that was a good thing because Henry already thinks Vincent is a zombie. He doesn't need to fear Heather eating his brains in his sleep.]

Woah.

[foolishwren]

[Oh yeah. B) CHAMPION OF CAMPFIRE STORIES, Y/N?]

Yep.

S'all true, too.

Spooky, huh?

[no_ufo_ending]

[When it's his turn, Henry blank-faces for a bit and actually considers asking to be skipped. Somehow he didn't think Crow or Heather would let that happen. He swaps his bag of marshmallows out for Burger and plops the cat pokemon into his lap so he'll have something to pet. OH GOD PUBLIC SPEAKING.]

[Burger digs it though. Attentioooons <3]

I'm not a very good story-teller. Sorry.

I took a lot of photography classes in collage and the building we were in wasn't very well-kept on one side. That was the side the dark room was in. Whenever we had to develop something it was like...walking into another building completely. I think most of us decided it was haunted.

[Henry goes quiet and tries to gather up more words. He didn't have very many.]

One night, I had to stay late because some of my film got destroyed and reshoot some stuff. I was walking towards the dark room and heard noises coming out of it--like...moans. It sounded like someone was in pain. It had to be the ghosts, right?

[Henry looks thoughtful. He wondered what it

[foolishwren]

[... Okay so Heather is kind of immature.]

Haha, gross.

Who does it in a darkroom, seriously.

[She already knows the serial-killer story, so she'll let him get on with it for the others.]

[no_ufo_ending]

Art students are weird.

[ 8I ]

If I had a marshmallow for every time I've walked in on us art kids doing stuff like that I'd have...a lot of marshmallows.

[foolishwren]

[Judging by the fact that he's decimated almost an entire bag all by himself, Heather would guess that he probably DOES have a marshmallow for every time he walked in on art kids makin' out.]

Still, though. I mean, come on.

[darkenedgales]

[Stories at campfires? That is definitely one of Crow's specialties. After all, he's spent several years telling his kids those. Not the spooky kind, though, oh no -- life in Satellite, which was also known as 'Doorway to Hell', was scary enough on daily basis, so no one felt the need to further depress themselves by something like that.

... Well, okay, Crow and his friends did, but that was back when they were silly teenagers.

Still, the urban legends passed down all around Satellite weren't mere pastime, but rather source of hope for a better future. And there is one story that is (used to be?) particularly close to Crow's heart...

When his turn to tell a story comes, the duelist clears his throat. He, for one, doesn't need encouragement.]A long, long time ago there was an extremely poor, small island. People who lived there weren't allowed to leave it and could only watch the bright lights of the richer, bigger island neighboring them. On that small island was a man who would always gaze upon the city in the distance from the

[foolishwren]

... Daedalus, huh?

Sorta in keeping with the original, I see.

[Go figure Crow'd be the first to NOT tell a spooky story... but the way he gets so into his inspirational tale is honestly kind of sweet.]

[darkenedgales]

[Yes, he really is. It's probably not hard to tell it's his favorite, too.]

Yeah, kinda. [A beat.] ... I wasn't the one who came up with this, though. It really happened.

[no_ufo_ending]

[Henry wasn't entirely sure whether to take that as, the man jumped or actually ascended. He looks like he enjoyed the story either way though.]

That's cool.

[POSSIBLY STILL THINKING CROW IS A BIRD.]