𓇢𓆸 ONAGRACAE : juneby camping ground.
At Juneby Camping Ground, FIREWEED handles check‑ins with a practiced calm, though lately the woods feel wrong, as if the trees lean in a little too close when no one is looking. WHITE DAISY maintains the trails with a bright confidence that cracks whenever they find fresh cryptic markings. CALIFORNIA POPPY runs the gear shed, collecting shaken stories from hikers who return pale and trembling, insisting they heard someone screaming deep in the forest long after quiet hours. WOOD LILY patrols the fire pits at night, flashlight trembling as they catch glimpses of figures darting between trees, too tall and too thin to be human. WILD LUPINE, the newest intern, tries to laugh it all off until they find a shredded sleeping bag at an empty campsite, still warm, still smelling of blood.
The staff has always avoided conversation about the missing coworker, the same sibling MOUNTAIN LAUREL still mourns, but now the forest makes it impossible. Radios crackle with distorted voices that mimic their own. Trail cameras show silhouettes standing inches from the lens, though no one was there when the footage was taken. Something stalks the campground at night, dragging its limbs through the underbrush, leaving behind footprints that sink too deep into the soil. When FIREWEED discovers a torn scrap of clothing belonging to the missing sibling near the old quarry path, soaked through with dried blood, the group realizes the disappearances aren’t random. Something ancient and starving has been living in Juneby’s woods, watching them, learning them, waiting for the right moment to step out of the dark. And as the nights grow longer, the staff begins to understand that whatever is hunting them isn’t finished, it’s only just begun.
Notes: all characters must be above the age of twenty. All skeletons are campground employees taking care of children between the ages of 9-14.
FIREWEED: open. Calm under pressure and endlessly patient, Fireweed has worked at Juneby long enough to know the forest’s moods, which is why the recent shift terrifies them. They’ve started keeping a private logbook of strange sightings, missing campers, and the way the trees seem to lean closer every week. When they find a blood‑soaked scrap of their missing coworker’s clothing near the old quarry path, Fireweed becomes the reluctant anchor of the group, torn between protecting the kids and uncovering what really happened to the person they lost.
WHITE DAISY: open / poc. Bright, capable, and beloved by the campers, White Daisy is the kind of counselor who knows every trail by heart. But lately, the woods feel unfamiliar. Fresh symbol marks appear on trees they swear were clean the day before, and something keeps following them during morning rounds, always just out of sight. White Daisy sees figures in the darkness that no one else can. Despite their cheerful nature, they find themselves protective of the children in the camp. Their cheerful façade cracks more each day, especially when they realize the symbols might mean something.
CALIFORNIA POPPY: open / poc. Known for being the drummer of the sensational artist apple crumble, California Poppy enjoys their time in the place they once called home. Stationed in the gear shed, California Poppy hears every shaken story from hikers who return pale and trembling. They’ve always brushed off the tales as campfire nerves, until they start hearing the same scream described by different people, all from different parts of the forest. Poppy has begun collecting these accounts, pinning them on a corkboard behind the counter. The map they’re forming looks disturbingly intentional. They begin to regret leaving the high life in L.A.
WOOD LILY: open / poc. The night‑shift fire‑pit patrol is supposed to be boring, but Wood Lily hasn’t slept properly in weeks. Wood Lily is the provider for their younger siblings, the job pays well. This is something they remind themselves of when their flashlight keeps catching figures darting between the trees. They might describe them as too tall, too thin, too wrong. They’ve tried reporting it, but the cameras never show anything. Now they walk their rounds with a growing sense of dread, convinced that whatever is out there knows their schedule… and is getting bolder.
WILD LUPINE: open. The newest intern, eager to impress and desperate to fit in, Wild Lupine tries to laugh off the staff’s ghost stories. Rumors follow them from their last camp, a tragedy, the new staff is kind enough to look past it. Wild lupine is relieved to be in Monaco, until they find a shredded sleeping bag at an empty campsite, still warm, still smelling of blood. Since then, they’ve been jumpy, paranoid, and unable to shake the feeling that something is stalking them specifically. They’re beginning to suspect the forest recognizes them… and remembers something they desperately try to forget.
