One: Gosh, mom, I want to go home ~ ♫ [Barry doesn’t know what to do with himself.
He woke up all alone this morning in a place he didn’t recognize, his mom nowhere to be found. That’d been pretty scary, pretty nerve-wracking. Maybe she’d taken him to another one of those weird summer camps and he just... didn’t remember her leaving. That’s not very much like him. That’s not very much like her, just leaving without even a note or a kiss goodbye. But given the circumstances, it’s the only logical conclusion he’s able to draw.
It’s not so bad, though. He’s a big boy now, all of eight-and-three-fifths years old. He can take care of himself.
It’s a pretty weird summer camp though, even in the context of other summer camps. The cabins are all wrong-looking. There are no maps with labeled mess-halls or caretaker residences or worship shrines. There are no helpful signs or notice boards or even emergency bells. Weird. What kind of camp is this?
He walks around outside for a while, tentative and shy, all of three foot eight and dressed in bright blue denim overalls covering his big round tummy. It’s really hot out here. Where are all the adults?
At the first sign of life, either child or adult, he hesitates before approaching, formally clearing his throat to get the stranger’s attention. When he speaks, his voice is small and light, and his eyes won’t quite meet yours as they nervously dart around behind the thick round glasses he’s sporting.]
E-Excuse me, um... Do-- Do you know wh-where the manager’s office is?
Two: One, two, buckle my shoe ~ ♫ [It’s been a few days. It’s still a little weird, still a little scary, but Barry is trying to keep himself entertained. In lieu of books with legible writing, he’s taken to exploring the neighborhood around the house where he woke up that first day, slowly daring to venture further and further away with each trip.
First observation: there are no libraries. Dunk. There doesn’t seem to be a school either. No books, no pens, no parchments, no abacuses, no magnifying glasses. In other words, no fun.
Second observation: there doesn’t seem to be a lot of adults around. This is very disconcerting. Barry likes adults. They’re smart, and rational, and responsible - at least compared to kids his age. He always preferred hanging out with the teachers back home than his fellow students. That’s sadly in short supply around here.
Third observation: there is a lot of sand here. Given the sweltering climate, Barry concludes this must be some sort of desert with little oasis pockets, given that he sometimes finds water which tastes a little funny, but is seemingly drinkable. This is at least something. Without books or abacuses or adults, Barry can at least entertain himself with sand.
What do you like the most about sand? Building sand castles? Drawing pictures with sticks? Making hopscotch courts with pebbles and jumping around in the pillowy dunes? Whichever you’re most into, you can find this tubby little human boy doing that exact thing with a bright grin on his face.]
Three: Wildcard [OOC: Get a hold of me at eminamazing if you want to write something else! Anything is fair game, and I’d love to hear your ideas :> This is also where you’d go to claim that good good Adult Barry content that you crave.]
Barry Bluejeans | OTA
[Barry doesn’t know what to do with himself.
He woke up all alone this morning in a place he didn’t recognize, his mom nowhere to be found. That’d been pretty scary, pretty nerve-wracking. Maybe she’d taken him to another one of those weird summer camps and he just... didn’t remember her leaving. That’s not very much like him. That’s not very much like her, just leaving without even a note or a kiss goodbye. But given the circumstances, it’s the only logical conclusion he’s able to draw.
It’s not so bad, though. He’s a big boy now, all of eight-and-three-fifths years old. He can take care of himself.
It’s a pretty weird summer camp though, even in the context of other summer camps. The cabins are all wrong-looking. There are no maps with labeled mess-halls or caretaker residences or worship shrines. There are no helpful signs or notice boards or even emergency bells. Weird. What kind of camp is this?
He walks around outside for a while, tentative and shy, all of three foot eight and dressed in bright blue denim overalls covering his big round tummy. It’s really hot out here. Where are all the adults?
At the first sign of life, either child or adult, he hesitates before approaching, formally clearing his throat to get the stranger’s attention. When he speaks, his voice is small and light, and his eyes won’t quite meet yours as they nervously dart around behind the thick round glasses he’s sporting.]
E-Excuse me, um... Do-- Do you know wh-where the manager’s office is?
Two: One, two, buckle my shoe ~ ♫
[It’s been a few days. It’s still a little weird, still a little scary, but Barry is trying to keep himself entertained. In lieu of books with legible writing, he’s taken to exploring the neighborhood around the house where he woke up that first day, slowly daring to venture further and further away with each trip.
First observation: there are no libraries. Dunk. There doesn’t seem to be a school either. No books, no pens, no parchments, no abacuses, no magnifying glasses. In other words, no fun.
Second observation: there doesn’t seem to be a lot of adults around. This is very disconcerting. Barry likes adults. They’re smart, and rational, and responsible - at least compared to kids his age. He always preferred hanging out with the teachers back home than his fellow students. That’s sadly in short supply around here.
Third observation: there is a lot of sand here. Given the sweltering climate, Barry concludes this must be some sort of desert with little oasis pockets, given that he sometimes finds water which tastes a little funny, but is seemingly drinkable. This is at least something. Without books or abacuses or adults, Barry can at least entertain himself with sand.
What do you like the most about sand? Building sand castles? Drawing pictures with sticks? Making hopscotch courts with pebbles and jumping around in the pillowy dunes? Whichever you’re most into, you can find this tubby little human boy doing that exact thing with a bright grin on his face.]
Three: Wildcard
[OOC: Get a hold of me at