ITP: (Less than) triumphant return to play!
[There's a shout, half of surprise and half of pain, from near the duckpond, and a number of gunshots. It rather resembles Roland's first entry into Camp, in fact, except that it's farmland not swampland, the guns sound - at least to a trained ear - significantly less powerful, and the shout is that, not of a middle-aged man, but of a fourteen-year-old boy]
Off! Be off, you thrice-bedamned birds!
[And now we get visual. Here's a tall, skinny teenager, with a nickel-plated gun in each hand, shooting and kicking at the mallards currently swarming him as he backs away from the pond. He's got a few very recognisable features - the faded blue eyes and the jet-black hair, for example - but he's still not hugely recognisable]
[Shaking one leg to dislodge a particularly persistant duck, he curses and storms off to find out where the hell he is]
[[OOC: Roland's been deaged to the beginning of the comics in a lame attempt to get around me having missed about two months of Camp life. Also, I'm still mildly computer-less, so I may be slow]]
ETA: It's twenty to five, and I'm meant to be beating the jetlag, not helping it. I'm going to bed; back tomorrow]]
Off! Be off, you thrice-bedamned birds!
[And now we get visual. Here's a tall, skinny teenager, with a nickel-plated gun in each hand, shooting and kicking at the mallards currently swarming him as he backs away from the pond. He's got a few very recognisable features - the faded blue eyes and the jet-black hair, for example - but he's still not hugely recognisable]
[Shaking one leg to dislodge a particularly persistant duck, he curses and storms off to find out where the hell he is]
[[OOC: Roland's been deaged to the beginning of the comics in a lame attempt to get around me having missed about two months of Camp life. Also, I'm still mildly computer-less, so I may be slow]]
ETA: It's twenty to five, and I'm meant to be beating the jetlag, not helping it. I'm going to bed; back tomorrow]]