“More importantly, never get in my way!”, Drago said before heading back to the Agoraphobia cabin.
He sighed as he heads back to the clinic
He saw the dragon approaching, so he put our his cigarette and flicked the but off into the damp grass, putting the gun in its holster at his side and the cigarette carton in his pocket. The winged male stretched on last time and headed inside the cabin.
Lyra sighed and looked around, she'd been at camp for a while, but she couldn't figure out her way around this place.
"Lost again..." She muttered to herself. "It's Agoraphobia, why can I never remember where it is?" She shook her head and adjusted her glasses, then looked around, seeing if there was someone she could ask about where her cabin was, though she felt a bit ashamed that she could never remember where it was. She sighed, her leathery wings drooping a bit.
"Lost again..." She muttered to herself. "It's Agoraphobia, why can I never remember where it is?" She shook her head and adjusted her glasses, then looked around, seeing if there was someone she could ask about where her cabin was, though she felt a bit ashamed that she could never remember where it was. She sighed, her leathery wings drooping a bit.
Qrow knew every inch of the camp by heart, being close friends with the son of the camp director. He ran his dark fingers through his hair, yawning as he sat upon his bottom bunk in the agoraphobia cabin, laying on his belly and pulling out his notebook. He reached over to his nightstand and picked up his quil, dipping it in the inkwell and beginning to wright in Latin.
Lyra approached a random cabin and knocked on the door, it was Agoraphobia, which is unlikely, especially considering her luck. She paused for a second and then pushed open the door.
"Is this Agoraphobia? Sorry, I keep getting lost." She ducked through the doorway, trying to make sure her horns didn't hit the top. She looked at her cabin mates and gave a weak smile, unintentionally showing off her sharp teeth.
"Is this Agoraphobia? Sorry, I keep getting lost." She ducked through the doorway, trying to make sure her horns didn't hit the top. She looked at her cabin mates and gave a weak smile, unintentionally showing off her sharp teeth.
Qrow sighed. “Yes. This is agoraphobia.” He said, agitated, his gaze never leaving his book. His wings acted as a blanket for him, covering him and keeping him warm. Qrow fixed his hood and hair with his dark hands, and continued writing with the gorgeous purple quill that looked as if it was just plucked from a wing.
"Okay, thanks." Lyra hesitated. "And, uh, sorry for, uh, interrupting? Was I interrupting? Uh..." She paused, then shook her head. Then she took an empty top bunk and threw her bag on top of it. Climbing up, she was careful not to let her horns scrape the ceiling.
He heads over to the cabin kitchen (the one zachery is at, dunno if it is the one he is in charge of)
When the she entered, Qrow, being a trained demonologist, got the chills. He didn’t mind it though, and continued writing in the book, before taking a look at the front cover, with its goat pentagram ‘n stuff.
Zackary jumped as the counselor entered; who was indeed incharge of this kitchen, it was in his cabin, after all. Zackary stole some food that his roommates had labeled as theirs and took cover.
He sighed softly "you realize I can still see you right.....everything from your body heat, to your skeletal structure"
Lyra looked at the book Qrow was writing in, she started to get a bit nervous, someone with a book of demonic symbols could mean two things, another demon, or someone studying demons. She tried to brush it off as she pulled a sketchbook out of her bag and opened it to a blank page. She grabbed a pencil out of her bag as well and started drawing.
“Shh I’m not here-“ he hushed from his corner, already devouring some of the food he stole. Zackary fixed his bulletproof glass syringes of blood.
"I dont care if you take it, it will bite you later one just get up" he walks over
The he suddenly got a phone call. He answered it without a second thought. “Yes, what is it?” He got a reply and pursed his lips. “You mean to tell me you lost it?” His wings twitched in annoyance. His green eyes had a bit of agitation behind them.
“Asher I swear to whatever unholy god you believe in-“
”Okay, fine.” Zack said and got up. “What do you need, sir?” He asked, fiddling with one of his own syringes.
"What is with the synringes?" He asks curously
”Just my power,” he smiled, putting the syringe back in its holster.
"Inform me" he says in a curious way, a cold uncaring demeanor
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