Un collab avec.
Lieu: Cabine Bleue -> Salle principale
Interagir avec: Brièvement, Alex, Roi ; sinon, juste Astrid et Aiden bavarder!

Astrid Kitchener, une fois en sécurité dans sa cabine, a passé beaucoup de temps à parler de merde avec son frère pendant qu'elle déballait l'essentiel : son journal, son chapelet et son casque (avec la technologie du téléphone-aka-téléphone attaché du paradis du diable-aka-musique). Elle voulait revoir beaucoup de gens, de Jess, à Aiden, à Alex, à ces stupides jumeaux de l'équipe Green, à Aiden...
Elle a jeté ses sacs plus légers sur la couchette supérieure où elle dormait habituellement, parce que apparemment l'éblouissement d'un téléphone insomniaque est irritant quand elle était sur le fond, et a lissé sa chemise en face du miroir, essayant d'apprivoiser les cheveux sauvages et balayés par le vent en même temps. Elle regardait et se sentait plus comme Stig of the Dump qu'Elizabeth Bennet, elle était sûre, pas que ce dernier était un meilleur modèle.
Elle a dit au roi peu de temps après qu'Alex ait ouvert la porte avec une entrée à haute intensité typique de l'équipe bleue, a réussi un silence, «hi» à la fille elle-même (et a fait sauter un baiser à Jess) avant de se faufiler devant eux. L'écart entre eux et la porte était petit, mais astrid était bien tournée en évitant le contact physique – elle est sortie sans bosse.
Il n'y avait aucun moyen qu'Aiden ne se soit point montré pour saluer son BFF perdu depuis trois ans, non? Elle a poussé ses lunettes de soleil jusqu'à enchevêtrer dans son mess de cheveux pour essayer d'obtenir un meilleur look de son environnement.
Aiden a appelé avec une petite vague. Il s'était penché oh-si-casuellement contre un arbre voisin, apparemment en l'attendant. En la voyant, il a fait quelques pas en avant pour la rencontrer à mi-chemin, sans se soucier de masquer le sourire sur son visage. Malgré les conversations vidéo fréquentes dans lesquelles ils se sont engagés, c'était encore comme si c'était une vie depuis qu'il l'a vue pour la dernière fois. J'étais sur le point de t'envoyer un texto.
Peut-être dans vingt ans (ou vingt minutes, cela dépendait de ce qu'elle ressentait), Astrid se sentirait embarrassée de dire qu'elle courait pour le câlin, mais hé! Camp Liberty a toujours été une situation pour une overdose d'excitation, et personne ne la jugerait pour elle. Sûrement. Elle s'est retrouvée sur le bout des orteils pour se froisser les bras autour du cou d'Aiden.
Je n'aurais pas vérifié. Tu es supposée être morte, après tout, elle a dit avec un sourire. Comment allez-vous? Et, ooh, beau bronzage, très californien.
Avec un chanfrein, Aiden enveloppa ses bras autour de la taille d'Astrid et la souleva. Elle était facilement sur un pied plus court que lui, et il savait d'expérience que les câlins pourraient être inconfortables sur les deux parties si la différence de hauteur était si drastique. Et hey, ça lui a donné l'occasion de se montrer un peu — il avait travaillé pour divers sports, après tout.
C'est gentil de savoir que je suis déjà en forme sur la côte ouest, puis, Aiden a répondu facilement, et je ne suis pas mort, merci de demander. Ne pas être mort se sent assez bien.
Astrid laissa sortir un cri de non-protestation, avec un murmure, Jésus-Christ, à la levée inattendue. Une dizaine de secondes plus tard, elle a repris conscience de la pensée et de la capacité d'enchaîner une phrase, et c'est allé aussi bien que prévu : "S-sooooo"... C'est clairement une tentative de tuer le second commandant de l'équipe Blue pour une victoire pourpre. Bien joué, Aiden, ça marche.
Vous voyez, Astrid. Contrairement à Blue Team, nous n'avons pas besoin de tuer les leaders pour gagner. Il brillait légèrement sur son front d'un sourire dérisoire. Est-ce que je t'ai tué? Honte, je comptais vraiment t'utiliser pour foutre en l'air l'équipe bleue de l'intérieur...
Vous pourriez aussi vous amuser avec Astrid, momentanément sérieux même avec le même ton de demi-jesting qu'avant, et cela a duré jusqu'à ce qu'elle secoue la tête. Vous venez de me faire flipper? Tu l'as vraiment fait. Quoi qu'il en soit, elle a souri, et a enroulé son bras autour du sien pour les faire marcher vers la salle principale, même s'il serait sûrement difficile de ne pas trébucher quand ses yeux étaient constamment dirigés vers le haut, son cœur était constamment distrait et son esprit tout s'affaiblit.
J'ai apporté moins de livres que l'an dernier parce que je ne suis donc pas en train de les emballer à nouveau. J'espérais qu'on pourrait juste... se détendre, au lieu de ça, parfois?
"Attendez, vous pouvez faire des choses en plus de lire?" Aiden demandé en fausse surprise, "Peut-être que vous devriez obtenir un Kindle ou un Nook ou quelque chose." Cette suggestion a été rencontré avec une légère grimace sur la partie Aiden. — Astrid était certainement plus que conscient de sa préférence pour un livre réel avec des pages. D'ailleurs, comment écrivaient-ils des notes sur un livre électronique? (C'est possible, oui il sait. Ce n'est pas pareil, d'accord?)
Mais votre souhait, mon commandement.Aiden lui a souri, Nous pouvons faire tout ce que vous voulez, tant qu'il ne sabote pas mon équipe, Az.
Un regard offensé était la seule offre qu'elle avait à la suggestion d'utiliser la technologie pour remplacer l'ambrosia qui était des pages à oreilles de chien et des découpes de papier et des épines pliées.
Aaaand, puis il a dû aller paraphraser comme Cary Elwes de la princesse Mariée, et cela a commencé tout un chanoine d'Aiden comme le Dread Pirate Roberts, et puis Astrid a trébuché sur une racine d'arbre qui sortait du sol.
Bien joué.
Je tiens sa jupe et je suis reconnaissante qu'elle n'ait pas vraiment touché le pont, a dit Astrid, "W-well, de toute façon. « Quoi qu'il en soit, cela pourrait être mon mot préféré ; je l'aurai écrit sur ma pierre tombale – de toute façon, une pause pour respirer dans le dérapage nerveux. Comment ça va? Il se passe quelque chose de nouveau? Nouvelle école, nouveau travail, nouvelle petite amie...
"Est roi astrique: sœur aimante, fille, ami. Il est mort d'être pris dans les bras. Quoi qu'il en soit, pourquoi regardes-tu ma pierre tombale? – Tu vas l'écrire dessus? – Aiden roula les yeux dans l'amusement, la renvoyant plus tôt à la mort de son câlin.
Et bien, tu sais que je vais à l'université en septembre, Aiden shruged, Mes parents voulaient que j'obtienne un travail, mais je suis ici à la place donc pas de nouveau travail... Et pas de petite amie, petit ami, amis avec des avantages ou quoi que ce soit entre les deux, à moins que tu compte l'occasionnel une nuit de stand. Pas vraiment à la recherche d'engagement puisque tout change tellement, tu sais?
C'est vrai. Astrid sourit trop facilement, et a fait de son mieux pour ne pas dégonfler comme un ballon d'hélium qui avait été soufflé en morceaux. Peut-être que c'était un peu excessif, mais c'était certainement comme si quelqu'un avait mis une aiguille dans son épaule et que tout l'air s'échappait, lentement. Elle a levé la main pour la couvrir de façon défensive.
Il y a eu une pause maladroite. Elle s'est forcée. Si je n'entends pas pour vous dans quelques mois, je suppose que votre cadavre est sur le sol d'une maison de fraternité, entourée de bouteilles de bière.
Quand vous dites aux gens de ma mort, assurez-vous de leur dire que c'était dans une maison de sororité. Reconnaître cela n'a fait qu'empirer les choses, après tout. La mort par des bouteilles de bière dans une maison de fraternité... Ce n'est pas comme ça que je veux qu'on me rappelle.
Astrid a serré leurs bras liés comme si tout était normal et a regardé vers le haut le ciel bleu clair au-dessus du Camp Liberty avant de se déplacer rapidement à partir. Faux-cheer était fourrée dans sa voix et son visage. Duh, je suis un tel emo. Parler de la mort, et de l'avenir, et de la mort et des trucs, ce n'est pas vraiment ce que tu veux commencer un été, non? Je veux dire, c'est ta dernière année – il faut que ça compte.
"Emo"? Vous ne connaissiez pas Jess pendant sa phase goth/emo, vous l'avez fait. Jess n'était jamais la personne la plus stable avec qui passer du temps, mais cette phase particulière était la pire. Soyez chanceux que vous ayez été épargné ce cauchemar. Quoi qu'il en soit, Aiden s'en est sorti, pas vraiment sûr comment répondre à la dernière année de commentaires du camp. C'était sa dernière année, et c'était une pensée effrayante. Après avoir assisté à ce camp année après année, penser à ne pas revenir semblait étrange et impossible.
Heureusement, leur arrivée dans la salle principale a fourni le changement de sujet parfait. Secouant tout sentiment non positif qu'il avait au sujet de sa dernière année, Aiden a dirigé un sourire aveuglant vers le bas à Astrid. L'été ne commence pas jusqu'à ce que nous parvenions à la chose d'introduction habituelle. Prêt à perdre contre l'équipe pourpre cette année, Astrid?
Il était trop brillant, mais Astrid a réussi un vrai sourire pour lui et a rencontré ses yeux. "Aiden, si l'équipe pourpre gagne, je vais honnêtement à Dieu brûler tout bleu que je possède. Ce qui est beaucoup.
Regina Spektor - Call Them Brothers || Radical Face - Ghost Towns || Amanda Palmer - In My Mind


“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
  
|Name|
Astrid Marie King
|Nickname|
Az and/or Azzy are both acceptable versions of her name. Because of her brother, she tends not to go by her surname (ever) if only to avoid confusion.
|Birth Date|
1st of December, 1999
|Age|
Seventeen
|Gender|
Female
|Sexuality|
Pansexual
|Sexually Active|
No
|Relationship Status|
Single And shy.
|Role|
Member of Team Blue
|Years At Camp|
Three – started when she was fourteen.
|Team Color|
❤ Blue ❤

  
  
|In Depth Appearance|
Standing at 5'1", Astrid is pretty damn small. Despite being naturally slim and dainty she has a face that's still carrying some extra baby-fat, giving her the appearance of someone three or four years younger than she actually is. A strong breeze might blow her over. Nevertheless, she is fairly attractive in a plain, girl next door sort of way. Her ghostly build and large blue eyes are the only features inherited from her mother, and while it's difficult to pin down exactly who she looks like more, family friends have commented in the past that she's the spitting image of her father.
Astrid's natural hair colour is a medium brown, darker than her brother's, but she dyes it to a gloomy shade of purple. Her face is marked by a scattering of small freckles along the bridge of her nose and running lopsidedly up her cheek. The only other distinguishing feature that might be counted is her nail art: she likes to paint her nails and put stickers with little flowers or happy faces or both on them.
Typically Astrid is a bit lazy in how she dresses, almost hipsterish in style. She wears a lot of winged eyeliner. Leather jackets with the sleeves rolled up and plain old shirts, usually in calm blues and greys. She's not one for bright colours. Occasionally Astrid will have the urge to dress more feminine, perhaps in a skirt, but there is always a sense of discomfort around her when her knees are showing.
Scars: Astrid has skinned knees almost constantly and a few scrapes down her legs from when she used to play with the neighborhood cats. One of these is slightly larger, and darker, than the rest that's not from an animal but rather surgery to correct a badly broken bone. Astrid has no tattoos or piercings.  
|Habits & Quirks|
♡ Eavesdropping – Astrid has a bad habit of stopping in her tracks to listen in to conversations that she's not welcome in.
♡ Stumbling – Over her words, that is. She tends not to be very eloquent, and gets flustered easily, which in turn makes it even harder to say what she wants to.
♡ Crying (in Anger) – It's a very real problem. When all those negative emotions threaten to swallow Astrid up, she can't really voice them, and the frustration leads to tears and vulnerability. She hates it.
♡ Journalling – Astrid writes a lot of things in code, or backwards, just for fun, but also out of an innate fear of someone reading it.
♡ Puzzles – The number of Sudoku and crossword puzzles Astrid has worked her way through on the trip to Camp Liberty itself is astounding. She's an addict for that sort of thing and absolutely will not stop until it's solved.
|Likes & Dislikes|

❤ Reading. Books in general. Astrid can get lost in anything from a trashy detective pot-boiler to great works of art.
❤ Well-used and well-loved items: thread-bare jumpers, oversized; scuffed shoes; books with dog-eared pages and doodles on them.
❤ Snail Mail – while Astrid isn't one to reject phoning people up, she does like to send her friends real letters, like penpals.
❤ Hiking through deep forests, pretending to get lost (or actually getting lost). It's like Narnia!
❤ General knowledge. She's a trivia whizkid, and what she lacks in talent she makes up for in memory for pointless facts.
❤ The Bohemian life – sipping coffee on a balcony in Paris, doodling phallic objects with smiley faces in a notebook.
❤ Extreme blanket forts inside which, once constructed, Astrid will quite happily bury herself in cushions and deafen herself with music.
💔 Open bodies of water. Astrid has a minor case of hydrophobia and thalassophobia and a sensible fear of drowning to death.
💔 The painfully long nights that insomnia brings her. Even midnight walks can't shake the emptiness of these times.
💔 Losing. The Kings are competitive, after all – they'll fight until the end.
💔 Speech Therapy. She doesn't need it; she swears she only stutters and stumbles half of the time.
💔 Doors that don't have locks. Astrid values her privacy highly.
💔 Being left out of social situations. For that reason she always forces herself to talk in groups, even if it's nerve-wracking.
💔 Silence. Dead silence. It's always worse when there's silence.

|Fears & Phobias|
☠ Drowning – in part because it's embarrassing to drown in front of people, and in part because she doesn't want to die.
☠ Wide Open Spaces – whenever it's empty of all life except her it's something to be scared of. Astrid is scared of being alone.
☠ Abandonment – a very real fear, perpetuated by pen pals who have stopped responding out of the blue.  
|Good Traits|
♡ Creative
♡ Precocious
♡ Competitive
♡ Optimistic
|Bad Traits|
♡ Anxious
♡ Scatterbrained
♡ Stubborn
♡ Introvert
|Personality|
"I'll make it, somehow."
Astrid isn't sure she believes the idealistic nonsense that she spews sometimes, but it definitely helps her get through the day. The idea that college is looming on the horizon – that she can one day go through that beautiful metamorphosis they show in the movies – is repeated like a mantra: that's the time when she can break out of her shell and party and speak to other people like she's a normal human being instead of some imposter. (She remembers a time when it was meant to be high school that did that for her, and before that, middle school.)
But, still, that lingering feeling of doubt remains, and it's enough for her to seek out other ways to fill her time than doing essays and studying – things like procrastinating, sleeping away the days, attending therapy sessions and longing for better days.
Astrid has always been someone who prefers indoors to outdoors, who would rather read a book than kick a soccer ball around, and she favours pursuits of the mind. Often when she retreats into herself, she returns to creating wide, wild fantasy worlds with characters who never feel alone. Those who receive letters from her regularly in the months that camp isn't on will know: there has never been a blank sheet of paper that Astrid has not doodled on.
Often and especially at camp, Astrid feels like she has something to prove. With her older brother being so successful, sociable (in a way that reminds a lot of people of Marmite), she is determined to match him stride for stride. Team Blue might have a lot of loud jackasses in it*, and some might think she would better belong in Grey or Green, but she strives to win and has a stubborn streak – a refusal to accept that her team might lose – a mile long.
|Place of Origin|
California
|Background|
The Golden Child? Astrid is a year younger than her only sibling, Richard King, and she never quite understood why the dynamic in their household was... problematic, to say the least; not until she was a teenager. She knows that her brother suffered – she used to curl up at the bottom of his bedroom door and lean her head against it whenever something went wrong – but whenever she spoke out about it, particularly to their father, it would be turned on her.
Her father is an author, he knows very well how words can hurt just as much as bruises.
So Astrid grew quiet. She lost her confidence. She clung to her brother in almost all situations, especially since high school wasn't treating her kindly. Guilt piled up and piled up from how many problems she was causing, one after another, and she knew that her inability to be independent was wearing on Richard slowly but surely.
Camp Liberty came at the right time. The summer previous that she'd spent while Richard had gone by himself (as Astrid was still sadly too young) was dire, but the following year she managed to go somewhere that threatened to take her introversion away and replace it with cheerful camp activities and the outside world. Astrid loved it – the people she met there, especially – and finds herself looking forward to the summer more than she does the entire school year.
|Extra|
Aaaaa, video games?



  


Dear Diary,
First of all, as always, I'm sorry for mis-objectifying you, by the way; I know you're not a diary and are instead a damn sexy, awesome, adult journal! A journal who's going to be left half-empty by the end of the year, I bet, so I can get another one for my fifteenth... or at Christmas. I'm glad mom bought me you, though – especially since I'm going away to summer camp. Maybe I can make it my 'Camp Liberty' memoirs? Maybe I can monetize it – imagine that!
Yeah – that's a good idea. A page for this person here, a page for another here; everyone gets a page! Sweet summer stereotypes, here we come!
A.K. 01/06/2014
xxx




Richard King – pg. 1, 2, 25, 68
Page 1 – A polaroid picture (selfie) of Astrid and King in a bedroom, smiling and hugging, is taped to this page up in the top left corner. 'Astrid, 14; King, 15' is inscribed on the back.
Page 2 – The entire content of this page can be summed up in one sentence: sketchy doodle of what is unmistakably Richard King wearing a Grease-style leather jacket and with a lizard tongue. In small cursive on the side is the title of the piece, 'Bro'.
Page 25 – There is lots of angry scribbling here, taking up at least half of the blank space. The ink of several different pens blends into one iridescent mess, but in between the lines two sentences are legible. One of which is, I wish my brother would leave, for his own sake. The other, situated at the very bottom of the page reads, I don't want him to go, though. That makes me a bad person.
Page 68 – It's time for real talk, journal. I love my brother to bits but I'm worried about him; so, so, so worried. This is his last year of camp, and all the pieces have fallen where he (and I) wanted them to: he's team leader, he was voted there after Casper's... democracy travesty of a leadership and Blue's gonna win, obviously...
But what if we don't? What if it crushes him, like the ending to Prometheus does to Charlize Theron? And, it might seem a little selfish of me to even consider thinking about myself, but what's Camp Liberty going to be like next year? This is the only time I get to spend with Richard when he's free, when he's himself, and... depending on how this summer goes, maybe it isn't worth coming back without him.

Casper Fawn – pg. 17, 30, 49
Page 17 – This page has been torn out, for the most part, leaving only half of the journal entry clinging on to the spiral spine of the notebook. What can be read on this bit is as follows: So there's this really cute guy in my team called Casper Fawn... A large scored out section. But Richie hates him.
Page 30 – So... Cas is now Team Leader, and has been for a few weeks now. And... I'm not sure how to feel about it. King is being bratty, which isn't really helping, but I understand his frustration entirely – he's my brother; we're so in sync we might as well be the Viking twins. Casper is my friend. I like him. I could talk to him for hours but he's just not leadership material. He doesn't have that pull, you know? And we're losing. A large smiley face that isn't so smiley takes up a great deal of space on the page. Astrid has also cut out and stuck on a picture of Bambi. I'm going to support Richie when he's trying to take over leadership. I just hope Casper doesn't hate me.
Page 49 – He hates me.

Alexandria Novak – pg. 29, 49
Page 29 – So, naturally, you tend to get very close to girls you sleep in the same room as. The only place I ever get this is at Camp Liberty. Curfew happens, lights out happens, but it doesn't stop people from talking. Last night I snuck over into Alex's bed and we spent the whole time talking about boys: who was the cutest, who would look cute together with who, who needed a haircut and so on. Crushes. I told her mine, evasively. It was nice.
Page 49 – Underneath Astrid's one-line summation of the 'Casper Fawn' situation, she has a line break drawn crudely and unevenly across the page. Underneath, there is a squished rant in small handwriting so as to not look so angry and glaring to the reader. It says: What is Alex's problem? I haven't done anything to her; I would never. Not in a million years. I just want to be friends. I just want friends. I just want my team to be together, and have fun, and have none of this. And everyone's blaming my brother when he did nothing wrong and I just can't cope with this team anymore; not when Alex is acting out because she's salty that Casper was dethroned and she knows all these things about me that nobody else does.
Her heart's not in it. Well, mine is.

Fox Bellamia – pg. 
Emilie Parker – pg. 
Alessandro Curzi – pg.



Aiden Phillips – pg. 1, 5, 17, 61
Page 1 – A polaroid picture of Astrid and Aiden talking around a campfire last year at Camp Liberty is taped to this page. The two in the picture don't seem to notice it being taken. On the back, it is signed, 'love Mal xxx bang that boy'. A post-it note is also stored inside the front cover of the notebook, with a checklist of books Astrid sent and received from Aiden over the year.
 Page 5 – The first mention of Aiden in the journal is in a mess of prose detailing Astrid's first day (ever) at Camp Liberty. It goes a little like this: I think my brother has a doppelganger, and his name is Aiden Phillips. He's a p. cool guy even though he calls Richie by all sorts of pet names, because he helped me carry my (stupidly heavy) suitcase in. "Books?" That's what he asked. I found a reader guys. There are dozens of us, dozens!
Page 17 – So I ran out of books today despite how many I brought with me (and I know, I know I brought a lot). Believe me, I've still been taking part in camp activities – it just gets really boring at night when I can't sleep... Anyway, so I wondered what to do about it, because I knew my bro hadn't brought any with him, and then I remembered: hey, what about Aiden Phillips? I found the Purple Cabins, then found him, and asked. God, I'm just a stutter. A stutter. Noun. A daisy petal is pressed in-between the pages at the end here, as if someone (Astrid) had been doing the whole, 'he loves me, he loves me not' spiel and saved the result. We set up a book swap. I even warned him that I write on books, and that's apparently okay, but I'm assuming if I don't bring them back on time he'll wreak unholy vengeance on me. Or something.

Page 61 – I just realised today. This year is my brother's last. This year is Aiden's last. Journal, it's not fair. There'll be nobody I care about left at Camp Liberty next summer, not at this rate. I'll miss his stupid rivalry with my brother; our book exchanges during the off-season; the teasing and the pining; all of it. I just hope that he doesn't forget about me.


Malcolm Okada – pg. 
Krista Hale – pg. 
Guy Lee – pg. 
Cassidy Bradbury – pg. 
Theodore Simmons – pg. 
Scout Keller – pg. 
Sunny Morris – pg. 



Jessica Rieger – pg. 15, 27, 40
Page 15 – The page is dated very early into Astrid's first year at Camp Liberty. Jessica Rieger's name is written at the very top, while the second half of the page is taken up by a drawing of an octopus coloured in with pink highlighter. Met someone made of fire today. She is beautiful. And loud. I love her voice – especially when she's arguing with someone else. I would have helped out 'cos I completely agreed with her but... my voice would have gotten drowned out. Anyway. We did a personality test. It went okay.
Page 27 – It makes me feel bad that I'm jealous of Jess. It's all down to how easy everything is for her. Why are we friends? More specifically, why does she want to speak to me? I'm trash. A trashcan is drawn here. I love her to bits, and I'd do anything she asked of me, because I know she's not as mean-spirited as people might think. I bet Jess is–a name is scratched out here–'s type.
Page 40 – Looking forward to seeing Jess again! Still not sure if I wanna be her or bang her. A list of things to pack for staying at Camp Liberty is written below this, almost as if the thought had trailed off absently while Astrid had been writing it.

Hana Park – pg. 
Holden Fields – pg. 



Atlantis Strang – pg. 30
 Page 30 – Everything Astrid has ever written about Atlantis is featured on one page, though it has a few post-it notes stuck to it of places to see 'gnarly waves' in her home state, should she ever want to see her death staring her in the face. So there's someone at the camp who's name is Atlantis,reads the first sentence, written in blue ink. Tis. Right. It takes about ten seconds until I can understand something she says, but dude, she's chillaxed. Oh my god, is she infecting my writing? She is. Send help. A drawing of a shark wearing a blonde wig and with a mermaid-scale tail (and boobs) takes up the entirety of the page.


The Skarsgård Twins – pg. 22, Appendix 1
Page 22 – I haven't written much on these two, the terrible twins of Camp Liberty, born on the sea in Viking longboats, but I think it's about time. I have one, crucially important thing to say about them: which one is which? Asking people's names once is a difficult thing for me, but I feel like I have to do it every time for them (even though I don't and just... roll with it.) A drawing of one of the twins is here. It's a passable cartoon likeness of them. It has been coloured in with green highlighter. They're on Team Green, and I know the team has a rivalry for Team Blue because everyone else does so I'm not surprised, and sometimes I can grab my tongue back from the cat that caught it in time to respond to their ribbing on the results of camp activities. At the very end of this entry, Astrid has a cut out from a leaflet on Futhark runes, and has scrawled at the top of it: ᚡᛁᚾᚾ and ᛖᚱᛁᚴ.
Appendix 1 – This is a small, folded up sheet of graph paper that apparently has a list of possible identifying features of Finn and Erik to test. Some of them have been scored out (obviously proven false) while others have yet to be investigated:
different sets of clothes –  MYTHBUSTED. I think they swap clothes.
dimples –       MYTHBUSTED. they both have dimples.
eye wrinkles when laughing –  MYTHBUSTED; I don't know where I was going with this.
voice –  MYTHBUSTED. These are not twins, these are clones.
personality –

Nicoletta Soriano – pg. 
Shawn Hunter – pg. 
Adielle Hart – pg. 
Caleb Brady – pg. 



Aisling Hawthorne – pg. 
Oliver Cash – pg. 
Serafina Gray – pg. 
Elijah Nelson – pg. 


Audrey Peterson – pg. 
Mathius Phoenix – pg. 
Sierra Jameson – pg. 
Madison Callaghan – pg.