tap dancing on the highwire}}JENNA

[Oliver Flynn]

bright lights and funny clowns

Oliver sighed, eyes glancing methodically over the ceiling lying above him. Hands moved to finger the cotton tee shirt he was wearing before sighing out, moving to splay an arm across his face. One foot was propped against the floor, the other still on the sheets of his bed as he tried to pep himself up enough to actually move from his mattress to the door. It apparently hadn't been working though, since he was still lying on his comforter dreading the actual part of moving.

So he had been caught for not sleeping in his cabin, if only the counselors had really known what happened, he shuddered at the thought. And they apparently had decided to punish him by helping the nurse out for the day - not exactly high on his list of priorities of things to do, that's for sure. After all, what normal person would want to watch kids with bloody noses come in and complain, if he had it his way Ollie'd be running in the opposite direction. And fast.

Groaning, he finally managed to heave himself from the bed, hands moving to steady himself as he leaned against the bed frame, blinking slowly as if to clear his thoughts, yawning briefly. In Ollie's opinion, it was far to early to wake up, really, who got an injury at six in the morning? Maybe a stray sleepwalker, but he had a feeling the nurse could handle that one all on her own.

Still grumbling he managed to trek his way out of his cabin, shutting the door after him as sneakered feet made their way through the damp grass. Scrunching his nose up as he walked, he spied the cabin, about a hundred yards away and looming closer. He slowed, dragging his feet unnecessarily while debating if he should perhaps jump from a tree and break his wrist. At least that sounded more pleasant.

Though in retrospect, he'd still have to go to the nurses office, and then they'd make him help anyway. So really, there was no escape he could think of. Shuddering as he neared the aging wooden door, he steeled himself before fingers wrapped around the metal handle ad pulled, to be met with the blank collection of the interior of the waiting room.

Eyes peered carefully around, as if suspecting someone to jump out and scream boo. Finally stepping in, he shut the door behind him, walking across the wooden floors he noticed, with chagrin, the squeaking noise his shoes made from the dew. As slowly as humanly possible he finally made it to the small door of the nurses office, an expression of sheer depression was written on his face as he raised a hand and knocked.

And he was met with the woman who had given many a children nightmares. Okay, so not really - but she was pretty scary, and there was that whole camp myth that she cut kids fingers off and sold them on ebay. So this day didn't exactly get categorized in his top ten, to say the least. The nurse eyed him wearily before motioning him towards the room opposite, "If anyone comes in come get me, I'm reading my magazine and I don't want to be disturbed."

She watched him, as if she expected him to start rampaging around, but apparently he passed her judgment because she walked back into her office and closed the door roughly behind her. Well, this day was turning out to be just spectacular so far. Crossing the hall he moved to slouch against the door frame of the room she had indicated, inside was a shabby set up of what, he guessed, was supposed to be in a nurses office.

Sinking down so that he was sitting on the floor, he tapped out an unknown morse code against the floor, leaning his head back to rest against the wall as he closed his eyes out of sheer boredom. He half hoped a kid did come in with something, that way he'd at least have something to do.

[jenna sullivan.]

and does anyone notice,
& does anyone care?

"Aw shit," Jenna moaned as she attempted to pick herself up off the ground. Walking down the steep hill towards her cabin, she had tripped and fell, evidentially twisting her ankle.

She wrapped one hand around her thin ankle, using the other to grab onto a nearby tree to hoist herself up. "Ughh." She shook her hair out of her eyes, finally on her feet, her hurt leg suspended in the air.

She wiped her eyes, she hadn't been crying, no, but the pain had just made her eyes water. She sighed and leaned her weight against the tree, regaining herself. Once she had calmed a little, she carefully out some of her weight on her right foot, the hurt one. She winced, and took the weight off.

Rolling her shoulders back, she tried again, ignoring the pain, and started to hobble towards the nurse's station, with small luck. She stumbled a little, letting out a small cry of pain. It hurt that much. She looked up ahead, relieved that the nurses' office was only a few yards away.

She quickened her pace, and a few seconds later was laying on the ground. "Fuckkkk," She whined, grasping her ankle. She was quite the clumsy one. She managed to pick herself off the ground, and reached the door.

She didn't notice that her hair was a mess, or that she was covered in dirt. All she cared about was getting her goddamn ankle fixed. She didn't bother knocking, and pushed open the door, dragging herself inside.

As she stepped inside she almost stepped on a familiar person. "Oliver? What are you doing here?" She cocked her head and smiled a little. "More importantly, do you want to get hit by the door?" She snickered a little, studying him.

All to soon she felt pain in her ankle once more, and she limped over to a small couch in the corner. "Owww. My goddamn ankle."