“We’ve managed to translate some of the ancient tongue. ‘Baskin’ we know means ‘shrine’ and ‘Robbins’ means ‘gods’. The two most powerful deities were known as Chocolate and Vanilla, presumably gender paired, but we don’t know how. Their influence is seen in their offspring, which carry their names on these cards, which also indicated where their physical representations were to be placed. Possibly round-based statues, in these tub-shaped grooves.”

Wake the pledges up in the middle of the night. Claim to have no idea who any of them are. Offer them blankets, tea, ask if they have anyone who should be contacted about where they are. Every time they name a relative or friend, laugh, and beg them to be serious.

After drinking, quiz pledges on frat history/trivia. For each wrong answer, erase one of their childhood memories: the scent of chlorinated pools, a grandparent’s touch. Keep going ’til all they remember is pledging.

Here’s the thing. If some of the people you encountered today were decoy people– the equivalent of an anglerfish’s lure– you wouldn’t know.

You wouldn’t know because if you had triggered those lure-people, you’d be gone. And if you could recognize them for what they were, the species that uses those unsuccessful lures would have died out.

They watched you go by and you never noticed.

Keep looking at your phone.

What if our cult, pushing at the jellied walls of the world, eager to let in the Other from outside, was honestly trying to make things better? Huh?

What if the soft god we sacrifice to and summon was, like, a big bouquet of flowers? For everyone? Who doesn’t like flowers? Enormous flowers from beyond? With a pollen that inflicts blindness and madness? But, like… really pretty!

Scholars and adventurers, they see the robes and the knives and the chanting and they assume the worst every time.

The nurse comes in and says How are you doing today. The nurse comes in and says How are you both doing today? The nurse comes in and says Why are there so many nurses in here? The nurse comes in and jostles the other nurses and you’re dumped on the floor. The nurse comes in, and a foot finds your back, and glass cracks as a nurse is pushed into the window. A nurse comes in and nurses come in and the floor shakes. I’m better now! you cry, but nurses don’t believe you, more nurses as the floor sinks and then gives way for your health.

That romantic comedy moment where the cute person (falsely coded as “nerdy”) takes off their glasses but instead of getting hot, the rest of the world actually blurs out, matter separating, solids becoming vapors, the power of infatuation writ large by the power of removed glasses, the love story now between a person and the world they move through like smoke

all camp attendees expected to sign up for at least 1 daily

Popsicle Stick Summoning Circles: Catch an imp or boggin with glue, yarn and wood!

Mid-Lake Communing: a quick canoe ride out to shout questions into the water for the Something that stirs in the silt!

Cooking with Cauldrons: intro to pastas & potions (alt. days)

Hiking the Trail of Gems: last one to the top is tied to a tree until they can convince a wood ghast to free them either via a boon or riddle-solving!

An exorcist, but small and quiet, unpacks a teapot and sets a cylinder of loose tea on the table. There’s not a ghost in the world that won’t sit down & chat if things get cozy.

Let’s look in the ol’ gear bag:
* A quilted comforter made from sentimental t-shirts: high school musical production shirts, water park souvenir shirts, etc
* Some nice round river stones
* Skin creme in a screw top jar
* A book of occult knowledge with a knitted yarn book cozy cover with a cat on it

The counselors catching the kids staying up writing resumes instead of playing with flashlights and ouija boards.

A canoe full of hooded children rowing on a lake.

Writing letters home and throwing them in the fire while witch parents back home spread ashes across paper and see the letters from camp appear.

Every summer’s cohort summons /something/ from the lake… a different something each year, like a mascot… a hungry mascot.

okay, yes, technically you can wish everyone you don’t like to the bottom of the lake and it works out for awhile, seeing them down there through the clear water from the safety of your boat, rowing fueled by spite, but you keep it up, the lake gets displaced

you’ve got flooding down the town’s main, people’s basements going damp, and eventually the lake’s surface is dotted with feet sticking out and then where are you

still angry and the lake’s full