<span style="font-family: 'Didact Gothic', 'sans-serif'"><a class="username" data-user-id="4238" data-username="sloane" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/4238/">sloane</a> <a class="username" data-user-id="8580" data-username="sycamoresyndicate" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/8580/">sycamoresyndicate</a> <br/>
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Miles arrived at the cabin last, carrying a duffle bag on each shoulder. It didn't look like anything spectacular, and it seemed like everyone else had already gotten there and set their things up. He had lagged behind to avoid the swarm of people trying to get to their luggage, and he also wanted to scan the place he'd be spending most of his time. If he could slink away in an hour to go explore the area around the camp--there had to be a million spots to take photos--he'd jump at the opportunity. Plus, now that it was in fact confirmed that they'd have time to go off on their own and 'decompress' it made things that much more bearable. As he entered the cabin, he didn't bother speaking to any of his new roommates, he just headed up the steps, noticing a blonde carrying (or struggling with) a large bag in the hall. <br/>
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Slipping by her, he went into what was obviously the boys room, given where she'd been heading. Miles set his things down on the unoccupied bed in the back, by the bathroom door, then sat on the bed himself, exhaling. One thing he did like about this place was the quiet, at least for right now. His house was always noisy from parties his parents would host, or business meetings his step father held, any excuse to create noise was a good one. Reaching over into the bag closest to him, he unzipped it and retrieved a smaller bag, pulling a camera out of that, draping the strap over his head so the camera could rest around his neck. It was the best camera on the market; Miles had done his research and told his mom he wasn't going on this stupid trip unless it was gotten for him. He honestly expected his step-father to object immediately, but here he was a week later.<br/>
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He held the camera with one hand, checking the roll of film inside and then slowly rising to his feet. Miles wasn't interested in mingling, so he left the bedroom and went further down the hall to the steps that led upwards, climbing them and pausing when he came across the hideaway. It was nice, cozy in a way, and the huge window at the end proved to be a great lookout spot. Moving closer, Miles could see other students walking around the grounds and hauling their luggage to their respective cabins. He could also see a few groups of people talking to the counselors in different areas. Further than that, he could see trees stretching over the horizon, mountains further back. The realization that they actually were in the middle of nowhere finally settling in his stomach.<br/>
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Initially he thought that he'd feel scared, or would at least miss his mother, but if anything it was weirdly freeing. If Miles came to like anyone here he might get his own golden parachute before this getaway was over, even if it wasn't the one his parents were hoping for. Turning around, he walked away from the window and back to the steps, heading down them slowly.<br/>
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</div>Downstairs, Nico was sitting on another one of the couches, not really doing anything in particular, just watching who came in with a nonchalant innocence. Trixie was in the same cabin as him, so he already counted that as a win. One familiar face was better than none. He also caught the blonde haired girl from earlier carrying her three huge bags, and almost offered to help, but didn't want to seem like he was trying to overstep. Once he was certain--by way of counting--that everyone had entered, he stood up and stretched, "I don't know about anyone else here, but I'm <i>starved</i>, so I'm heading over to the mess hall. Anyone care to join?" Nico walked over to the door, rolling his sleeves up, he would basically have all the time in the world to explore and study, but if he went too long without a proper meal he got a headache. Despite the meal he had that morning, his excitement burned through it quickly, fast metabolism be damned. Another thing he had wanted to figure out was if that counselor had said anything about a curfew. He was and wasn't listening to her at the same time, so he couldn't be certain. Either was he was hoping not, because what fun would that be?</span>