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Chatterbox: Pudding's Place
A Ski Lodge
You flop down onto your bed, exhausted from another long day of school. Is it really necessary for your teacher to assign you to write three essays this week? You have other stuff going on. Life. And you can’t afford to fail this class. Your academic success is hanging on a precipice, and one nudge will send it falling into an abyss so deep that it will never be found if it is lost.
The computer is open in front of you, the white, electronic pages of your word processor beckoning to you. You sit down at your desk.
And then you stand up again and go to the kitchen for a glass of water. You can’t work with a dry mouth. Then, once the water is drained, you grab an apple. It’s slightly withered, but you slice it and slowly eat. You glance over toward the counter where a digital clock squats, its red numbers blinking threateningly. 9:48. If your parents knew you were up this late on a school night, eating old apples, with three essays to write, they would go completely out of their minds.
But your parents aren’t here to boss you around at the moment, so who cares what they’d say? It’s not as if the essays were due tomorrow. At least, not all of them are. Just one.
The apple is gone, and you can no longer think of any stalling techniques. You are fighting a losing battle against yourself. It’s past ten at night, you have school tomorrow, and your teacher is expecting a nice, long essay from everyone’s favorite student.
You walk slowly back to your room and sit down at your desk. You type a few words, yawn, type a few more, open up a web browser, surf Wikipedia for a couple of minutes, yawn again. So far you have only twelve words.
You open up the CB. It’s late, you know, and no one will have posted a thing since you checked last, but maybe you can read an old ski lodge or two.
You click on Pudding’s Place, intending to look for Lake Lelilo or something, when a new thread catches your eye. A Ski Lodge, it says, in those red letters you know so well. You click on the link, and start to read.
“You flop down onto your bed, exhausted from another long day of school. Is it really necessary for your teacher to assign you to write three essays this week?”
What?
You keep reading, watching your own movements of that night laid before you in second person, right up to this very moment.
Good.
I’ve got your attention now.
My dear CBer,
You are having trouble at school. You have unwritten essays, and you don’t know what to write.
That’s okay.
We are offering you the chance of a lifetime, the chance to fix everything. Come to Camp Juniper, where you have the chance to be freed from the bonds of school. You will no longer have to study late into the night in order to pass a test. You will no longer have to struggle for hours on end in order to write a good essay. In short, we are giving you a Get Out of Jail Free card. And, if you choose not to accept this card, you will be given a free college scholarship.
There will be competitions throughout the days of camp. Each camper will have the chance to earn juniper branches. Anyone who is able to weave their branches into a wreath by the end of the camp session will earn this freedom.
Sounds nice?
We thought so.
All you have to do is fill out this form. And be prepared to die.
Name:
CBer, AE, CAPTCHA, or CAPTCHAE? (Note: CAPTCHAs, and CAPTCHAEs are not allowed):
Age:
Gender:
Companion(s) (up to 2 companions per person) (please fill out a sheet for them as well) (AEs only):
Appearance:
Personality in five words. (Any more or less and you will no longer have the privilege to eat popcorn):
Skills:
Quirks:
Brains or Brawn?:
Envy or Empathy?:
Reverie or Realism?:
Luggage, in order from most to least important:
Choose a number:
Choose a color:
Other:
We are excited to see you. And yes, we WILL see you.
Your obedient servants,
L. Reine & B. Ambrose
P.S. The popcorn is free, as well.
P.P.S. Please be prepared to participate fully, whatever this may mean.
P.P.P.S. Obviously, this is a ski lodge.
You read over the letter again. Is it worth it? You could die. . . but people always come back to life after a ski lodge. You could be a murderer. . . but who cares about that? It’s just a story. And how hard could it be to weave a few branches into a wreath?
Yes, you decide.
It’s definitely worth it.
And so, you fill out the form.
And then, you press submit.
submitted by Liberté and Basil, Camp Juniper
(October 31, 2020 - 8:09 pm)
(October 31, 2020 - 8:09 pm)
Day Thirteen — Evening
After staring at his detective work for a few moments, Pine looked up, and was surprised to see that the sky had changed from a slightly bluish slate grey into a kaleidoscope of dusky violets and rosy pinks. He had been working for longer than he had realized, and now the sun was setting, a huge flaming circle coming to rest at the edge of the horizon, just above the strange, magical library. It was nearly time for dinner.
Just as Pine was starting to pull himself up from his seated position, ready to move to the dining pavilion, a small girl dressed all in white poked him in the arm. “What in the world are you doing, Felix?” she hissed. “Everyone is gathering at the fire pit for my aunt to give her speech.”
“I’m Pine, actually,” Pine said. “Felix was my boyfriend. Past tense, because he was murdered recently, as you should know, since you are a counselor at the camp he died at.”
“Oops!” Snow giggled a little. “My bad. Time to go!”
Pine looked at the sky again. “Aren’t campfires typically held when it’s dark out? The sun is still setting, so we should have a little time.”
“What are you doing that’s so important?” Snow leaned over Pine’s arm to look at his papers, but he slammed the notebook stuff.
“Private things.”
Snow poked him again, harder this time. “Is that a diary? Did everyone get so tired of hearing you moan about your dead boyfriend that you had to start writing it down instead.”
“Sure, call it a diary if you want. Just go away.”
“I can’t. I’m here to bring you to the campfire to listen to Liberté’s speech, because she is very long winded, and if we start now, she’ll finish talking right at the perfect time to light a fire. Now come on or the murderer will get you in your sleep.”
“That’s not something to joke about,” Pine said, but he allowed himself to be dragged by Snow towards the firepit, where Liberté had already started to talk.
The camp director was standing on a stone platform in front of the fire pit, clutching a microphone close to her chest. The light of the setting sun cast orange light onto her white blond hair, and it almost looked as though she had been set on fire.
“As you know,” she said, “today is the thirteenth day at our beloved Camp Juniper. This camp is like a second home to me. I grew up racing through the meadows and trees every summer, and I know this place like the back of my hand. Already, in less than two weeks here, my beloved camp has changed drastically. Every building, every field, every blade of grass or drop of water or speck of dirt has been stained with the blood of the twelve young people who have died over the course of your visit.” Liberté stopped for a moment after that sentence, probably for dramatic effect. Pine was willing to bet that it had taken her a long time to come up with it.
“The number thirteen is often thought of as being unlucky,” she continued. “However, I cannot think of a single way in which our stay here at the beautiful Camp Juniper could be any more unlucky than it already is. So perhaps today is our lucky day. No one has died today, and perhaps this unlucky day will in fact be the end of our trials and tribulations. In a celebration of the lives of our fallen comrades, we will light this bonfire tonight, and tell ghost stories.”
“I would actually rather not listen to a single ghost story today,” Icarus murmured to Sterling and Sammy, who were standing at either side of him. “I’m already terrified enough of dying, and I don’t want to hear any other scary things for the rest of my life.”
“You won’t die, Icarus,” Sterling whispered back.
“I’d like to believe that,” her AE responded. “But I’m afraid I can’t. And I still don’t want to listen to ghost stories. And a bonfire…” he shuddered, remembering the fire that he had set earlier in the camp session. I never want to see a bonfire again.”
“Quiet, please!” Liberté shouted out, then looked at the sky, which had faded into a dark blue. “It’s time to light the fire.”
Snow leaped forward eagerly, holding a lighter and a box of matches. The entire camp seemed to shrink away from the little girl with the firemakers. She bent forward, close to the pile of kindling in the fire pit, and struck a match, throwing it into a little nest of paper, which exploded into flames. Quicker than seemed physically possible, there was an enormous bonfire devouring wood like a starving child.
“Now,” Liberté said. “Who would like to tell a story?”
No one raised their hands.
“Very well,” she said. “If no one wants to start, I can. I have a lovely story about a football player who murdered a chess champion because they were competitors for my hand and heart. I was too good for both of them, of course, but it’s always nice to know that you’re wanted. And it’s a truly delightful story to tell at parties. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, brilliant, and universally desired young woman…”
“Wait!” Sammy Everlast thrust her hand up into the air. “I have a story to tell.”
Liberté smiled. “Very well.”
Sammy stood up and stood, facing the camp. Liberté offered Sammy the microphone, but she shoved it away. “I can project. I don’t need your artificial shouting, and I don’t think you want to put my voice onto a microphone.” The fire behind Sammy cast ominous shadows over her body, and she glowered in a way that made the entire camp shiver.
“Camp Juniper was haunted. Not by a ghost, or any sort of fantasy creature that children look for beneath their beds, but by a person. They crept around the camp, murdering children. Drowning them, poisoning them, even hypnotising one person and forcing them to kill instead. The camp was terrifying. But there was a brave young woman with pastel hair, and she decided to take matters into her own hands. Another camper came up to her, asking her to gather information, because together, they would take down the killer. So the young woman did, and she stole notebooks from another camper who was trying to do detective work. She gave them to her partner, intending to return the notebooks soon. But then the owner of the notebooks was killed, and Sammy… the girl with pastel hair, I mean… started to wonder…” Sammy trailed off, realization dawning in her eyes. Something had been tugging at the side of her mind for a while, and now she understood what she had been doing.
“She realized that she had been helping the murderer.” Sammy turned slowly, searching in the crowd for a familiar face, the person who she knew had killed her AEs. “You,” she whispered.
“I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain
What a glorious feeling I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds so dark above,” the murderer responded, whispering a song, their face distorted by a terrifying smile. The sky opened up and rain cascaded down, putting out the bonfire in a single moment. A single flashlight pierced through the night, bright and deadly. The beam pierced through Sammy’s skull like a deadly laser and she collapsed.
“Sorry, Sammy,” the murderer whispered. “You were a good friend, but I liked you better when you were stupid.”
Icarus looked at the empty fire pit, which seemed to mock him, reminding him of what he had done. He looked at the dead body lying beside him, her empty eyes staring into his soul. And he screamed.
The crowd went wild.
(January 31, 2022 - 1:40 pm)
(January 31, 2022 - 3:27 pm)
oh! i didn't even remember that i was part of this until i saw pine's name lol
but you're back!! i'm so glad, this ski lodge is wonderful and i love reading about pine & felix again, you do a really lovely job portraying them <3
(January 31, 2022 - 7:32 pm)
Day Fourteen — Morning
As each day moved on, the temperature continued to drop. Camp Juniper, while it’s fancy temperature-regulating sweatshirts and weather simulations helped to show otherwise, was very close to absolute zero temperatures. The campers were not supposed to feel anything except liveable, comfortable body temperatures, but ever since day ten, the cold began to sink into the fleece of their sweatshirts. It had started at a nice, low 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Now, it was nearing high 30s, feeling like a day in late winter. Liberté tried to provide the campers with emergency blankets that retained body heat and extra sweatshirts to wear, but it wasn’t enough. Not only did she have to deal with the temperature problem, she also had to deal with all of the campers, Snow, breakfast, Sammy’s cremation, and any stupid little question a camper might have. Oh, and also, Basil was nowhere to be found. He had last been seen at the campfire the previous night, helping to direct the campers back to their cabins. He did not return to the counselors’ quarters last night and his bed had not been slept in. Liberté was losing her mind, and Snow wasn’t helping. It was 6AM, yet everyone was awake. Liberté just wanted to sleep. She told Palenia Piper to make breakfast for them all under the new, heated courtyard and locked herself and Snow in her bedroom for a needed break from the chaos of the last few days.
Once the campers had figured out how to stop complaining and that 40 degrees was not really that cold, they had made their way to the courtyard where Palenia Piper had prepared plenty of warm foods for the situation. Stacks of steaming hot pancakes were spread across plates, all different types. Chocolate, plain, blueberry, mixed berry, ketchup and mustard, chocolate chip, banana walnut, and so many more. There were packets of instant oatmeal too, for those who would rather. Palenia Piper had also come equipped with ten different syrups, fifteen bowls of toppings, and enough whipped cream to fill the volume of the courtyard. At least that’s what it seemed like.
Campers lined up at her cart and began to stack pancakes onto their disposable plates, building high stacks of sugar filled treats. It was a highly needed breakfast at the time, something to lift their moods. Nerd and Adrian sat huddled together on one bench while Nerd spoke in a hushed, serious tone. Adrian’s face went pale and they began to become more and more nervous with each word she spoke. When she was done talking, her hand reached to lightly touch their shoulder, but Adrian turned away, their face trying to stay strong. Beneath the shield, looking into the cracks of his façade, you could see the emotion that they were trying to hide from their CBer. Obviously, whatever Nerd had told him had not been a good thing. Pine and dreamii sat at another table and ate in silence, occasionally looking up and staring at each other quite intensely. No words were being swapped, but you could tell that they were having some sort of conversation as well. The remaining four, Sterling, Icarus, Ari, and Kitty Cat sat at another table talking happily with their mouths full. Seemingly, everyone was enjoying the stacks of pancakes and warm mugs of cider and cocoa and coffee and tea. It was quiet and there was less chaos than Liberté was complaining about. For a moment, it seemed normal, how Camp Juniper should’ve been. And maybe it could’ve been that way, if Camp Juniper hadn’t been doomed from the start.
What happened next was something that was very unlike all of the remaining campers. It was more of a reckless Alter Ego activity, but none of them were left. Instead, once Liberté had fallen asleep, Snow snuck out the door and to the courtyard, where, for once, she allowed herself to be the eight-year-old child she truly was. And what was that? You ask. Well, it was none other than the biggest food fight that Camp Juniper had ever seen. Of course, it was also the only food fight that had ever happened at Camp Juniper, but that’s beside the point.
Snow had gathered herself a plate of ammunition (which was pancakes and the stickiest toppings she could find) and leaped onto another table in the courtyard. She spilled syrup onto her clean, white, silk dress as she hurried onto the top of the table. Somehow, she didn’t notice, but then again Snow was not the direct relative of Liberté Reine. Only partly blood related. Maybe.
Anyways, she had two plates in her arms, one piled high with the worst type of pancake: ketchup and mustard. That plate had the toppings that would stain your clothes if you let it sit too long. In the other arm, she had the triple chocolate chip pancakes that drowned in syrups and whipped cream and toffee pudding. Snow knew how to start a food fight and she wasn’t afraid to do so. It was also really weird, the quiet was. She didn’t like it, so it had to be stopped. Ergo, food fight.
Now, you may be wondering why this food fight is taking so long to happen. Instead of happening, you learn about Snow and her desire to start a food fight. You want the fight to happen. You want to see pancakes flying across the courtyard and watch people scream in disgust as they’re coated with syrup and whipped cream and ketchup and blueberry sauce and so many other things. It just wouldn’t be fair to jump right into one, now would it? See, there is this thing called exposition and a lot of writers use it to build up the scene that is going to happen to increase suspense or whatever. And it just so happens it was trying to be used. And you ruined it. We might as well just move onto the food fi—
“ATTACKKKKKK!” Snow shouted from the top of her bench. She looked so tiny, so harmless, but she was in fact quite the opposite.
The campers looked up at Snow. They were extremely confused at what the child was doing on the table with pancakes in each arm, screaming at the top of her lungs. No one really knew what to say or do, so they sat there quietly, eyeing Snow for some sort of clue for what was going on. Unfortunately, Snow is really bad at explaining things and the campers who were left were not very reckless at all.
Snow, very upset at the reactions from the campers, sighed heavily and cleared her throat. “I said to attack. Why are none of you attacking?”
They all blinked at her, unmoving, unmotivated. Sterling shook her head disapprovingly, and, Icarus, who was staring at the floor, trying to get the images of last night’s murder out of his head, sneezed, which just amplified the silence.
“Fine, if none of you pathetic losers are going to attack, I might as well do it myself.” She took a moment for a dramatic pause before she shouted once again, “ATTACKKKKKK!”
Snow began to launch pancakes at the campers. One that was slathered in ketchup was thrown at Pine. A double chocolate pancake covered in enough whipped cream to no longer be considered a pancake went flying towards Nerd. Icarus and Sterling were doused in mustard and maple syrup, much to their dismay. Ari tried to hide from the flying discs of sugar, but unfortunately one blueberry pancake adorned with blueberry syrup and very stainable blueberry sauce hit her head and dripped off her face and onto her very new white shirt. She cried out in annoyance. The shirt was stained purple now, and everyone knew that it would no longer be white again. Adrian came out of the mess the least messy, since they knew how to hide from reckless children throwing objects, but they did leave with brown sugar syrup lathered in their hair like a soap. Kitty Cat and dreamii allowed the pancakes to rain down onto them, sacrificing their cleanliness to make it a two-sided food fight. They launched ketchup and blueberry pancakes at Snow and her clean, bright white linen dress enough for Snow to look like she had rolled around in a murder scene. A bit ironic, but oh well. The fight went on for a while, enough time for most of the campers to find themselves greatly annoyed at Snow. It did not slow until the pancakes were on a low supply, and it did not stop until Liberté had woken from her nap and walked into the courtyard disgusted.
“WHAT in the WORLD is going on here?” She questioned.
“It was Snow. I promise. We didn’t do anything.” Kitty Cat replied.
Liberté eyed her niece disapprovingly. She scoffed at the sight of her dress.
“Snow, get off the table this instant. I’m going to take you to get cleaned up and then you will help Palenia Piper clean up this mess.” She turned to the campers who had taken up residence behind an overturned bench. “You all, I am deeply sorry for the mess. Why don’t you all take this morning and get showered up and changed. We’ll go boating this afternoon. Meet us at the pond at one PM. Wear something you wouldn’t mind getting wet. Again, apologies for the mess.”
And that was the end of the conversation. Liberté walked away, dragging Snow by her elbow. The campers looked at each other and smiled. They put the bench back the right way and left the courtyard just like it was. Most of them were excited for the warm shower awaiting them and the boat racing later in the day. Nerd still looked paler than ever and shied away from the others. Adrian refused to look at their CBer, and everyone else could sense the tension between the two. They had no clue why they were that way, but they knew better than to ask.
Little did they know that one of them would be dead within the next five hours.
They also didn’t know that Snow had cut the guest showers hot water line, so they would all be showering in water just warm enough to not be ice, but way too cold for human comfort.
It was not fun. Not fun at all.
***
Dead: 13 (Hot Coco, Ydris "Masquerade" Dìomhaireachd, Felix, Inari, Summer, AutumnArtist, Nightfall, Aspen, Luna-Starr, Freak, Zachary, Braoin, and Sammy Everlast. May they rest in peace in the glory of Camp Juniper)
Alive: 9
Suspects: Kitty Cat, Sterling, ??? (please let us know if you ever have any!)
Enemies of Snow: Let's be truthful here: Snow pretty much hates the whole world.
Juniper Leader: Sterling (three juniper branches)
(February 28, 2022 - 3:47 pm)
(February 28, 2022 - 3:47 pm)
(March 1, 2022 - 10:38 am)
(March 8, 2022 - 12:47 pm)
(March 10, 2022 - 3:48 pm)
(April 26, 2022 - 4:03 pm)
(April 28, 2022 - 12:19 pm)
I applaud your persistance at keeping this going even though everyone participating seems to have left! I am not sure how you do it. I enjoy your writing style a lot, and while I don't enjoy murder stories/Ski Lodges I still read this for the unexpected humor and sarcasm which makes me laugh internally. Keep writing! I miss you both!
(April 29, 2022 - 8:15 pm)
Oh my goodness Peregrine, you don't know how much this comment means to us
(April 30, 2022 - 6:21 pm)
It appears our comment was cut off, so let's try this again.
Continuing from where it left off,
We've been working on this for almost a year and a half now, just because we want to get it finished. Finishing a ski lodge has always been on the top of our bucket lists, and it's so crazy that we're almost done. It's so wonderful to see that someone is actually reading our ski lodge! We do aim for the humor and sarcasm, trying to make the death more of a joke than serious, and it's amazing to see that someone has picked it up! Thank you so much for the kind words and the comment :) you literally made our days.
Also, thank you so much for our map art, I(Basil) still have a printed copy hanging on the bulletin board in my room. We will always remember your contribution :).
Definitely not sobbing from happiness,
Liberté and Basil
(May 1, 2022 - 10:08 am)
can I join? Well, we'll find out.
Name: Reuby Moonnight
CBer, AE, CAPTCHA, or CAPTCHAE? (Note: CAPTCHAs, and CAPTCHAEs are not allowed): Reuby Moonnight
Age: 18
Gender: female
Companion(s) (up to 2 companions per person) (please fill out a sheet for them as well) (AEs only):can my compainoin be a wolf? If not I'll do Gabi
Appearance:Long, wavy black hair, pale skin, one eye yellow the other fully black, wolf ears and a moon shaped birth mark on fore head
Personality in five words. (Any more or less and you will no longer have the privilege to eat popcorn):Sarcastic, snarky, cold, dark and calm.
Skills:art, parcore, hand to hand combat and running
Quirks:Explosion, I'm Katsuki Baku- no I'm just kidding. What do you mean? From what I gather, what you mean is what's different about them. Well, she can talk to ghosts.
Brains or Brawn?:Brains.
Envy or Empathy?:Envy
Reverie or Realism?:Realism
Luggage, in order from most to least important:Her weapons, clothing, art supplise, Nintendo Switch, computer and phone.
Choose a number:13
Choose a color:black
Other:she.....likes to star gaze?
Name:Gabi Malyon
CBer, AE, CAPTCHA, or CAPTCHAE? (Note: CAPTCHAs, and CAPTCHAEs are not allowed):N/A
Age:19
Gender:Female
Companion(s) (up to 2 companions per person) (please fill out a sheet for them as well) (AEs only):Reuby
Appearance:Black and red hair, tan skin, brow eyes and a small nose.
Personality in five words. (Any more or less and you will no longer have the privilege to eat popcorn):Strong, firey, bold, sarcastic and confident.
Skills:Hand to hand combat, sword fighting and jumpping.
Quirks:She can control fire
Brains or Brawn?:Brawn
Envy or Empathy?:empathy
Reverie or Realism?:realism
Luggage, in order from most to least important:Punching bag, food and clothes.
Choose a number:25
Choose a color:red
Other:She looks though, but once you get to know her, she is really kind.
(May 1, 2022 - 4:02 pm)
Wow. Well, making your day made mine! I had no idea the little comment would mean so much. It is crazy you are almost done. I'll be here to congratulate you upon your finish, and I'll be supporting you along the way.
I am honored the map I drew still has a place on your bulletin board. I had fun drawing it, and I still come across it when I flip through my drawing book. It definitely reminds me of both of you.
Also, I thought you would like to know your Ski Lodge is in twelth place for the longest thread in Pudding's Place (http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/puddingsplace?sort=desc&order=Node+comment%3A+Count)!
I look forward to the coming chapters of your Ski Lodge!
(May 3, 2022 - 10:58 am)