This is a good place. I like it.
Kyle swaggered along with the rest of the new arrivals, trying his best not to stare at the ass of the girl ahead of him. Who could blame him? She had a very fine ass. However, the light was killing him. Who is the greek god of the sun again?
Helios.
I don’t know the name, but he’s a real jackass. Could it kill him to dim the lights?
The real question is WOULD killing him dim the light? An excellent question. We should find out.
Kyle rolled his eyes. The inner dialogue was distracting as hell, he was clearly missing something. The tour-thingie with the surly girl was in front of Cabin 15. His cabin, if the map was to be trusted. There was a design, a rather morbid thing, a skull and spine. He didn’t recognize the skull, but figured it would look right at home on the Predator’s trophy wall. Glad to be away from the surly guide, he circled around the group and headed for the steps. Hey, you think I might have a sister?
Quite possible. Look at the population of some of these cabins.
He wanted out of the sunlight, desperately wanted out of this blasted sunlight. Was he so photosensitive because he was Morpheus’s son, or was it because of his Scottish side? Sunglasses and sunscreen. I hope there’s a store of some kind.
If you’d only man up and open your sissy eyes all the way, you’d notice that you missed the answer to your question. On your five, pink hair.
Kyle turned slowly and spotted her. She was surrounded by other campers, some flirting, some chatting… Pink hair, pink hair… very, very nice ass. Yowza! What do you think she is, some child of Aphrodite or other?
No… but that Game of Thrones show did mainstream what you’re considering. So I won’t stop you.
Kyle paused, frowning. I invented that joke… about… aw, shit.
“Hey,” he said aloud, slipping into the Scottish accent his mother had always had. “I’m Kyle McLeod, and apparently this is my cabin here. Anyone else live here?”