Scott: Today, camp seemed silent. The lush grass swayed softly in the wind, the sun blooming from the sky as it peered through several clouds, and the air was fresh and crisp with a tame scent of salt driving its way from the ocean. However, the silence did not remain for long, as a small voice could be heard rippling its way through the area. This voice was not simply mumbling or chatting; it was singing. The singing voice was quite loud, though also young-sounding, with a distinct accent that could only belong to someone from the Scottish highlands. That young voice was none other than Scott MacDiarmid. Scott, donned in his raggy brown jacket, with tan shorts that ended just at his kneecaps, and a clean white t-shirt, was marching his way around camp. He had his trusty bronze claymore strapped to his back, ready for any surprise attacks. Scott was just enjoying himself, not giving a care to anyone who might be rather annoyed by his traditional Scots tunes. "And the lass came tae me, brandin' my sword, as I swigged my whiskey, cries of the lord!" He continues to sing, rather loud and somewhat obnoxious.
Amy: Amy was sitting in the field of grass when she heard someone singing. What is that terrible noise Amy thought
Scott: Scott, finally finishing the old tune, decides to take a break to enjoy the beauty of the day and soak in his surroundings. 'He unsheaths his blade, as it gleams in the daylight, and firmly plants the tip of the blade a few inches into the ground. He leans on his sword, taking in a deep breath as he feels quite content with where he is. He simply can't believe he has been at Camp for this long, and despite his occasional problems with other campers, enjoys every moment of it. He notices a girl out in the grass field sitting down. In the mood for conversation, Scott decides to call out to her. "Hello there, lass. Fine day, ain't it?"
Amy: "Not bad" Amy yelled out to the boy
Scott: Deciding to approach her, Scott yanks his sword back out of the ground, rubs off some of the dirt that had soiled its tip, and sheathed it as he happily marched over to the girl. "The name's Scott. May I ask yours?" Scott's eyes are spiritful along with a friendly smirk.
Amy: "I'm Amy" she said while standing up
Scott: He smiles as his entire face seems to light up "Well, it's nice to meet you! I'm rather bored, to be quite honest. What're you up to, if you're good with tellin' me?"
Amy: "I was just sitting out here" Amy said
Scott: He takes the situation as an opportunity to hang out with a newfound friend "Well, that's great, we both have nothin' to do with our lives then, eh? Oi! How about we do somethin' that's a wee bit less drab than just waitin' around for somethin' to come to us."
Amy: "Sounds like a good idea" Amy said
Scott: "Great!" Scott quickly brightens up once again with a smile, but then ruffles his eyebrows and scratches his head in a mild state of confusion. "So... eh... do you have any ideas for fun or somethin'?" Scott looks around, wondering if maybe his words would trigger some sort of exciting event like on an unrealistic Saturday night sitcom.
Amy: "We could just walk around if you want" Amy said
Scott: He smirks at the idea and turns around, motioning her to follow him. "Sounds like a good idea to me, lass! Well, come on then, let's just wander around the camp and see if anything interesting comes up!"
Amy: Amy runs up to Scott and asks "What country are you from cause you don't sound American"
Scott: Scott, being a bit of a patriot for his country, quickly replies at the question to explain his dialect. "Well, you see lass, I come from the highlands of Scotland. It's pretty hard for me to try and sound a bit more like the locals around here, especially with all the rubbish slang and whatnot."