The Charlotties' Bunk

"Can you, for one second, not blow us up, Ethan? You've already short-circuited the lines once, and look what you did to my hair." The first twin was upset, and also somewhat fidgety as he continued to watch his brother, the one who was obsessed with explosives and other unsafe hobbies.

"Would you relax, Stephen?" The other twin paid no heed to the first, since he felt like it was no bid deal to experience a minor explosion every now and then. "Your hair looks fine. Now, quit complaining! I'm trying to replicate the miniature explosion that I saw another guy do."

A long, drawn out exhale could be heard coming from Stephen. Ever since they arrived at camp a few days ago, he has been in the cabin, nowhere to go, except the mess hall and the bathroom. Well, technically, he could leave the cabin and explore the camp. But, he wasn't acquainted with anyone. The twins had met a satyr, who had helped them escape their untimely demise, but that satyr was now off somewhere. Besides, they couldn't understand a word that the creature said anyway. Stephen fidgeted as another spark came from the device his brother was working on. This persuaded him to move away, and pace the length of the cabin.

Ethan was at work, busy on this new device that he was working on, and he cared not for however anxious his brother felt. He knew that he would be able to contain the explosion... should one suddenly occur. He knew he would be able to keep him safe... or, at least get them away from the blast before it actually becomes lethal.