Fandom Camp Half-Blood: Titan Quest IC

[Karcen]

Larua Eldrige
Location: forest
Mentions: qunqun
​

Laura was only getting more and more angry with every word that Auguste spoke, really just not helping someone because others demanded this or that what kind of bullshit was that? This was the kind of hero this place was raising? Someone that lacked even the most basic for of fucking common sense? Would he just leave someone to die because others didn't need help? he hadn't even tried to ask if she wanted or needed help so really he was just a fucking bystander the kind that would stand there and watch someone get fucking killed because their brain worked at the speed of frozen molasses or a dead snail. That however might be an insult to the examples speeds however if he needed shit fucking spelled out for him.

Laura's anger grew by the second until she thought she might burst from this day and all this bullshit, and then suddenly it drained. Everyone had limits on how much you could really be angry how much hate you could feel before something in you just stopped being able generate that rage. Laura had just hit hers and her rage drained, though not completely turned from wanting to shoot Auguste to just wanting this to be over.

Laura sighed " You know what fuck it yes, that was me asking for help" She said the annoyance not leaving her voice but a new tiredness was in it " Just pick up and take me to my cabin okay it will take me forever to get there myself and my sun screen is going to wear off soon I think " She continued not really asking but knowing that she couldn't exactly force Auguste to carry her like she had callie.

 

[Harrowhark]

click!

Jackson

Spawn of Persephone

location

Capture the flag!

outfit

interactions

Magus, Percy, Graham, and Roman wowee

tags

jinxxes qunqun The Elder

Insert bone joke here...

OOF

Getting hit was not the ideal start to the summer, but Magus always played hard to get. Luckily, his fall was cushioned by another camper.

“Percy! My hero.”

Forever grateful. Jackson wasn’t exactly interested in the game, but he approached with the group all the same.

“Come on baby, we can talk this out.”

Just because they were on different teams didn’t mean they had to fight.

“You can even take me as a prisoner of war if you want.”

Wait, why was that kind of…

When the vines came up from the ground, Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Hey, stems off my girl!”

Any other time, he would have loved seeing Magus all tied up. But this, this was war. Placing a hand on the roots, Jax caused the plant matter to recede back.

“You can thank me later.”

Wow, he must look so cool right now!

“Okay, fight continue!”

Equipping his gauntlets, courtesy of Julian, he got into a fighting stance. Normally, these were too flashy and annoying to use, but that’s what capture the flag was all about.

Initially, Jack did plan on punching the shit out of Roman, but the guy was invisible… or something. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it made him want to fight him even more. Appearing and disappearing… God, did these kids have to be so annoying?

“Dude, just come out here and get punched like a man.”

When the ground opened up though, his tune instantly changed.

“Sick!”

Woah… This shit would do so well on his cryptid hunting vlogs. As one came up to him, Jackson was far more interested in examining it.

“Dude, do you think I could- Woah!”

No time to make a bone joke, he was getting swung at.

“Imagine getting hit by a man with no muscles. Talk about an ego killer.”

Somehow, he was completely unaware that he also, technically, had no muscles.

“Gimme a hand, Maggie?”

To Jack’s delight, Magus blasted the skeleton, turning it into a pile of bones. Nice! Just as quickly, the damn thing rose up again.

“If this wasn’t so fucking cool…”

Damn it, no, he couldn’t lose this because of some rad dead guys. Even when the horn was sounded, it had never been about the game to him. Just as Jackson swung his fist, the bones crumbled again, this time for good.

Stumbling forward, Jackson fell to the ground again. Poor guy. Damn, he wanted more time to play with those things. Rolling onto his back, Jackson saw the empty pole.

“Oh shit, we won!”

He threw his arms up in victory, even if he hadn’t helped.

Brushing himself off, he jogged up to Magus again.

“Do I get a victory kiss?”

Only to be blasted once more.

“Yeah, they’re so into me.”

Stupid For You

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Harrowhark]

click!

Cyrus

Feat. Julian

location

Capture the flag

outfit

interactions

Julian

tags

jinxxes

Slacking off...

Shining beacon. So considerate how Cyrus worried over his safety. He wasn't the one with his ass knocked on the ground now was he? Julian knew enough to not get shishkabobbed.

"Doing a pretty shitty job then."

Completely flat toned. He was joking. A small spark of amusement laid in his eyes as Cyrus pushed at him. The Hephaestus camper let him struggle for a moment before finally getting up and yoinking Cyrus to his feet almost like scruffing a small kitten to move.

"Why bother with it?"

Immediately attempting to sway this situation in his favor of doing absolutely nothing.

"The effort just is not worth the reward."

Then again, Julian didn't care for most competitive sports games. At least, winning them. The violence could be appreciated.

"You get more out of constructive sparring with less..."

Letting himself trail off, straining to listen to the background cries of battle.

"All that."

Waved off in the air.

Julian continued to stare Cyrus down... And wiped a scuff off Cyrus' armor from their little fall, was a masterpiece of his. That was the only motivation for that, of course.

—--------------------------------------------

Shameless. How frustrating.

"That's not my fault. I was doing great before someone tackled his own teammate."

Pulled up from the ground, Cyrus dusted his pants off.

"And I can stand on my own."

Not complaining, only stating.

"What else am I supposed to do?"

They'd just gotten here today, giving up now would make for a dull summer.

"Sit in my bunk and stare at the wall?"

Half the time, Cyrus struggled with being stimulated enough at camp. When there was no homework, jobs, or intellectually challenging activities, he didn't know what else to put his mind to.

"So you'd rather just fight for nothing?"

Honestly, Julian's lack of enthusiasm for a game that let him fight other campers with no consequences felt suspicious. Cyrus figured he'd have a weekly list of people who pissed him off ready to go.

"Too loud for you, Price?"

Unlikely, neither of them were able to hear the commotion all that well.

"Or do you like being able to hear yourself trash talk?"

Cyrus glanced down as Julian touched him. Oh, just some stray dirt. Of course, it was normal to care for the things you made. The forge was a form of art to Julian, he'd want to keep that art looking as good as possible. So normal.

—--------------------------------------------

Ah, to be blinded by the light. Oh Cyrus, couldn't you see past your own shining ambition?

"I can fight anyone for nothing any time, Capture the Flag doesn't add anything for me."

Julian dismissed,

"Personal sparring has more benefits."

He could schedule a big match or a one on one, whatever it was he wanted to work on.

But... That was hardly the point of this.

"What I'd rather do, is something more interesting."

More blank staring at Cyrus.

"So?"

Letting the words hang in the air with suggestion... That Cyrus was something more interesting so he'd rather-

....

"Hang out with me instead."

Better worded.

Julian beckoned with his fingers,

"You take this too serious, relax a little. It's a summer camp."

—--------------------------------------------

“Why’d you even come out here if you weren’t going to play?”

There was no reasoning with Julian, Cyrus already knew that. Still, to take the effort of getting his armor on just to fuck around felt asinine.

With a sigh, Cyrus sheathed his sword. Clearly the blade would not be seeing the light of battle. Realistically, he was only slightly annoyed to have gotten ready for nothing. Julian wasn’t at all unpleasant to be around, even if he claimed otherwise.

Guard completely lowered, Cyrus enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his face for a moment before backing into the trees once more. He’d hate for someone to think they were still playing and try to spar.

“Taking monster killing camp too seriously?”

There were some people taking it even harder.

“Fine, entertain me, Forge Boy.”

—--------------------------------------------

"Wouldn't get dessert otherwise."

Lying. Jackson was out here, Matt was out here.... Cyrus was out here.

Yippeee! Plan worked!

A wolfish grin spread to Julian's lips as Cyrus, despite everything combative comment, still sheathed his sword to join him. Eyes lingered softly as he watched the light bathe him.

"I'm a bad influence on you, Sunshine."

Just something he wanted to point out for the fun of it. It was.... Gentle.

...

"Alright, so-"

That wasn't too much was it?

"I have something reeeal good for us to do-"

The animation in Julian's voice was tell enough this would not be serious. Or maybe, he was just diffusing the air from his own overthinking.

"Leeeet's: Chat."

.

Little shit.

"Have you gone in the bunks yet? Seen what Auguste is up to? He's amassing an army of crocheted birds. I might ask about putting one in Jackson's bed-"

—--------------------------------------------

Sunshine? That was a new one. Not entirely unwelcome, but Cyrus did raise an eyebrow for just a moment.

"I feel like you have ulterior motives."

Besides just slacking and being overall a 'bad influence.'

The way Julian spoke was more incriminating. Like when an interviewer was getting ready to twist his words in post production. From Julian though, it felt more unnatural.

Cyrus leaned against a tree, trying to look as composed as ever.

"Let's."

With Julian, this could go anywhere between most annoying birds and how to hypothetically win WWII without the atom bomb.

Today, it was gossip. Fair enough, new summer, new information.

"You think I keep tabs on my siblings?"

Of course, Cyrus would be the last to admit he had folders and journals on anyone particularly close to him, including all cabin mates. Filled with birthdays, hobbies, likes, dislikes, and other significant details, sometimes it was the only way to keep everyone straight in his mind.

"I may have. He's gotten better at them since last year."

Making them much quicker. Which didn't seem as amusing when you have to get through the cabin in the dark and their silhouettes looked so off-putting.

"Ask or steal?"

A fair accusation.

—--------------------------------------------

Why, when did Julian Price ever have an ulterior motive? ...Point taken. But there were no tricks up his sleeve here, perhaps his fondness obscured, but Julian thought he was otherwise straightforward. Just... Doing what he wanted. Which right now, was just spending time chatting with Cyrus.

The Hephaestus camper's gave a look though regarding keeping tabs on others. A shrug following and he tapped on his temple.

"I do."

Nothing physical like folders, an eidetic memory and love for patterns just came in handy for snooping.

"Ask."

Julian was quick to answer.

"With him? I'm not losing my arm for a prank."

Auguste had settled down a lot, growing a gentler demeanor the longer he spent his time here. Didn't need to be the one who made that break. It was out of self preservation more than a care for Auguste though, not worth risking when he could probably just obtain one by request. Fucker had so many.

"Jax will hate their beady eyes."

Maybe he'd play Annabelle with it and keep moving it around- that would be mean.... It would also be hilarious.

"Maybe I can get him in on it though and it would be real good."

It was mindless chatter, but Julian was enjoying it plenty.

"Maybe I can enchant it too..."

That part was more to himself as the idea crossed his mind. But-

"Speaking of enchantments- Anything in particular you need this year?"

Julian made things anyways, they just would get sent off to Cyrus, Matt, or Jackson. But every so often he was polite enough to ask for requests.

—--------------------------------------------

Of course Julian knew better, but sometimes, Cyrus couldn’t remember telling him these things. That wasn’t unusual.

“Good.”

He couldn’t handle anyone having a meltdown in his vicinity on the very first day.

“One less to stare into my soul at night.”

It would quickly be replaced, and Cyrus would be staring right back.

It seemed Julian still had evil motives, despite a better approach.

“Great…”

At least that was a couple cabins of buffer, but he wasn’t exactly sure it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

“I guess it wouldn’t be camp without a little chaos.”

Cyrus looked off into the woods, listening to the sounds of yelling and swords clashing. As hard as he tried, part of him didn’t belong here. So much of his life was orderly and busy. Camp was nothing like that. As much as he could find respite in it, he could never feel at ease.

Drifting his attention back to Julian.

“A new chest plate. This one doesn’t lay quite right anymore.”

He hadn’t grown at all over the summer, but things could easily change in the course of a year.

“Other than that, my shield has a few dents, but I think it’s fine.”

The forger could be the judge of that.

—--------------------------------------------

What? Didn't like the little birds either, Cyrus? Julian loved them... Solely because the people in his vicinity hated them though. So much fun to be had with them. And see, the Apollo camper was getting the right idea. Chaos was what made things interesting, what made things real.

Now- Onto another past time.

"Oh?"

A slight tilt of his head, plapping his hand in the middle of Cyrus' chest plate to feel for how it laid... Oh!

"Nice."

A small declaration of happiness for him.

"Yeah, I'll get a new one going as soon as possible."

Didn't need to damage the goods... Or rather, the lack of them.

Hand released, he then grabbed at the shield to inspect.

"This can be saved probably till the end of summer though"

Fine enough, but with Julian he often got bored and made things anyways. So who knew.

Outside those....

"......What kind of jewelry would you prefer wearing? Like a bracelet, necklace, ring....?"

Very important question. Julian had been stewing on an idea for a while and Cyrus was the muse. Of course he would get the first made, and Julian wanted to make sure it was something he would enjoy wearing.

—--------------------------------------------

Cyrus couldn’t help but look bewildered as Julian hit his chest plate. Of course, the Hephaestus kid had done stranger things, but this was surprising in a different way.

“Thanks?”

It was a strange thing to feel insecure about, but his face was red all the same.

“You’ll probably have to get new measurements.”

As for the shield.

“Yeah, okay.”

So he probably wouldn’t be getting a new one. That was another thing. He wouldn’t mind this being his last summer and allowing himself to disappear into thin air. For most people, he didn’t care if they worried for him or not. Julian though, Julian had him caught up. Telling him could wait though, no need to leave impending doom over the entirety of summer.

“Sure, sounds good.”

Jewelry? Okay, now Julian must’ve been plotting something more nefarious than birds. Lets see… Rings could break his hand in combat, and depending on how long a necklace was, it could lead to injury as well. Bracelets weren’t without their faults, but they were certainly better than the other options.

“Bracelet.”

Cyrus wouldn’t ask. He’d long since known that a plotting Julian wasn’t something he could read.

Another pause lingered between them. It always took Cyrus a little while to get back into the swing of things. Skills like talking to people casually weren’t natural for him. There was too much media training drilled into his brain.

“You graduated high school this year, right?”

Julian was a year long camper, but he remembered them talking about certain aspects of school before.

“Got college in mind?”

That was all that was on his mind lately, the creeping monster of his theoretical normal life.

—--------------------------------------------

Bracelet it was. A sagely nod without offering any more incite. Cyrus would just have to wait and find out.

...

"College?"

Julian crossed his arms at that, thinking.... Then a shrug.

"Maybe."

It was hard for Julian to consider that sort of thing. Looking ahead of himself just wasn't something he enjoyed doing. Got a little depressing.

"An engineering degree would be nice. But all that work to get in?"

Boo, lame, boring.

....

"You're going to Harvard, yeah?"

He didn't actually need to ask, of course remembering.

"Hm."

So passive sounding, but that was Julian noting it to see later. He'd Elle Woods that bitch up! Was he just complaining about the work? Yes. But Julian's priorities always got scrambled when Cyrus was involved.

—--------------------------------------------

What a shame. Julian was smart.

"I guess it's not a large priority for people like us."

He was great at the forge anyway. What would he need college for? Cyrus often forgot this part of life was all some of these campers knew.

"Yeah, I got early acceptance. My adviser told me I should get a head start this summer, but I..."

Wanted one last time at camp.

"Well, you know."

Cyrus just made a vague gesture. Again, if it weren't for Julian, he'd have no reason to turn it down, no one to say goodbye to.

"You know, its not that far from here. Four hours give or take."

It was a loose opening. Unlike Julian, Cyrus was always planning for the future. He had a five year plan, one that involved a business degree, and staying in a the world he knew.

"One hell of a commute."

It was a silly thought, to think that maybe he could make it work. One could dream.

When the horn blew, Cyrus had already forgotten that they should've been playing a game.

"Well, it was nice to catch up."

He couldn't catch the cordial version of himself before it came out...

"I mean, not that we have to stop now."

In an instant, his sword and shield were pinned to his pants, lost without a pair of cuffs to link. Two golden suns just above his belt.

—--------------------------------------------

The trailing off, the mention of how far. Julian was not blind, Cyrus was concerned about being able to see him.

"I always have the van and way too much time on my hands."

He didn't want to make a promise on a whim about attending the college too. That was a little much. But... He could at least give into the opening of seeing him.

Year rounding it, it would be nothing to make the drive every so often. The nerd in his natural habitat, that would be a sight.

"Come on."

Finger hooked momentarily in the top of Cyrus' chest piece and tugged him at the sound of the horn. It was time to get into the camp spirit or whatever- Julian did not care, there was just plenty more time still to chat and fuck around.

"I'm so looking forward to smores tonight-"

Just dragging the Apollo camper along.

The Well

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[The Elder]

Rough Start​

Roman stood there with his hand out waiting for his newly claimed half brother to take it. It was a simple and common gesture, something people do when meeting someone new. Not much can go wrong from that, unless someone rudely smacks it away and pulls you by your shirt. Now that, that would just be down right rude and a spit in someone's face. Luckily Roman wasn't quick to anger like a few other children within Camp Half-Blood. However, as Spencer smacks Roman's hand away, his eyes darkened as he took offense to it. He glared at Spencer as he pulled him in by his shirt. The very shirt Faith made for him. Roman listened as Spencer yelled out to him in outrage. His words weren't filled with anger or hate, but he understood that this was pain, and confusion. His darkened expression faded, as he started to sympathize for him.

Kill me? Cast away?


Roman thought on those words that stuck to him most. At first he was confused, but as time went on and as he processed it. Things were coming clear. It made sense of why he felt the presence of Tartarus just as he arrived. There's no telling what he been through, or even how long he's been down there.

How did he even survive?

As Spencer looked around, Roman made sure no one else got to close, and allowed him to have his space. Then the big question was asked. "It's..." For a moment, Roman paused. "It's 2023." He says looking Spencer into his eyes. "I can tell by the look on your face this is a lot, and unexpected. But I suggest we head to the cabin so you can whine down a bit and become a little more whelmed. And away from these nosy ass kids." He said looking around at all the other straggling campers who obviously around for the tea. "Whaddu say?" He asked this time keep his hand to himself, there's no need to try again for a second time.

Zenritch​

 

[Zenritch]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly Version

Levina woke up feeling excited. Today was the first day of summer, which meant that it would most likely be the day where she can showcase her talents and crush every one who stood in her way during Capture the Flag. She hurriedly got ready and finished her preparations for the highly anticipated event when something troubling caught the corner of her eye,

"That was weird... why's the sun already at that position this time of day... oh no. No no no no no!" Levina frantically looked for her phone, and gave it a zap of electricity to fully charge it, When it finally turned on, her face paled after she saw what time it was.

She immediately rushed out of her cabin, commanding the winds to fly towards the forest, but before she could get there, what she dreaded had already come to pass. Chiron announcing the winner of CTF felt like a dagger to Levina's back as she practically fell from the sky and crash landed at the Pegasi stables. She cursed, before apologizing for spooking the creatures.
"Why... why did I have to oversleep today of all days?" She groaned. Though in hindsight she practically set herself up for failure. Since she was the sole resident of the Zeus cabin for a few years now, she decided to make renovations by actually having a closed off room for herself that she even got soundproofed. With her father's track record with not being able to keep it in his pants, she knew that it was only a matter of time before she gets a half-sibling, so she planned ahead and ensured she'd be getting some much needed privacy. She was also too excited to get even a wink of sleep until the wee hours of the early morning but she was sure she set an alarm on her phone. Then again, an alarm wouldn't have helped if her phone's battery was drained because she went down the Youtube rabbit hole to stave off her boredom.

Fortunately, a couple of campers were kind enough to help her to the infirmary and she was lucky to discover that other than a few scrapes and bruises, she was otherwise fine. Levina was about to leave the infirmary to go sulk back in her cabin when she witnessed an unbelievable sight. Aurelian, the loudest, meanest, and probably one of the best fighters at Camp other than her was now apparently her half-brother.

To be honest, she had conflicted feelings about Aurelian sharing her cabin. She wasn't particularly close with him other when they get extra competitive and try outcompeting each other and he really isn't one to mince words. But on the other hand, it feels a bit reassuring having someone competent and dependable for a half-sibling.

“... What the fuck are you all staring at, assholes.” Aurelian growled... though to be fair, he would have seemed more threatening if he wasn't emptying his guts immediately after.

"Well, they were gawking at how you're supposedly my older half-brother now, Aurelian Jones, Son of Zeus." Levina said matter-of-factly. "When you're done relieving your bowels of its contents, come with me and I'll give you a tour of your new home." she continued in a more enthusiastic yet cocky tone.

Since there was another Zeus kid on the block, it only meant that Levina has to double her efforts so she could stand out and get the recognition she deserves. Still, a part of her hopes that she and Aurelian could eventually learn to co-exist since she's always wanted someone to call as her "sibling".

Levina woke up feeling excited. Today was the first day of summer, which meant that it would most likely be the day where she can showcase her talents and crush every one who stood in her way during Capture the Flag. She hurriedly got ready and finished her preparations for the highly anticipated event when something troubling caught the corner of her eye,

"That was weird... why's the sun already at that position this time of day... oh no. No no no no no!" Levina frantically looked for her phone, and gave it a zap of electricity to fully charge it, When it finally turned on, her face paled after she saw what time it was.

She immediately rushed out of her cabin, commanding the winds to fly towards the forest, but before she could get there, what she dreaded had already come to pass. Chiron announcing the winner of CTF felt like a dagger to Levina's back as she practically fell from the sky and crash landed at the Pegasi stables. She cursed, before apologizing for spooking the creatures.
"Why... why did I have to oversleep today of all days?" She groaned. Though in hindsight she practically set herself up for failure. Since she was the sole resident of the Zeus cabin for a few years now, she decided to make renovations by actually having a closed off room for herself that she even got soundproofed. With her father's track record with not being able to keep it in his pants, she knew that it was only a matter of time before she gets a half-sibling, so she planned ahead and ensured she'd be getting some much needed privacy. She was also too excited to get even a wink of sleep until the wee hours of the early morning but she was sure she set an alarm on her phone. Then again, an alarm wouldn't have helped if her phone's battery was drained because she went down the Youtube rabbit hole to stave off her boredom.

Fortunately, a couple of campers were kind enough to help her to the infirmary and she was lucky to discover that other than a few scrapes and bruises, she was otherwise fine. Levina was about to leave the infirmary to go sulk back in her cabin when she witnessed an unbelievable sight. Aurelian, the loudest, meanest, and probably one of the best fighters at Camp other than her was now apparently her half-brother.

To be honest, she had conflicted feelings about Aurelian sharing her cabin. She wasn't particularly close with him other when they get extra competitive and try outcompeting each other and he really isn't one to mince words. But on the other hand, it feels a bit reassuring having someone competent and dependable for a half-sibling.

“... What the fuck are you all staring at, assholes.” Aurelian growled... though to be fair, he would have seemed more threatening if he wasn't emptying his guts immediately after.

"Well, they were gawking at how you're supposedly my older half-brother now, Aurelian Jones, Son of Zeus." Levina said matter-of-factly. "When you're done relieving your bowels of its contents, come with me and I'll give you a tour of your new home." she continued in a more enthusiastic yet cocky tone.

Since there was another Zeus kid on the block, it only meant that Levina has to double her efforts so she could stand out and get the recognition she deserves. Still, a part of her hopes that she and Aurelian could eventually learn to co-exist since she's always wanted someone to call as her "sibling".

the electric princess

Levina

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

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  Mood

  
  
  
  

  Crestfallen > Surprised > Anxious

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

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  Zeus Cabin --> Camp Infirmary

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Mentions

  
  
  
  

  None

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

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  Aurelian Jones ( qunqun )

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[qunqun]

The Prodigy.

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Auguste

The Prodigy

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

almost home!

OUTFIT

Basically Pajamas

LOCATION

Cabins

MENTIONS

Laura, Ant

INTERACTS

Karcen @SolsticeArcanum

Eat Your Young — Hozier.

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Metamorphosis.

Continual cycling, never ending, the same things rise and fall and repeat

Aftermath.

Incredible first instinct upon demands of his help:

Say please.

That would be the demon Auguste, though. The intrusive rude thoughts that he didn't listen to… anymore. He didn't listen to them anymore.

He was also pretty sure Laura’s pride wouldn't be able to take any of his jokes.

So instead, he straightened his back out carefully to make sure he wouldn’t hit any branches and then promptly got someone else to carry her for him.

Dave, the Apollo kid standing around, was delighted to help the Hephaestus daughter.

Absolute delight spoke of pale face and cold sweats and clammy hands at Auguste’s looming soft spoken questions, threat and menace laced into every word:

“What are you doing” and “Are you doing something important” and “Could you do me a favor.”

In all honesty, he looked relieved that Auguste hadn’t asked him to bury a body.

That didn’t stop him from shaking a little while picking Laura up on Auguste’s behalf. “Aren’t you like… you. Couldn’t you have done it yourself.”

He was feeling slightly emboldened by not dying from Auguste’s general presence. Always a plus, considering the people he’d fought, as far as he knew, all ended up in the medbay pretty fucked up looking.

“No.” Just like that, the atmosphere plummeted once more.

And Auguste elaborated no further as the group of three walked back to the cabins now, Laura being let down in front of the Hephaestus Cabin. A small nod of thanks and Dave was released from his duty.

"... bye." And immediately the plague son started trying to escape from the entire deal.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[jinxxes]

JUSTICE.

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Percy

Justice

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Worried

OUTFIT

Under the Armor

LOCATION

Infirmary

MENTIONS

Graham, Jackson, Magus, Roman, Matteo, Aurelian, Levina, Ilya

INTERACTS

qunqun Zenritch

Ship in a Bottle — fin.

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Solar Soliloquy.

There is no fate more satisfying than Icarus' fall. For in that moment, you touched him. Warm and loving. Embraced, as wax clung to his form.

THE AFTERMATH.

Skeletal remains forming an army, Percy’s eyes took in the battlefield with hardened wisdom. He’d make a break through the line, call for the two now, Graham’s abilities a wonderful revelation, to use the plants to subdue the undead and make a beeline for the flag-

Jackson freed one of the enemies, hopefully not much of a problem seeing as this was still Magus. Disengage- “Keep them occupied!” Slamming through one with his shield, not even bothering to look at it coming back behind him. So long as he kept up momentum-

The sound of the horn.

Percy skidded to a halt, listening and…

“Haha!” Shield raised in the air in triumph, a Blue Team member had managed to break through and secure a win. The skeletons were released from control and the battlefield turned peaceful. Percy moved back to Matt, a little appreciative shoulder check for the treachery on his part. It may have been just to cure his boredom, but Percy would show his appreciation anyways.

And so… The day continued forth.

Percy liked to check up on the campers that ended up injured anyways, but he also heard one of the campers he was closer with ended up in there. Aurelian. Ending up knocked out certainly didn’t sound like a battle that Aurelian might be proud of, Percy would still meet to praise him for keeping the magician out of the way. The Athena camper made his way to the infirmary after putting away his weapons and armor. By the time of his arrival, it seemed Aurelian had quite the attention on him-

Oh!

Percy had missed the claiming itself, but whispers and comments about Zeus made everything clear. Of course that had been an assumption as wind and electricity coursed through the camper, but confirmation finally came… As he was throwing up. Brows knit together in concern, already figuring some of the weight Aurelian would be holding onto right now.

The red head squeezed his way in, giving a smile to Levina who had seemed to end up here for her own injuries, a coincidental meet for newfound siblings. The remarks were not so helpful though, a tense of his jaw as he got to Aurelian’s side. Hopefully they could smooth this over.

“Take it easy.” Clearly a toll had been taken on him during Capture the Flag, he shouldn’t push himself too much… Not that Percy was any better, Ilya had kept him knocked out before due to Percy trying to get on his feet at the earliest convenience before. This though… It seemed a little more than the impatience to get back up.

Percy could feel the tumultuous emotions going through the newly announced Zeus camper.

He had to make sure Aurelian was okay.

Grabbing some paper towels, Percy placed them beside Aurelian for him to clean himself up as he wanted. "Here." More on standby as the bubbling explosion inside him could incite more vomit. Just ready with any tools Aurelian might need- He mouthed 'water' to Ilya to get that settled beside him as well.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[qunqun]

TW: A depiction of a panic attack​

THE CHEF.

scroll

Aurelian

The Chef

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

Panicking

OUTFIT

Punk ass bitch

LOCATION

Med Tent

MENTIONS

Ilya, Levina, Percy

INTERACTS

Zenritch jinxxes

FICTION— AVENGED SEVENFOLD

scroll

The Tertiary Sin.

Boiling deep within, a bubbling heat of wrath. Venom seeping through bladed lexicon

Mask Off.

Aurelian was, at his core, not the type to dwell on his mistakes too much. At least, the ones he knew he couldn’t fix with hard work and determination. He’d been planning to spend this time enforced onto him trying to think about the ways he could improve.

He hated being weak, showing weakness. This was bad enough, losing, but he could grin and bear it.

Despite how resolute he was, that did not stop him from being in mild (moderate) levels of pain... and being incredibly annoyed by it

Levina was standing over him, he didn’t necessarily hear what she was saying to him, more reading her lips.

Aurelian Jones, son of Zeus.

He visibly stilled as the information crashed into him, face carefully drawn into complete neutrality as his knuckles slowly whitened in gripping his knees, bunching the cloth of the blanket draped over him.

They were shaking, eyes staring into nothing as they flickered back and forth as he tried to form words that wouldn’t come out. Half formed requests to just take a minute to let him process for fuck’s sake-

“When you're done relieving your bowels of its contents, come with me and I'll give you a tour of your new home”

He couldn’t breathe anymore. Everything was becoming blurry and words distorted and twisted, the walls were closing in. Everyone was staring at him.

Ilya seemed to be alerted to the very precarious situation and walked over “Hey, everyone stop crowding my patient. I need to check his concussion… in private.”

That one seemed a little bit more barbed and pointed as he wheeled the bed into a private room. Ilya did not touch him, but stood behind the door for 3 minutes while pretending like he wasn’t hearing Aurelian cry with muffled sobs so that the other room wouldn't hear, acting like he had been actually healing him.

To be honest, he was just grateful that Aurelian's anger issues didn't kick in.

Aurelian came back to himself with ragged breaths as he wiped his eyes from tears and slowly stood, seeing a small sink in the private room and washing his face free of blotchy red rimmed nonsense as his hands still shook.

Ilya came back out and looked between Levina, Percy, and the rest of his patients who had quietly gone back to mumbling amongst themselves, trying to make a decision on the fly about what would be the best outcome before immediately giving up.

He looked tired. Moreso than usual. There was a deep sigh.

“Try not to overwhelm him too much, but you can see him now. I have other patients to see to.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Karcen]

Larua Eldrige
Location: Hephestus cabin
Mentions: qunqun
​

Laura had expected augeste to just pick her up, she didn't even weigh 100lbs that was nothing to the magic infused freaks of this camp. Really she didn't know how strong they could get as some seemed to get stronger when in moments of need that a simple adrenaline rush couldn't explain. Well even if it wasn't by the one she had demanded give her a lift Laura was picked up and carried. Really she shoukd just grab one of corona's pointless machines and give it a real use like carrying her around. Saving the half bloods was stupid especially given deaths mostly happened far beyond the protection of the camp.

still the two boys did as she wanted and Laura was delivered to her cabin. Auguste pretty much turned right then and there to leave. Laura could let him go, but still she had made the demand and he had followed. " It likely means nothing to you but I'll remember this, next time I won't try to shoot you maybe " the closet she coukd get to thank you I owe a favor and kind of revealing she was the shooter from earlier.

 

[fraxiom]

Spoiler: mobile friendly text

The night was long and fitful. There was little else to say about it.

Morning broke earlier than Stig was expecting. Part of him, a part that remained suspended in a disbelief about the place he had somehow landed himself in, was still convinced that he was trapped in the centre of New York during a cold and bitter winter. As he woke, he idly allowed his mind to wander to more serene depths. In another world he had run away and ended up dead on the side of a road somewhere. Maybe he went to bed in a bin and never woke up. It would've suited him, an ending like that. At the very least, it would have matched up with the beginning nicely enough.

He wasn't dead, though. He was alive on a summer morning in America and only half of him was missing the sporadic rain showers of his home. Strange, he thought, to miss something that had been so inconvenient in his youth, but not at all unbelievable. Something was comforting about the rain. It consigned him to the indoors. It gave him an excuse to curl in the corner of a room, any room, and waste the day away without having to face the conditions outside. Without rain, he looked like a hermit. A socially inept idiot.

Capture the Flag made his fellow campers disperse, which made it safe enough for him to sneak out of the cabin and pilfer himself a pastry from the dining pavilion. It was a heist worthy of films, dipping and ducking and diving from view of the few who had decided against joining the raucous war games. He'd settled back in his cabin with a filled stomach, a mug of something warm, and one of his more dog-eared books. He knew it well enough to recite the lines in his head before his eyes had landed on him, and yet there remained the wistful idea that this time, he would understand it differently. He would read words written by somebody who had died years ago and they would somehow be enough to banish the terror, even if just for a little while. They would find him. They would look after him. They would tell him that everything was fine even if it wasn't.

When this (admittedly rather expectedly) didn't happen, he threw the collection of Yeats' poems into the corner of the room and balled his fists against his face, screwed his train of thought into a ball like a poorly-worded letter, and came to a decision.

He would go out. Capture the Flag had ended. It could be assumed that everyone had gotten all of that bloodlust out of their system. There would be so many people around that he would sink into the background. If he could do that, if he could just stand in a place where other people were standing, then he could begin to do other things. Look life in the eye and accept it, that kind of thing.

At once, there was a rising in Stig's heart. He soldiered through the fog, pushed himself to his feet and strode to the door to throw it open and welcome the sunny morning. He lingered there for a moment as though delaying a plunge into cold water, fearing the shock, then like a child with reckless abandon stepped out to feel the grass beneath his feet, to smell the air, to hear the shouting.

It wasn't that bad. It rarely was, when he thought about it. The routine was what bothered him, the warning words from the depths of his mind that tried day after to day to condemn him to a room that would more or less protect him. When he was in, the water wasn't so bad. He saw people milling about. He heard conversations, imagined what he would say if he was on the other side, and then started to walk.

He didn't know where he was walking until a door opened and he was stopped, rather abruptly, by the body he'd collided into. Stig stumbled back and looked up, then up again to see the skyscraper of a man he'd unfortunately walked straight into the path of. "Sorry," he sputtered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I didn't see you. I mean, I don't know how I didn't... I mean, sorry." He swallowed down a lump, then another, then stepped back to get a good look at the man who was a foot taller than him. "You, uh... Look like you were leaving there in a bit of a hurry."

owen 'stig' dury

mood

rattled

outfit

dark green hoodie, black cargos

location

outside hephaestus cabin

tags

auguste qunqun

parent

ares

The night was long and fitful. There was little else to say about it.

Morning broke earlier than Stig was expecting. Part of him, a part that remained suspended in a disbelief about the place he had somehow landed himself in, was still convinced that he was trapped in the centre of New York during a cold and bitter winter. As he woke, he idly allowed his mind to wander to more serene depths. In another world he had run away and ended up dead on the side of a road somewhere. Maybe he went to bed in a bin and never woke up. It would've suited him, an ending like that. At the very least, it would have matched up with the beginning nicely enough.

He wasn't dead, though. He was alive on a summer morning in America and only half of him was missing the sporadic rain showers of his home. Strange, he thought, to miss something that had been so inconvenient in his youth, but not at all unbelievable. Something was comforting about the rain. It consigned him to the indoors. It gave him an excuse to curl in the corner of a room, any room, and waste the day away without having to face the conditions outside. Without rain, he looked like a hermit. A socially inept idiot.

Capture the Flag made his fellow campers disperse, which made it safe enough for him to sneak out of the cabin and pilfer himself a pastry from the dining pavilion. It was a heist worthy of films, dipping and ducking and diving from view of the few who had decided against joining the raucous war games. He'd settled back in his cabin with a filled stomach, a mug of something warm, and one of his more dog-eared books. He knew it well enough to recite the lines in his head before his eyes had landed on him, and yet there remained the wistful idea that this time, he would understand it differently. He would read words written by somebody who had died years ago and they would somehow be enough to banish the terror, even if just for a little while. They would find him. They would look after him. They would tell him that everything was fine even if it wasn't.

When this (admittedly rather expectedly) didn't happen, he threw the collection of Yeats' poems into the corner of the room and balled his fists against his face, screwed his train of thought into a ball like a poorly-worded letter, and came to a decision.

He would go out. Capture the Flag had ended. It could be assumed that everyone had gotten all of that bloodlust out of their system. There would be so many people around that he would sink into the background. If he could do that, if he could just stand in a place where other people were standing, then he could begin to do other things. Look life in the eye and accept it, that kind of thing.

At once, there was a rising in Stig's heart. He soldiered through the fog, pushed himself to his feet and strode to the door to throw it open and welcome the sunny morning. He lingered there for a moment as though delaying a plunge into cold water, fearing the shock, then like a child with reckless abandon stepped out to feel the grass beneath his feet, to smell the air, to hear the shouting.

It wasn't that bad. It rarely was, when he thought about it. The routine was what bothered him, the warning words from the depths of his mind that tried day after to day to condemn him to a room that would more or less protect him. When he was in, the water wasn't so bad. He saw people milling about. He heard conversations, imagined what he would say if he was on the other side, and then started to walk.

He didn't know where he was walking until a door opened and he was stopped, rather abruptly, by the body he'd collided into. Stig stumbled back and looked up, then up again to see the skyscraper of a man he'd unfortunately walked straight into the path of. "Sorry," he sputtered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I didn't see you. I mean, I don't know how I didn't... I mean, sorry." He swallowed down a lump, then another, then stepped back to get a good look at the man who was a foot taller than him. "You, uh... Look like you were leaving there in a bit of a hurry."

coded by reveriee.

 

[Zombie.]

MOOD: Proud

OUTFIT: Self-customised armour

LOCATION: Forest --> Camp

basics

MENTIONS:
Estella

INT:
Estella

tags

TL;DR Walking back to camp with Stella after the game and telling each other what they got up to. They also talk about wanting to choose outfits for the singalong.

tl;dr

seraphine

you're gonna be the best-dressed warrior in town, beauty queen.

The conclusion of the game brought with it a surge of satisfaction for Seraphine—not entirely as a result of her team winning, but rather the validation of her earlier retort to Beth Greene. “Oh, and Beth? Try looking up ‘Aphrodite Areia’. It’ll help when you lose to me and my ‘whore’ mom.” She recalled herself coming out with at the height of the confrontation, her point referencing the fact that her mother isn’t only a woman with a pretty face. Despite the way Seraphine looked and her aptitude at making quick-fire comebacks, she wasn’t usually that catty of a person, nor was she the type to make an enemy out of someone without good reason. Regardless, whenever trouble did come knocking, she wasn’t one to just sit back and take it.

Betting on victory as boldly as she did without full certainty in the outcome of the game could’ve backfired easily, but fortunately it seemed like Tyche had mistaken Seraphine for her daughter and now Beth would be avoiding her for the next month out of embarrassment. It was a shame she didn’t get to run into her during capture the flag to finally put an end to whatever unprecedented hostility the girl clearly had for her, but Seraphine was still satisfied with how the game went nonetheless. Just as she was starting to head back to camp from the forest, she heard a familiar voice call her name as a warm pair of arms wrapped around her.

“Hey sis!” she greeted, reciprocating the embrace as she hugged the shorter girl back.

As her younger sister recounted what she’d managed to pull off during the game, Seraphine listened attentively with a growing smile of approval on her lips. She couldn’t help but see herself when she was sixteen in Estella, and despite only sharing one parent Seraphine had already started considering her a full sister somewhere along the line—a privileged connection not all of the half-bloods were lucky enough to have.

"Look at youu! Mom would be proud. And catching Toby at the singalong? Smooth." Seraphine remarked in favour of both her sister’s accomplishments and plans. Music always reminded her of love in all its forms, not only because her father was a musician but because it was his music alone that initially drew in the Goddess of Love just over eighteen years ago—the setting would be perfect.

“For sure!" she responded enthusiastically after Stella mentioned needing outfit advice for the upcoming get-together. Fashion was one of her expertise and it pleased Seraphine that her sister knew to come to her. Strangely enough, she realised that she herself didn’t know what she’d be wearing yet. Usually she’d have planned her entire outfit out by now, maybe even weeks in advance for some occasions, but she’d been so distracted with customising armour in time for the game that it had somehow completely slipped her mind. Seraphine was sure there’d be a lot of new faces at the singalong and always wanted to leave good first impressions—not that leaving a memorable impression was ever that difficult for her.

Seraphine either hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind that she hadn’t been able to get much of a word in up until that point in the conversation. Sistering had honestly momentarily made her forget she’d just been engaged in combat for the last few hours, and when the girl’s question reminded her of that fact, her eyes twinkled with a look reserved only for things she found most thrilling. “Oh, you know.." she began, initially trying to pretend that things hadn’t gone too well while simultaneously struggling to hide the smirk on her glossy pink lips. Soon enough she found herself detailing the events of the game to her sister, barely missing out any details as the two of them took a slow walk back into camp together.

For Seraphine, the game began before it had even started. Using divine empathy, an ability that other half-bloods liked to overlook for seeming near-useless in combat, she made a point of identifying as many of red team’s vulnerabilities as she could before the ceremonial horn had even blown. With keen green eyes, after sussing out the most anxious and unprepared players, she gathered those who happened to be near in proximity at the time and suggested they assemble a small strike team comprising of two of her half-sisters, an offspring of Demeter and a son of Apollo.

After they agreed to a plan, together they began strategically taking the vulnerable players out of the game, with Seraphine’s daggers getting a respectable amount of (non-fatal) action compared to three years ago when she couldn’t fight for the life of her. Oh how flirting with Ares boys had its uses. A handful of them jumped at the chance to train a damsel in distress, not realising that said damsel would go on to be capable of crushing them at capture the flag.

When those that were notably weaker were out of the game and it was time to start targeting red team’s regular players, the other two Aphrodite girls instead took to the approach of using charmspeak to distract any targets they stumbled upon for a moment while Seraphine and the person from Cabin 4 charged in with the son of Apollo for an ambush attack. Though she didn’t get the chance to meet Beth on the battlefield like she’d hoped to or fight alongside Callie and Isaac, that little group of five did their part on the sidelines to keep blue team at a consistent advantage.

She paused for a moment as the story reached its end, conveniently right as they finally got back to camp. "Anyways.. Now for what’s really important.” she said, comically ready to forget about the game entirely. “Have any ideas of what you wanna wear or are we starting from ground zero?"

code by valen t.

 

[Talathel]

Celaena Saria

Daughter of Hades - Camper

Mood:

Annoyed and Tired

Location:

Camp Half-Blood: Hades Cabin / Woods

Outfit:

click me!

Tags:

Roman The Elder
Spencer Zenritch

Celaena stood up slowly, her eyes narrowing at the door to her father's cabin. Her muscles tensed, and her eyes flashed dangerously as she rested a hand on Sariel's head protectively. Her eyes softened at the lick Sariel gave her hand before she turned on her heel, clipping the hair clip back into place against her ebony strands. With the game done, her sword wouldn't be needed right at the moment, and it was best to have it back in the hair clip form.

Cel dug through her trunk that rested at the foot of her bed, her eyes studying her clothing options as she refused to wear her armor for much longer. Besides, it was best to find clean clothes due to her injuries anyway. The daughter of Hades carefully lifted out the leggings, the dark emerald a deep contrast against her icy blue orbs. A form-fitting short-sleeved tan shirt with floral patterns encased her upper body. Her eyes met the red ones of Sariel as the duo exchanged a slight nod. Her black boots clicked across the floor as the girl poked her head out of her door, piercing gaze scanning the camp before she gave a soft nod. "Let's go Sariel." The coast was clear, and neither her brother nor the newcomer that her father had decided to claim had shown their faces in their cabin, so she figured the next place would be her home away from home. The hidden cabin in the forest that she used to live in.

The uncanny duo slowly made their way across the camp, sticking to the shadows and edges before Celaena picked up her pace. Her eyes gleamed with an excited aura. The mercury-dipped orbs seemed to dance as she and the hellhound vanished into the forest's darkness. Once out of sight, the duo picked up pace until Cel was trotting alongside Sariel. Her gait was slightly off due to the wound on her hip. A small cabin stood in the middle of a clearing. The wooden boards were made of dark rowan, and Celaena slowly eased the door open.

Oak steps led up to a deck that wrapped around the perimeter of the cabin. Cel entered the cabin, and a smile escaped her lips as Sariel padded to the fireplace and flopped down, a huff leaving her muzzle as she rested her head on her paws. A small table sat beside a delicate window, and stairs led up to the cabin's second floor and loft. A bed rested against a corner with ebony sheets and ebony silk curtains hung over the windows. A small desk rested against the wall, and a soft fountain with three waterfalls bubbled on top.

Celaena quickly started the fire, her hands working quickly as she lit and fanned the flames. The fire shed a warm amber glow over the wooden scenery. The girl flopped down on a couch, her feet propped up on the couch as she rested her eyes. Her hip and shoulder ached in tandem with her beating heart as she gave in to the soft, soothing sounds of nature around her. Her accented voice gently began to hum, and soon, words formed, and her soft tune carried eerily through the hallways of her hidden home. "It's starting to make its way around. That rumor mill is spinning round. That I'm leaving town, can't slow it down." Sariel began to howl softly in tune with her mistress, the rise and fall of the two voices - one animal and one eerie and haunting.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[Karcen]

Larua Eldrige
Location: Hephestus cabin
Mentions:
​

Laura didn't really wait for acknowledgment towards her uncharacteristic show of kindness towards a half blood and quickly retreated into the cabin. That was more than enough outside time for a good long while for Laura.

Not caring if others were here Laura headed for her bed which she had removed the mattress from bunk and simply left the way into the private area many had exposed. It wasn't like she slept up here anyways. Heading down Laura came to the door to her room made of solid bronze and etched with faintly glowing runes that distorted reality behind it.

Inside the room was rather spacious our would have been if not for all the junk that was strewn here and there. Gears, metal scraps, electronics, and clothes mixed with countless random bits and bobs that took up space on the floor and over stuffed shelves. The walls were a rather simple matte black as Laura had never cared enough to add wallpaper or designs to the naturally black walls.

Given power didn't run through the none existent walls into this place it was dark lit only by the glow of the computers monitor and the copious about of rgb lights such things were required to have. The desk where the computer was set up was surprisingly simple for her, just metal and wood. It was one of the few cleaning places in the room, beside it was a rather large mini fridge. Unlike the others Laura had decided to to take part in the meals and sacrafices to the gods. The fridge could endlessly replicate whatever was put in it. This explained the seemingly countless wrappers and bags that littered the floor. The few other clean places were a dresser with an aquarium filled with a few inches of dirt in it. The other spot was not really clean but at least it wasn't covered in junk and that was the bed where the inhabitant if the tank was laying nestled in one of Laura's discarded shirts.

" Well at least one of use had a good day " Laura sighed to the giant centipede who somehow exuded the aura of comfort like one might get from a sleeping puppy. Which made sense given that his mind was closer to a dog's now, not that centipedes has much in terms of minds. In response legs moved his head to look at Laura. Though with his eyes this wasn't needed, before going back to laying down fully.

Laura sighed and diced to do what she had wanted to before that stupid game. Laura pulled out the cigarette box sized cube the door frame had collapsed into and touched it just right to cause the bronze cube to come apart into a full door frame. It didn't need an actual door as Laura wasn't making a full room just expanding the space. This was more like a pillar bearing the load of unreality that pressed on the walls of this almost pocket dimension. Installing it was simple enough, Laura just placed the frame on a clean patch of wall. Then the magic took effect and the black walls distorted the frame sinking into it. The fight between what was, what wasn't, abd what was to be could almost be heard as the wall started to pull back. It was almost like a flat balloon being blown into as the room grew from the frame.

When at last the room was finished Laura picked up another cube the size of a rubiks cube and walked into the new space. Inside it was dark, yet there was a faint glow like sparkles in a nonexistent color. The unlight in the space that didn't exist would fade as thos new space fully became soild and real. This room was smaller than the main room but still had plenty of space. Laura walked towards the far wall and set the cube diwn pressing a specific spot and then stepped back. The cube unfolded and grew becoming something far to big to have ever been contained in its previous dimensions. It was a pocket forge. This was another thing Laura had made and was closer to a full workshop. Forge, smelter, anvil, tools, workbench, and other things needed to create. With this Laura woukd only need raw reasources to make whatever she wanted and right now in her room she had plenty.

Laura walked up to the workshop as the warm glow of the firge heating up started to fill the place. Laura would need to make an ac latter to deal with the extra heat. Right now however she wanted to wirk on sonething else, and pulled out hell's scream. She set it on one of the benches near an ammo press. The gun had been lacking and if it had worked properly then the other half blood wpukd have lost her leg, it needed to be fixed. Still seeing how everyone was creating mini wmds these days and getting more blessings just making the shots stronger wouldn't work. Laura had an idea abd here in this still slightly unstable space was likely the best place to well something she knew would fail.

Laura left the workshop and found a plate the grabbed some of her favorite snacks from the fridge. Laura didn't really do the meal offerings or prayers or any form of respecting the gods really but she still knew the motions. She put the food on the plate and after looking found some junk she could use to kindle a flame. Laura would use a coal from the firge held by tongs to ignite this little pitiful offering. Then as the snake burned and stank up the room Laura clasped her hands. Those were the motions and now came the hard part. The prayer to an uncaring being. She didn't ask for Hephestus's favor or any God's really. She prayed to a much older being whose territory she intruded upon yet that she knew no longer responded to anything. She prayed fir a short moment to chaos that perhaps she might figure something out. It was pointless and hopeless, but well maybe she might get inspired.

 

[qunqun]

The Prodigy.

scroll

Auguste

The Prodigy

ㅎㅎ

MOOD

:c

OUTFIT

Basically Pajamas

LOCATION

Cabins

MENTIONS

Stig

INTERACTS

fraxiom

Eat Your Young — Hozier.

scroll

Metamorphosis.

Continual cycling, never ending, the same things rise and fall and repeat

Aftermath.

Walking away, the looming reminder of death was very happy to be done with that social interaction. It was too much, really. Linen sheets and little beady eyed friends peering over an expanse of mattress was a siren call.

If luck was on his side, he could melt into the shadows for long enough that the cheery golden siblings running about healing everyone would forget about his presence. He would be forgotten, forlorn, to knit more rotund avians, drink chamomile tea, be at peace with the universe as it were-

Oh Jesus fucking Christ someone ran into him.

Repose of sanctuary shattered, icy terror gripped him as he nearly tripped over the person a foot shorter than him.

PUNT HIM

Cried his intrusive thoughts, impulse running through veins as death stared blankly into the Ares’ kid’s face.

DO NOT PUNT THE CHILD

Shouted a much louder rational side as the war between these two impulses paralyzed him.

Blink.

Blink.

Processing.

Dam broken, outcry of apologies flooding his ears as he blinked back into the reality of a nervous wreck stuttering over his words and asking for forgiveness.

The giant slowly tilted his head to one side, the appearance of a predator deciding whether or not to devour the prey. Wolf meet rabbit.

“...”

Well, in actuality he was struggling to think of what he was supposed to say here, what was the line that was going to be most normal. How was casualness supposed to sound?

“Doonnn’t…. Worry about it…. Buddy.” The rumble of Hell itself, mildly threatening affection tacked on at the end, intended to be a comfort but instead a veiled daggered wish of harm, the charisma of an attack dog baring its teeth…

… that was to say, none.

Stare.

He did not move out of the way, nor did he offer any other words of reconciliation, just continued to loom ominously, Thanatos awaiting the swing of the scythe to claim another soul.

… This was so awkward, what was he supposed to do now.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Zenritch]

Spoiler: Mobile Friendly Version

A cacophony of emotions took over the black haired lad as he awaited his half-brother's reply. Anxiousness, anticipation, confusion, longing, anger, excitement, all were present but two emotions were waging a fierce battle inside him, the winner determined by the answer to the question he had asked Roman.

“2… 20…23?” Four series of numbers, normally so simple to pronounce, were uttered ever so weakly as ultimately despair triumphed over hope at the revelation.

He didn't want to admit it, but Spencer desperately clung into one miniscule sliver of hope… that no matter how much time had passed in his prison, barely any time would have passed in the real world. He should have known better than to entertain that foolish delusion. Maybe then his heart would not be wrenching with pain and despair.

From what Roman had told him, he had been missing for well over three quarters of a century. Even if he were to drop everything at this moment and rush over to Camp Jupiter, he would have nothing to return to. No friends, no comrades, no Solana Perihelion to admit his unrequited feelings to. Everything he had known, loved and lived for was already lost.

Despite how rude he was to him earlier, Roman was still nice enough to offer to lead him back to their cabin. For a number of reasons, he still wasn’t comfortable looking at another child of his deadbeat father… but he knew deep inside that the sins of his father cannot be inherited by his children. No matter how much he hated the idea of being the only one to suffer, it was wrong of him to wish the same torment to his half-siblings.

After taking a deep breath, Spencer managed to calm himself, if only for a bit. Despite how uncomfortable he is still with Roman and the idea that his father ran around siring more children after the godly prick left him for dead, he realized that he’s now in an unfamiliar world and he needed to get more answers and information instead of allowing his pettiness and pride to take over.

“Fine… lead the way.” Spencer replied, still with a tinge of uncertainty and hesitation in his voice.

A cacophony of emotions took over the black haired lad as he awaited his half-brother's reply. Anxiousness, anticipation, confusion, longing, anger, excitement, all were present but two emotions were waging a fierce battle inside him, the winner determined by the answer to the question he had asked Roman.

“2… 20…23?” Four series of numbers, normally so simple to pronounce, were uttered ever so weakly as ultimately despair triumphed over hope at the revelation.

He didn't want to admit it, but Spencer desperately clung into one miniscule sliver of hope… that no matter how much time had passed in his prison, barely any time would have passed in the real world. He should have known better than to entertain that foolish delusion. Maybe then his heart would not be wrenching with pain and despair.

From what Roman had told him, he had been missing for well over three quarters of a century. Even if he were to drop everything at this moment and rush over to Camp Jupiter, he would have nothing to return to. No friends, no comrades, no Solana Perihelion to admit his unrequited feelings to. Everything he had known, loved and lived for was already lost.

Despite how rude he was to him earlier, Roman was still nice enough to offer to lead him back to their cabin. For a number of reasons, he still wasn’t comfortable looking at another child of his deadbeat father… but he knew deep inside that the sins of his father cannot be inherited by his children. No matter how much he hated the idea of being the only one to suffer, it was wrong of him to wish the same torment to his half-siblings.

After taking a deep breath, Spencer managed to calm himself, if only for a bit. Despite how uncomfortable he is still with Roman and the idea that his father ran around siring more children after the godly prick left him for dead, he realized that he’s now in an unfamiliar world and he needed to get more answers and information instead of allowing his pettiness and pride to take over.

“Fine… lead the way.” Spencer replied, still with a tinge of uncertainty and hesitation in his voice.

the exiled one

Spencer

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

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  Mood

  
  
  
  

  Depressed

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Outfit

  
  
  
  

  
  Armor
  Tattered jeans and a Camp Jupiter T-Shirt close to falling apart.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Location

  
  
  
  

  Camp Half Blood Woods

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Mentions

  
  
  
  

  everyone

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  Interactions

  
  
  
  

  Roman | The Elder

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡