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Fandom ་༘࿐ 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 - main thread.

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bite the hand that feeds.
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PICK UP
THE SWORD.

enter.






" humans see what they
want to see. "




WARRIORS.
imagine dragons







 






_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐


“No maiming, no killing, and for Zeus’ sake, stop trying to sacrifice your siblings for your parents’ favor. It doesn’t work, and it’s more paperwork for me.”

The cool early fall breeze swept over the valley that Camp Half-Blood was nestled in, carrying the scent of overripe strawberries and rustling the branches of the trees lining the forest that the campers stood in front of. In the center of an aged marble pavilion facing the campers stood Mr. D, who had made the preceding statement, alongside Chiron, who paced along the side of the structure in his centaur form.

Everyone, of course, was excited- it was the first Capture the Flag game of the season, and since all of the summer campers had since departed, leaving only around fifty year-rounders, it was bound to be an interesting game. The energy was palpable as the armor-clad teens donned their weapons, listening to Mr. D read off the rules.

The old god wore his usual leopard-print garb, paired with deep purple cat-eye sunglasses that obscured his eyes as he stared out at the sea of half-bloods. No emotion betrayed him, save for the standard exasperated tinge to his voice. Chiron, on the other hand, seemed almost distracted, his eyes occasionally flicking up towards some point far beyond the valley.

Most campers were too hyped to notice this, however, and with the rules read out and the teams fully prepared, the first horn sounded, signaling the teams to split off to their respective sides of the forest. Overhead, a flock of birds flew over the valley- most of them hit the border to camp, but one or two stragglers managed to push through, the air shimmering and warbling around them.

The game was on.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════​

Half an hour and one painfully long speech about ‘forest safety’ later, the biology students of Goode High School unloaded into the forests surrounding Long Island Sound. The directions were simple enough- complete the scavenger hunt activity sheet, meet back at the parking lot at 2 P.M., and do not go off the designated trails. Easy, right?

But for whatever reason, the further you ventured from the main group, the more confused you got. Which way was north, again? Were the woods always this empty? And... was that the sound of yelling in the distance?

At some point, your ears popped as your brain fog passed, and you saw a few buildings in the distance that... didn't seem to be there before. Weird, but you probably just didn't notice them. They were probably ranger stations- maybe someone there could help you get back to your group?

What would be the harm in checking it out?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

yokai. yokai. aeneas. aeneas. felideli felideli SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles Uxie Uxie pearjuice pearjuice Hubub102 Hubub102 reverice reverice opaline opaline lvcid lvcid Bowie Bowie






 
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Post One: Misty-brained​

A yellow bus, one of a fleet likely in service since the 80s equipped with the vandalism to show for it. The endless drone of its inhabitants, a few dozen voices overlapping to form an orchestra of meaningless drabble echoing around the metal vehicle’s interior. The screech of double doors that haven't been oiled since their construction. A line, single file, the only kind the bus can support for its departures. The line gives way to a teenage mass flanked by underpaid adults attempting to assume order. The adults succeed within reason, with one of their number beginning to rattle off forest safety rules and regulations that no doubt will be ignored by at least a few. A period of time about twice as long as anyone ever should have to stand still passes and the mass is released into the closest thing a long islander can consider the wild.

All of these are the half baked observations of one Nicholas Arceri, high school senior and aspiring noir detective character played by Humphrey Bogart. You may notice that his account of the last hour or so is lacking in the details that should concern the average high schooler in such a situation. He pays little mind to the rules of engagement of this biology field trip and even less to the immediate dramas of his schoolmates. The reason being is that he’s distracted with a matter that perfectly encapsulates his two professions mentioned above. Nicholas has a case, a mystery to which he is devoting all the mental acuity he has to spare.

The case regards one Sean Parker, locker number 441, 4th place candidate for valedictorian, and one of only 67 students in his year to not have a single disciplinary action to his name. It’s Nicholas’ job to keep it that way. See, a rumor has gone around that Sean is the center of a cheating ring among the calculus classes. The rumor’s false, but if the teachers caught wind of it, it would compromise both Sean’s academic accolades and any chances at letters of recommendation, both vital components to get into his college of choice. Now, Nicholas has already traced the rumor to a vindictive chess club rival whose uncle just so happens to be the Vice Principal, a clear advantage in a test of who to believe. To make matters worse, there really is a cheating circuit in the calculus classes, and the teachers are out for blood. Nicholas hates the cases where he has to be the narc, but Sean’s a good kid and doesn't deserve his future ruined by an erstwhile checkmate. To give him a chance, Nicholas will have to give the faculty a cheater.

Back in the present, Nicholas’ body is on autopilot. Over the course of his time in middle and high school he’s made a special talent of completing his assignments within a B grade range without paying attention. It’s as if he stores the information he needs to regurgitate in his hands so that his brain can focus on things that matter. He makes his way down the scavenger hunt list, having chosen a less popular direction to mitigate noise, as the leads and evidence he had cycles behind his eyes.

He’s four items in when he stops paying attention to the trails, confident that even in the event of a disaster of navigation that his skills and the contents of his cargo pants leave him prepared for the worst.

He’s five items in when he rules out the Moore twins as people of interest. They’re rascals, but they only cheat off of each other.
At seven items… wait… no, he skipped one. How much sleep has he gotten lately? Not as much as he should have if the haziness in his head is any indication. Does he know anyone else on this trip? Does anyone owe him a favor? He’d love to not have to do this mind-numbing assignment.

Back to six, he hears yelling not far off. Nicholas thinks he may have made a circle, that he must be close to the start. But, why can’t he remember which way is north?

At… some point he started dragging his feet. His eyes are glazed over now and the all-important paper assignment hung loose in his grip. He looked like he was sleep walking, and he might as well be.

Then, his foot snagged an exposed tree root. The saying goes that the mighty shall fall, but it takes either an extraordinary imagination or a lifelong dedication to mind over matter philosophy to consider Nicholas mighty. And yet, he is no more immune to gravity as the mightiest there ever was. The Ironic part about falling is that mentally it’s a hell of a pick-me-up. As the shifting of his mass shoots adrenaline through his body, all his thoughts click into place.

-He’s been off the trail for about ten minutes.
-The pens used in the cheating match those that used to be sold at Dime A Dozen, place of employment for one honors calculus student -Samantha Wyne, giving him a lead to follow up on.
-He remembers the names and locker numbers of everyone on this trip and counts three favors owed to him.
-He couldn’t have made a circle since that would put him on the east trail which was heavily marked.
-And oh yeah… he’s falling.

In the nick of time he’s able to land on hands and knees rather than his face. As luck would have it none of the impact points hit anything hard, so he’s unscathed save for some dirt on his pants. He picks himself up, brushes off his cargo pants and scans his surroundings. Looks left, then looks right, then confidently concludes that he is lost. His father always said autopiloting like that would catch up to him, but there’s no reason to panic. He still hears the yelling further ahead and also hears a rustling in the brush much closer. “Hello?” he calls, heading in a direction that brings him closer to both the noises. Through the trees he can see a distant… ranger station? Now that he has his sense of direction back he puzzles, since the maps didn’t place one out this way. With any luck he’ll run into another classmate, sparring himself the embarrassment of bothering a random hiker.

Surely they’re in no danger and they can make it back without incident. Right?
 








A bright sky dotted with the occasional fluffy cloud. The sound of cheerfully chirping birds. Fresh green grass and bright red strawberries and golden rays of sun that glistened off the waves of the distant Long Island Sound. By anyone’s standards, it was a beautiful day.

Jericho hated it.

Now, he didn’t hate the day in particular- he wasn’t one of those broody Hecate kids or perpetually-furious Ares kids, anyways- but of course his father would choose this day in particular to make the weather so pleasant. The lack of any discernible atmospheric events would just make Jericho’s job harder. Throw a guy a bone, won’t you?

As Mr. D’s prattling went on, Jericho turned his focus to the sky. I’ve heard this speech enough times- I think I got it. Jericho didn’t really know what other demigods felt when they used their abilities- he’d heard Enya describe it as a tingling in her fingers, while Aiden had said something along the lines of him just ‘doing it’- before proceeding to do something like make Jericho eat a stick or whatever. Jericho’s abilities seemed to be much more tied to his physicality; he assumed it was most likely something to do with that first lightning strike that had sent his life spiraling, and his suspicions seemed to be proven correct each time he used his powers.

As Jericho focused, he felt a fluttering in the pit of his stomach, like a dozen butterflies condensed into one mass. Usually, if he was using one of his more flashy abilities, this sensation would explode outwards, sending shooting pains down into his legs that he would definitely feel the next day. Simply seeding a storm, however, was different- it felt more natural, almost, the static-like sensation running down the scars that covered his arms in a way that was more exhilarating than painful.

Lichtenberg Figures, Monty had called them at some point. A pattern made when electricity tried to find the quickest path through an object and into the ground. Jericho had, at one point, been that object, and now those scars tied him to his abilities. As the sensation passed down through his arms, it felt almost as though an invisible string was forming, tying him to the cotton-like cloud he’d been focusing on. As he concentrated, the cloud started to darken, becoming fat and heavy with brewing rain. It was no storm yet, but with any luck it would tend towards one within the hour.

Speaking of Monty, Jericho threw a glance over at the team captain. While Jericho had been captain a handful of times- he was a natural leader, and his status as a child of one of the Big Three gave him some extra kudos with the other campers- he had never been any type of strategist, and that tended to be his team’s downfall. Jericho figured Monty could lay out the plan, and then he could nod along and help convince the other campers to follow; though Monty was plenty persuasive on his own.

With the storm seeding out of his way, Jericho put on his armor and prepped his crutches. While he may not have had a lucky draw with the weather, his body seemed to have been in his favor today. Power usage or not, chronic pain was unpredictable, and Jericho was plenty thankful that he wouldn’t have to sit this game out due to his leg pain. He’d taken extra care to not even spar or train in the days leading up to the game- he and Cari would have plenty opportunity to duke it out in the woods. With a flick of his arms, Jericho’s crutches reformed into his sword and shield, and he put his weight fully on his legs, letting his braces take the full brunt of walking.

Before Jericho knew it, the horn had rung out, and campers were rushing into the woods to start the game. Jericho followed. He knew his position- solo border patrol, trying to catch any individuals or small groups that tried crossing the Zephyros Creek. It gave him a chance to chill, wait until his storm had fully grown to size before using any abilities. He expected it- for the first few minutes, at least- to be quiet.

Which is why he nearly jumped out of his armor when he heard a rustling in the bushes.

Jericho whipped around, his sword at the ready as he approached the obscured path through the trees.







the tempest



jericho.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 
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EVELYN
I was bleeding, I was powerless, used to lose every fight but I ride

unforgiven i'm a villain
the seeker
never asked for forgiveness
unforgiven
— le sserafim
mood: GOD why am i here
location: camp half-blood
interactions: none
scroll

The day was sunny and Evelyn could feel the light breeze running through her hair, and she could practically hear the plants singing in happiness at the weather right now. They probably were singing, but Evelyn chose to ignore it as she really wasn’t feeling too happy about her current predicament right about now. Gods, today was absolutely gorgeous, right now she could’ve been out exploring something she’s never seen before, but of course Evelyn was forced to spend the majority of her day doing a silly little activity that was of no use to her. The gods really do have it out for her, huh?

Now, don’t get her wrong, Evelyn enjoys a little game of Capture the Flag, especially because it gives her a little excuse to do a small amount of rough housing with the other campers. But, when it’s become your sixtieth game of it, now it might just become a little bit of a bore. The armor she wore already felt heavy on her shoulders, dragging her down a slight bit, and it hadn’t even been ten minutes since they gathered up here. She felt a complaint crawl up her throat, and she knows if she lets her feelings out they’d definitely get ignored, because complaining about being tired already? What are you a baby? That’s what Evelyn imagines they’d all be saying, but at this point she really couldn’t give two shits

Evelyn rolled her eyes seeing the other campers just about bounce off the walls from how excited they were, and she was debating on whether or not to sneak away while the two adults were too busy giving the usual speech of not trying to kill each other. Evelyn always wondered why that was a rule to begin with. Which is too bad really, could really help reduce the number of campers so it’s not as cramped. But apparently it’s “wrong” and “immoral” but whatever, not like she really cared enough to actually try and kill someone.

In the end, Evelyn decided to just suck it up and play through this one game of Capture the Flag, she figured if she did try and sneak off they’d probably catch her instantly. She had tried sneaking off to avoid playing Capture the Flag last summer, and you’d think they had eyes on the back of their heads with how fast they had caught her. And let's just say Evelyn definitely doesn’t want to go through the consequences again. She shuddered just thinking back to it. The only positive thing about this whole event was at least Cari was the one leading their Capture the Flag team, one less person on the team to worry about being stupid, and perhaps they even have a chance to win?

However, just as Evelyn was sort of starting to be positive about the whole thing, the once beautiful sky darkened, and Evelyn knew it was going to rain soon. Okay... the gods were really giving her a huge fat middle finger today, huh? Great, just what she wanted, fighting stinky demi-gods while soaked in rainwater. What a perfect way to spend her day. Evelyn heard the plants around her mention how happy they were to finally get some water for themselves, and she wished she could make them shut up, but she definitely didn’t have the energy to use her magic right now. Evelyn was so deep in thought she didn’t even notice that Mr. D had finished droning on and that most of the other campers sitting by her had gotten up. She had sighed and languidly got up from where she had been sitting to get a headstart on walking to her usual spot during these games. She had heard the horn sound from a distance from where she was, and Evelyn groaned. She realized she didn’t even bring a weapon. Fantastic.

This is going to be a long day.
© reveriee
 


















a blind encounter





With her status as one of the child of the Big Three, one would've thought she'd be captain often. This might just be the first time it happened. She was powerful, of course, that's one thing everyone could agree on. Great with her sword, too, even with her questionable fighting style. But overall, she's got a good record of winning, be it as first offense and not the lead. See, her leadership qualities would be what one would call lacking. In a world where it's survival of the fittest, the majority of them don't even make it pass the legal age, who could blame her, really? The saying might go "the brain is mightier than the brawn", but drop the sayer in front of her right now, or put them in a ring together, and see how they change their mind. After years of snarky remarks and all the cruel rumors circling her, disregarding the truth in them, she might as well be immune to words now. Sticks and stones or whatever. Action's what matters.

And that's why she wasn't paying attention to Mr. D. She hears it every week anyway. It's probably implanted deep in her subconscious somewhere. Cari was busy thinking of sweet victory already. Her plan was, of course, full charge, right after the horn blows. There was a lot of protest, despite there being so little of them now that it's no longer summer, most of them coming from the Ares kids. They've hated her since four years ago, and they never let her forget. One even stays as a counsellor out of spite so he'd always be there to taunt her. Still, with them and Cabin 4 at her side, she was confident, borderlining on way too cocky, even for her.

Soon as she clicked her armor on, she regret it immediately. She was going to abide to the rule for once, to show it to the younger campers “safety first” and the importance of protection. Normally, she'd just barely stick it to her body, just as a show so Chiron would get off her ass about it. This close to natural, flowing water of the creek and Long Island Sound, she's practically invincible. No one likes to get stabbed, but at least she wouldn't die. Maiming was illegal anyway. And if they wanted someone to be a good example to the new arrivals, they should've known not to pick her as captain. Of the red team, nonetheless. Caresse looked good in any color, of course, but why couldn’t it be blue? So much for staying on theme.

Both team disperses, and soon after, the horn went off. Immediately, the sky went darker. At first she thought it might've been the Demeter kids taking initiative, thickening the canopy for cover as they go forward. Casting a glance upwards out of curiosity before praising Evie and her siblings, she found the culprit wasn't on her team at all. It was Sparky.

Whoever's doing it was was no matter to her, who at that moment was only trying to rip her armor off. She was walking and pulling at the same time, while her team march on, rumbling the ground with their charge, as she instructed. It was short and sweet, just the three words: charge, battle cry, and win. Hopefully, their spirit weren't dying down with the sunlight.

Why is this armor so. hard. to. take. off!
She hasten her pace, eager to get to the water so it could help her hurry things along. Like this clunky thing could really "protect" her. So far, it's just been way too restrictive to her movements, and way too noisy as it kept clanging with her shield. As if monsters were going to see her wearing a few extra layers and politely turn back around just because she might be a tad bit crunchier than normal. If anything, it would just excite them more. It would to her.

Luckily, she was familiar with the terrain, as much as one could, with it changing with kids who could move them at will around. It wasn't her favorite, walking on dirt and not sand, but she could blindly walk and not trip on the roots and rocks and everything else, as her arm was wildly moving about. She wasn't worried on how to catch up. She was pretty fast, furthermore she could always “cheat” by going near the shoreline and just…. let the water carry her, bring with her a flood, to the other side. Though it would take time, and make her highly predictable, especially since her opponent is none other than Mo. A snicker came to her as the thought of giving her friend a sticker of the wonky, badly drawn star with “u tried” written on it, with comic sans no less.

Alas the girl was still imperfect, made even more apparent by her insistence on not paying much attention to where she’s walking. Embarrassingly, she stumbled right into some bushes, cursing under her breath. Hastily, she got back up and went to a stance, dangling half-off be damned, praying no one saw that.

Cari was expecting company near the water, of course. The other team's leader is Mo after all. She expected no less of him, them having been almost always on the same team until now. She knew time was of the essence. The key to winning that day was to not let him scheme around her as he'd always had to do whenever they were allies. Slowly spinning around, getting a good lay of the land, up the trees and behind them, she could hear a pair of clumsy feet nearing her. The mouth of those same feet hadn't the brain and called out, too. Or maybe he just started singing Adele.

Trying to get her mind to focus, she locked on the fact that it was just her and this one guy, not a dozen of the reds, or at least half of that, who were out to get her. Should she have been suspicious from that? May be. But the girl pounced anyway, pinning him on the ground with her shield, her other hand aiming the sword at his face.

"GOTCHA! JAIL!"
she exclaimed, a grin forming on her face. But this was simply too easy, and her grin disappeared as fast as it appeared as the realization hits her.

This dude is NOT a demigod.


She bounced back up on her two feet, shield and sword still up and pointing at him. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute. What is a mortal doing on camp?, What happened to the mist?, and most importantly,

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"


Maybe there was a protocol for handling a mortal who stumbled on camp. And surely, screaming while pointing a blade at them wouldn't be one of the steps. Or maybe it was, centuries ago. But this day and age, the mortal must've drawn the short straw to have called out to Caresse Lyons.


























Supermassive Black Hole












♡coded by uxie♡

 
Post Two: Fears and Lies
Featuring: reverice reverice
​
A crash. That was the best way to describe the sudden impact against his whole body that sent him back from the ground he had just picked himself up off of. Not like a car crash, those always had the vibe of non-intention. This was intentional. It was a crash like he’d always heard ocean waves described in what he considered horror stories. Freddy Cruger and Jason Vorhees might be nightmare fuel to some, but Nicholas’ nightmares have a common theme of deep waters. All the worse that, according to that primal voice in the pit of his DNA that has been with him, his species and every living thing on this planet since before they crawled out of the primordial soup; deep water was exactly what he was staring into.

If the fall before had provided an adrenaline boost, this was an adrenaline flood. In the fractions of a second before the chemical reached the rest of his body, terror froze him solid. What little air was left in his lungs after the initial “oof” was squeezed out and his skin was rendered pale as a ghost. Then, the human body’s naturally occurring drug surged through him, and the world snapped into focus.

It wasn’t the ocean he was staring at, it was a pair of eyes. Questionably natural human eyes given just how vivid a blue they were but a person’s eyes nonetheless. Eyes connected to a face, and immediately next to that face (and ready to skewer his face) was a… sword? Yeah, an honest to goodness sword currently threatening his life! Not what he woke up this morning expecting, but no time to lament that. The owner of both the sword and the seriously-can’t-be-human eyes stood up, taking a stance incorporating a freaking metal shield, as if somehow he was the threat in this situation.

His survival instinct kicked his reasoning into overdrive, and he read the situation best he could. The sword and shield were metal, and under the half-removed armor that dangled from her admittedly striking form was a spider-man graphic tee, both of which ruled out any kind of LARP that would fly in New York. However, running through what few words she has said thus far, her first line seems to suggest a game of some variety, a notion reinforced by his intuition telling him that she doesn't wear red unless she has to. That second point is hardly evidence, but Nicholas has learned to trust these instincts. So the stakes were high enough to use real weapons, but not so high as to use a more professional terms like “you’re under arrest” or even “stop right there”. An on-sight team brawl of some kind.

Beyond that he did his best to get a read on his attacker as a whole. He saw past the half removed armor and the piece of bush in her braids. She carried herself like an ace-in-the-hole: a challenger and experience seeker who would revel in the chance to face the whole world just for kicks, without even considering if she could win. He knew the type, at his school they usually played soccer for some reason. All this plus her confusion gave him an idea.

“I was sent to find you. Our team captain has set up a duel by the waterfront, single combat. Said you wouldn't want to miss it. Though admittedly the makeup and disguise was my sister’s idea.” A lie that took advantage of everything he could possibly deduce about the situation. A lie into which he poured both the seriousness of a man on a mission and the embarrassment of a man caught indulging a sister’s insistence. A lie that, best case scenario, would get her to run off head first into a challenge that wasn’t there, giving him some breathing room. A lie that, if nothing else, would buy him enough time to use his body language knowledge and his sleight of hand experience to subtly reach into one of his pockets and grab his miniature taser. A lie he has no idea when or how he’ll be able to make good on, but if it prevents him from getting skewered he’ll find a way later.

A lie that in no way accounted for any supernatural elements, and in no way took seriously the notion of this other person not being entirely human.
 
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aiden wilder huxley.
im no sociopath. i always know what im doing is wrong.
Aiden was no stranger to the speech that was given at the beginning of every capture the flag game, and normally he could find little things to do to keep himself entertained during the listing of the rules. Really, they should just be giving this speech once to the new kids, and not forcing everyone to listen to them every single time the game was about to start. It was rather boring, really, and a waste of breath; couldn't they all just get to the game?

Normally he'd find a girl - or many - to flirt with, look up and down, give a wink to, but today he'd oddly kept to himself, not going out of his way to bother any of the girls. No man was safe though. Aiden Huxley found himself to be in a more mischievous mood than a flirty one that day, and as a result he was messing with a lot of the other boys in camp. None of whom seemed to appreciate his pranks and jokes.

But Aiden was no stranger to rejection. He faced it often, daily, multiple times even in an hour - and his facade of over-confidence did well to hide his real feelings of wishing that someone would pretend to be amused by his antics. Everyone seemed to be in tense or foul moods, probably because of the game. He didn't notice the pattern in himself, but usually the crazier he was on game day meant that he played and fought just as crazily as well. Perhaps that was why everyone seemed to glare at him more quicker than usual, but either way, instead of wasting time as Mr. D read off the rules and reminded everyone that no dying was allowed, Aiden stood quietly. Eerily so.

Even worse, for those who didn't know Aiden (which most didn't), he looked as if he was listening. Or at the very least, just standing still and being respectful, two of which were never good things when it came to the disobedient child of Aphrodite.

Really, his eyes looked curiously at Chiron, who appeared concerned with something. Aiden didn't know what, but with a perfected expression of boredom, he glanced over to the part of the valley Chiron seemed interested in, but saw nothing. He's old, he's probably just sleeping with his eyes open, his mind lied to him, trying to convince him that one of his camp leaders was definitely not distracted or bothered by something that was on his mind, so painfully obvious to Aiden but likely nobody else.

He tucked it into the back of his mind for later - he did not plan on being a good student after the first game of the season, and a distracted Chiron either meant he could get away with more that night or that his punishment would be much harsher. He'd be wiser to not get into trouble, but that just wasn't his style.

The horns rang out to indicate that players could begin to take their places, and seemingly without a care in the world, the devilishly handsome brunette carried his helmet under his arm and tucked into his side, strolling at a leisurely pace as campers began to scramble around him like wild children.
bored | camp half-blood | outfit | nobody yet


coded by weldherwings.
 



enya.





































  • mood



    ummm hello???
















Enya wasn’t listening. Mr. D prattled on about safety measures and rules—neither of them subjects that excited the girl in any capacity. Instead, her attention was trained on her hands, fingers fiddling with a spring she’d found on the floor by her bed that morning and promptly shoved into her pocket. It was coiled tightly, not the most flexible thing, but surely, it’d be good for something.

Even the most stubborn had their uses. She’d know.

A shadow cast itself over the group, and, looking up, Enya noticed a cloud, dark with the promise of rain, that hadn’t been there before. In fact, the day thus far had been perfectly clear, and she knew that Jericho was undoubtedly behind the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She glanced toward the son of Zeus, his eyes turned steadily upward, proving her point. It was likely intended to be a later advantage, though Enya couldn’t say she was particularly fond of the idea of swordplay in a torrential downpour.

Then again, she thought, gaze drifting to her nails, the traces of oil still smeared beneath them a stark contrast to her otherwise pale skin. I could use a bath.

Enya tugged at her armor’s leather straps, attempting to shift the breastplate into a more comfortable position on her narrow shoulders. Still, it hung loosely despite being in the tightest notch, and she gave up her vain efforts as she fell into step with the son of Athena.

Monty was about as good a team leader as any—maybe better. He’d inherited his mother’s knack for strategizing—while most of the campers there let their whims call the shots in the final moments leading to the conch horn’s starting blow, he preferred to have a plan of attack already in order, and Enya had to admit, it was impressive, even if Capture the Flag was nothing more than a game. That’s what Monty did now, filling Enya in on where she fit into his scheme, and she nodded along. Just as she was about to offer a salute, a teasing, “Aye, aye, captain,” tumbling from her lips before breaking off between the trees, his last statement halted her actions before they could even properly begin.

“Don’t let Aiden goad you into a fight.”

With a scoff, Enya tightened her grip on the axe thrown across her upper back like a baseball bat, paying no mind to how dangerously close the blade was to her head. She cast a sideways glance to where the Blue Team trickled into the forest, and Enya half-expected the son of Aphrodite to be there, already staring with a smug look on his stupid face, but luckily for her, Aiden was nowhere to be seen. “When have I ever?” Enya retorted. “I start those of my own free will, thank you very much.”

With a parting shove, Enya separated herself from Monty and plunged into the underbrush.

The farther Enya walked into the woods, the thicker the canopy of leaves became overhead, blocking out the sunlight until she resorted to carrying her weapon one-handed, using the other to ignite a flame in her palm to ensure she didn’t get her foot caught in any of the gnarled tree roots that twisted beneath the pine straw. She was to be stationed on the front lines, by the creek, which meant she’d likely have Cari to deal with at some point, given that the shallow river was the only water source in the Blue Team’s territory. To the right, Enya could vaguely make out the sound of waves crashing against the shore beneath the battle cries of her fellow campers.

For a moment, Enya debated doubling back. She was a good distance now from where most of the fighting seemed to be—there wasn’t much she could do out here alone.

Except, she wasn’t alone.

A twig snapped, and Enya extinguished her light, allowing the long shadows of the trees to consume her. Readying her axe, the daughter of Hephaestus waited with baited breath for her unexpected company to reveal themselves, though whether they were friend or temporary foe remained to be seen.

































fire in cairo



the cure










♡coded by uxie♡
 









scroll








the lyre



yumi.













location

The forest











outfit

Click. Her hair is braided into pigtail braids and secured with pale yellow ribbons.











interactions

Open











mentions

none at the moment














'I wonder if dad has eaten the food I left for him.' Yumi wondered with a worried expression in her eyes, her gaze unfocused as the scenery passed her by through the bus window. It was how she generally spent her day, worrying if her father was taking care of himself when she wasn't there to force him too. With a small sigh, she refocused her thoughts and pulled her backpack into her lap, double-checking she has all the things one might need when walking through the forest. She had even unearthed her hiking boots that had been buried in her closet ever since the accident; why wear them when there wasn't anyone to go hiking with anymore.

The bus eventually rolled to a stop and Yumi disembarked with the rest of her class, idly braiding her hair into two sections and tying the ends off with yellow hair ribbons as she listened to their Biology teacher give their speech about being safe when heading off into the forest. Her eyes scanned the activity sheet one last time, silently mouthing the instructions to herself on what she needed to find before she was headed off through the foliage.

It was a beautiful day, just like the ones she used to spend exploring with her brother. She mentally forced the thoughts away, she refused to break down in the middle of a class field trip; she had to be strong, for her father, for the both of them.

Due to her poor sense of direction, she had even brought along a compass just to make sure she didn't get lost in the forest but for whatever reason, the needle kept spinning in circles. 'I just bought it, how could it be broken?' She thought with dismay as she tucked the useless tool into her back pocket.

As she squinted upwards through the foliage above her, two things occurred to her; one, the sky had changed from a bright sunny day to looking as if the heavens were going to split open and rain down upon them and two, she could hear faint yelling in the distance. Her pace, which had been steady ever since she had broke off from the group, slowed as hesitation halted her steps.

Had something happened? Was someone hurt? Worried for her classmates, she picked her pace back up, a frown creasing the space between her eyes as she spotted what looked like ranger stations, a landmark she definitely didn't remember seeing before and she was certain she had been heading in a straight line.

Maybe someone there could help her get back to her group, the last thing she needed to do was wander around by herself in the hopes of figuring out where she was. Confident now that she had a sure destination in mind, Yumi hitched her backpack higher and headed towards the buildings she could see in the distance.


♡coded by uxie♡
 
mood :
*gulp* she's right behind me isn't she?



location :
north woods
outfit :
mentions :
enya, jericho, cari



interactions :
blake ( opaline opaline )
mind over matter
★ monty
Another Friday, another chance for Monty to prove himself, to lead his team to another hard-won victory. By now, it was a rare occurrence for him to be the leader of a losing team, though he wasn't about to become too comfortable with sticking to old strategies, especially now that he would be playing head-to-head against a dear old friend. Shoving a long bow into the hands of a fellow teammate, Monty dutifully rattled off some instructions to a few Cabin 11 and 12 members gathered around him, lifting a hand to gesture to the trees while they nodded and echoed Enya’s earlier sardonic ”Aye, aye, captain.” The memory of his previous conversation with her made him smile involuntarily, his lips softly curling upwards with the thought of the very real possibility that his last-minute warning was getting completely ignored.

Monty turned to the rest of his battalion, satisfied with how everyone was more or less falling into roles they were used to, relying on their strengths and their leader's wit to guide them.

“Again, watch out for the sphinx,” He restated, with some wariness. “None of you are to confront her head-on without a Cabin 6 member by your side, alright?” Gods knew a few of them needed the reminder.

By then, a few clouds had pulled together to darken the otherwise clear summer sky, followed by the soft rumble of thunder resounding in the distance, and Monty felt the volatile cocktail of anxiety and adrenaline within him start to settle into something resembling comfort. No doubt the rising storm was Jericho's doing, the son of Zeus could never resist the urge to demonstrate his gifts, as if he still weren't used to having so much power at his disposal. This time, though, Monty would have been more worried if they weren't on the same side; water often worked against itself when put against pure electricity. Cari would need to tread carefully if she wanted to get past the creek.

He headed for the northern forest boundary where the Blue team’s flag was hidden, opting to stay behind to ambush anyone who might have been skilled enough to evade his first line of defense. The spear in his hand was a comfortable extension of himself, the armor he donned acting like a second layer of skin; he was in his element, blood singing a war cry with anticipation of a fight, his feet immediately locking into the familiarity of a fighting stance, left foot forward and right leg bent in a quarter circle. It was uncanny the way his body reacted before his mind when it came to war.

The wind hissed with the metallic clang of a blade, which he narrowly avoided with a parry of his spear. The fight came naturally to him like a dance that’s been ingrained in his memory several times over, his eyes immediately darting to the limp in the Ares kid’s left leg as she ran towards him with her teeth bared. He’d sparred with her many times before, and compared to the rest of the Cabin 5 crowd, Josie was among those who had the most to prove, her pride often outweighing her capability.

As Sun Tzu had once said, the best battles are won without having to fight at all. He switched his grip and reached out to strike her ankle with the brunt end of Curiosity, landing the hit as the girl fell to her knees with a pained grunt. Monty righted his posture, fluidly maneuvering to evade her second half-hearted attempt to attack him with her sword. Ears perking up at the sound of rustling leaves behind him, he paused, giving Josie enough time in those few split seconds to recover and land a remarkably painful kick to his side.

He sprang backwards with a wince, keeping ample distance from her as he clutched at his side and assumed a defensive position. “Do you hear that?” Monty said, parrying yet another one of her strikes. The sound of celestial bronze clanging against each other should be the only audible noise within this corner of the woods, and yet, it was steadily overtaken by the frantic sound of crackling branches.

“Cut the mind games and get serious already,” Josie snarled, relentless with her blade as she swung a series of blows that never landed, only to get swiftly disarmed with a sharp blow to the side of her arm, weakening her grip on her sword enough to send it flying into the nearby undergrowth.

As if on cue, hurried footsteps pounded on the grass behind him as he finally turned his head to the source of the noise, tightening his grip on his spear. With it, came the arrival of sharp intakes of breath, signaling the approach of someone who appeared to be fleeing.

From what, remained to be seen.

coded by reveriee.
 
aiden wilder huxley.
im no sociopath. i always know what im doing is wrong.
Aiden made his way into the woods without much regard to the intensity of the game, knowing that there would be no one of importance seeking him out or hoping to run into him. He had acquaintances but no one he held close and dear to the heart most claimed he lacked. Sure, there were plenty of girls that were infatuated with him, but it never lasted than what he wanted to deal with and most of those turned into some varying form of hate. Thus far, the only exception to this was Cari, who miraculously deemed him a worthy ally even after he'd spent some time bullying her. But they had enough in common to get along. Still, he really doubted she would seek him out for anything, a stupid flag game in the air or not.

He'd never really tell anyone in depth how much he liked nature, but he was fond of the chances he got as a kid to go hiking and adventuring. He loved how the sun would kiss the edge of the treetops, how the sky would look like a beautiful painting in the mornings and evenings, how the wind felt whipping against his face or softly caressing the soft locks of his brown hair. Days like this where he just wasn't feeling his normal energy for capture the flag, he was happy to take his sweet time getting to his destination and enjoying the journey. Rather odd, for someone who was very competitive, but this time he didn't have any wagers on the outcome - perhaps a large reason why he didn't have the fire he normally did.

The son of Aphrodite stepped on something that snapped under his boots, and just as he ducked down and behind a tree, he heard the familiar flick of a flame andthe barely audible sound of someone raising their weapon - though Aiden knew exactly who it was. Under his helmet that he had put on just a minute before, he grinned, and not even bothering to reach for his two daggers on his utility belt, he walked out from behind the tree, hands clasped behind his back.

"Ah, my darling enemy. What an honor it is to see you again." He purred, stepping forwards but stopping about seven feet before her. "I suspect that you won't let up on this game and allow our conversation to be less..." His hazel eyes flickered from the bronze and slightly off center axe in her hands, which were gripping the wooden handle so tight they were turning white, back to the determined glint in her eyes. "..violent?"

He already knew what her answer would be - knew it before he'd even laid eyes on her. She was a fighter through and through, something that made messing with her so horribly fun. She was rather crafty, but she had a mouth that could almost rival his since they both lacked a filter (or rather, she didn't have one at all and Aiden feigned not having one) and didn't give much regard to dealing with people properly. He knew she was selective about who she let in and didn't let in, and in her earlier days at camp he had used it against her, letting her know that he saw more than she wanted him to see, and let her struggle to figure out how and why he was able to do so.

Now, he was just a pain in her ass. But Aiden knew it was the best thing to be to a girl - the only thing that threatened him was true indifference. He would rather be hated than not perceived or given attention.
excitable | camp half-blood | outfit | enya


coded by weldherwings.
 


















gaslight, gatekeep,





Caresse might not be the most observant needle in the haystack, but anyone with years of the camp's training would catch what this boy in front of her was trying to do. Distraction was as good a tactic as any, and though it may not make her top three, she was specially familiar with its subgenre, one the most-likely-mortal was attempting in front of her very eyes. The girl didn't even try to stifle the snort bubbling up its way out of her.

She lowered her shield. There's no use for her to get her defense up for just a rando stumbling upon their location by mistake. While her sword might still be pointing at him, she shifted slightly to a more relaxed stance, her arrogance kicking back in, showing she's easily the one holding the cards in this situation. Her eyes scanned the person, sizing him up, her selective not even bothering to register the words coming out of his mouth. He looks normal, alright. Not a visible weapon in sight, and though he might be hiding one, how much does a regular weapon hurt compared to being magically electrocuted or lit on fire anyway? Yep, no armor confirmed, and is that.... cargo pants? It did make her even more bewildered, if anything. He did not look like he's in his 40s, what the hell is he doing with that kind of fit?

Seriously, how in the hell did this dude just scramble through the mist?
She sighed.
I literally do NOT have time for this.


"Look, dude, you clearly don't know shit about what's going on right now,"
her habit of talking with her hands showed, as her hand swung the sword she's holding with her every word, meanwhile she's getting "dangerously" close to him,
"So I'll just leave you alone for now. You didn't see me, I didn't see you. Got it?"


Slowly, she lowered her sword, as if she was about to turn around and leave, before swiftly turning back with her sword raised, and stab him dead center.

The sword, not as shiny with barely any light pouring down under the canopy and the darkening sky, passed right through the now confirmed mortal's body, like it was mere smoke and not a harmful weapon that's killed many monsters in the time she's got her hands on it.

Cari "pulled out" the sword from his torso, it not giving any sort of resistance, since it wasn't really planted in his flesh, just not so politely passing by.

"Right. See? Mortal."
She spoke aloud, her tone happy to not add another murder charge down her list of crimes, as this one wouldn't be as wrongful an indictment as the other ones. Well, the other ones weren't exactly not her fault, either.

Now she's truly turning her back on him, putting her sword in its sheath as her hands are back to busy with her armor. By some miracle, it slid right off her this time. Thoughtlessly, she just tossed it to the ground, making a mental note to pick that up later, as if she'd remember to, or would actually do it even if she will.

"Just turn around and go back to wherever you came from! This is just a nightmare, probably! Good luck!"


With her parting regards given, she quicken her pace back to a jog, leaving behind the boy to be somebody else's problem.


























Supermassive Black Hole












♡coded by uxie♡

 
Last edited:








“...and do not go off the main paths. Seriously, guys. Anyone found off the main paths will get detention for a month. Capiche?”

As Mr. Lentley’s speech went on, Rhys caught a playfully accusatory look from one of their friends, Sam, out of the corner of their eye. Rhys responded with an innocent smile that practically sang, Why would lil’ ol’ me ever do such a thing? The pair turned their heads back towards the teacher before they’d end up bursting out into laughter.

Rhys looked down at their biology assignment. It looked like it might make good kindling- they had never particularly been interested in survival skills, but they’d seen a youtube video the other day on starting a fire without a lighter, and it seemed fun. Besides, it would just be a tiny little fire, and how hard could it really be?

As Rhys wandered through the forest, mind on arson and that weird mole they’d noticed on Mr. Lentley’s chin, they started to feel the weirdest headache come on. It started as a dull throb in the back of their head, before progressing into a full-on migraine. Ow. What the hell? Rhys went to take a swig of their water… before remembering they’d left their bottle on the bus. Great.

But then, with the sudden feeling of their ears popping, the headache was gone, and they were left in an area of the woods where the trees had thinned leading to a sort of clearing by a burbling creek. That was when Rhys noticed that the sky had gone weirdly dark. They looked up. Wait, where did that storm come from? Then they looked forward.

Wait, where did those teens come from?!

In front of Rhys had appeared two other teens that Rhys didn't recognize. The weirdest part was, Rhys couldn't make out their features, because they were wearing armor. Not the sad stuff you find in the back of an abandoned Party City after Halloween, but actual, full bronze armor. Not only that, but they had weapons- one of the teens was wielding giant battle axe, while the other had a pair of sick-looking daggers. Rhys knew about those nerds that liked to make their own armor and run around in the woods pretending to be knights or whatever, but this... this was something else.

This was awesome!

“Sorry to interrupt your LARP or whatever, but oh my gods, I love your guys’ weapons!” Rhys squealed, then ran up to the two other teens. They went to touch the girl’s axe, then thought better of it and jerked their hand back. “Is that a Labrys? That’s some sick craftsmanship- I didn’t know there were historic welders in New York! Unless you got that shipped, which, I don’t envy the shipping prices for that thing, yikes.” They turned to the boy, their mouth not even skipping a beat. “And those have to be acinaces, right? The edges are too rounded to be parazoniums, so… but also, aren’t those from two different time periods? I mean, the daggers and the axe- are you doing a Hellenic roleplay, or a Mycenaean, or some kind of pan-Grecian type thing? I’ve never been a big LARP person, but if there’s a Greek themed one in New York, I might have to join. I wouldn’t have to wear the stupid orange shirt though, right?” Rhys beamed at the pair.







the trireme



rhys.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:







beau de leon



  • .



Despite the pleasant weather and his own love for the great outdoors, Beau could think of ten different things from the top of his head alone that he'd rather be doing than wandering through the woods with an activity sheet in hand. It didn't help that the events that occurred earlier were worse than the last—listening to an all-too-loopy Mr. Lentley go on about poison ivy and hornet colonies as the kid who sat next to him spent an entire half-hour shoving granola and trail mix in his face. If he hadn't been the same Beauregard de Leon in the running for valedictorian, he would've crumpled the scavenger hunt into a ball and hitchhiked back to the city. He had a feeling if he did, he'd make it back there much earlier than the rest of the class; field trips never go according to plan.

But alas, there he stood—sneakers buried within the forest's overgrowth instead of against the pavement on the side of the road. No matter how inconvenient the case was now, he was the same Beauregard de Leon competing in a league of competitions, valedictorian being only one of the many. He couldn't afford to skip even a silly scavenger hunt. Back burdened with the weight of expectation, he'd lose his edge.

And it wasn't like it was all bad. For the first couple of minutes, it felt nice to be alone. It gave him downtime. Away from heavy gazes and accompanied by nothing but fresh air and clear skies, he was allowed to scribble down answers on his paper without having to make a performance out of himself. But then a few minutes began to feel just as long as the bumpy bus ride and suddenly he couldn't stand it. His activity sheet, though just two items away from being finished was starting to make his eyes burn, and the little game he played kicking a rock across the nature trail no longer felt like a game but a chore.

It was all so painfully boring.

Never quite the man built to be alone (or at least never used to it) it was almost second nature for him to turn towards a friend for a laugh, he frowned seeing that there was no one. How long have I been walking? Had he been that distracted? The trees gave him no hint nor answer, looking the same as the ones he saw at the start of his trek on the path. Echoes of Mr. Lentley’s gruff voice from his longwinded lecture urged him to shift his sights back to the bus yet he felt compelled to do the opposite. In a mixture of sunk cost and an irrational gut feeling he tore a page out of Robert Frost's book and took the path least traveled, choosing to venture deeper along the marked track rather than turn away. Beau didn't know what he was trying to get out of the choice; though he tried to convince himself it was for the sake of his worksheet, the prospect felt half-baked at most.

He idly shifted his focus from the pathway to his paper, tapping his pen against his thigh before returning back to the forest to half-heartedly attempt to find one of two answers within the oak trees and wildflowers. Instead, as if some higher power took pity on him or from sheer luck, a lifeline was cast his way in the form of a familiar look of indifference.

"Andie—hey!" The nickname felt weird said, and although he grew used to Phoebe throwing it out like it was nothing, Beau never dared to try it himself. It felt too personal, something the two were far from despite the handful of times they walked the halls of Goode High School together; polite conversation in tow with the aid of their mutual friend acting as their vibrant bridge. When Phoebe was around, the two got along amicably but when she wasn't, well, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a shared struggle. Most times, he'd just acknowledge her with an awkward wave or nod but, fueled by the relief to finally see another face, he couldn't help but perk up and smile as he walked her way.

The indifferent look of Andrea contorted to an unimpressed frown and though it made him wish he had crossed paths with Blake or even the strange guy who liked to play detective, he didn’t let it phase him. She had always been a hard egg to crack but he’d get her to tolerate him at least for the time being. “How’s the scavenger hunt been treating you?” A decent question to start off a chat, short and simple.

“Fine.” Andrea’s eyes drifted away from him, taking more interest in a nearby shrub. Beau felt a dent in his pride form at the sight.

“Found all of the items yet?” He tried again.

“No.”

In another world, Beau would wish her luck, apologize for bothering her, and walk the opposite way but he continued to give his best polite smile and persist. “Need any help? To be honest, I’m getting kind of bored just walking around here.” Without a hint of hesitation, he held out his activity sheet. “If you’d let me stick around, you can copy off of my paper. As long as you don’t share them with Sean Parker—I don’t really care.”

Either out of annoyance, actual consideration of his offer, or a mix of both, Beau watched Andrea consider his words. It took him a second to properly process it when she took his paper from his grip and settled with a short, “Sure. Thanks.”

“Cool.” He grinned. It wasn’t much but he’d take what he could get. “I think the last two answers might be further down the trail if we wanna check it out.”





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 

My eyes turn and I get angry, reflected in the mirror like a hungry mountain animal





faster



Catch me, then!



faster










the fleet













location:
woods




outfit:
x




interactions:
beau, jericho







Andrea would very candidly and readily say that Biology is her least favourite subject. There was something freeing about admitting you were happier not pulling all-nighters memorising the different types of lipids, and she had come to thoroughly enjoy that freedom. She couldn't believe she ever tried convincing herself that polysaccharides were remotely interesting.

If only Biology would let her go.

She'd thought it wouldn't be too bad — tick off her items fast and treat the rest of it as a relaxing little hike through the random woods. It would've been, if the answers had not been evading her for however long she'd walked for. Her activity sheet had already creased in several directions from the careless way she was holding it, her handwriting a mess of scratches and scrawls from having to write against a trunk. Phoebe was lucky to be nursing a cold in the confines of her bed instead of looking for plants that Andrea was convinced did not exist, at this point.

Where was she, anyway? Somehow or another she'd been pulled off course by the taunt of a red flower that was not, in fact, a columbine, and now she'd found herself wandering in circles without a sweet pepperbush in sight.

If she listened hard enough, Andrea thought she could just make out the distant sound of chattering and life, in general, though it was a resounding squelch that cut through the forest's ambience instead. She paused, gaze hovering on her boot was half-sunken into a deceptively deep mud puddle, and then to where dirt had splattered across the bottom edge of her dark green cargos, as if in disbelief.

With a sigh, she trudged on.



It wasn't like she didn't like Beau. It was just that she didn't really... like him.

To clarify, there wasn't really anything to dislike, either, and Andrea was certain it was because she hadn't put in any sort of concerted effort to look for anything. Even Phoebe had given up trying to get them any closer — she was far too content staying whatever with him. The way he seemed without a care in the world reminded her a little too much of her brother, if Angelo would actually try at things.

Nonetheless, she found herself following along behind him, brainlessly filling out the sheets. She knew neither of why he sought her company nor how he'd managed to find a pepperbush, but Andrea wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"So, is Phoebe here, too?"

If said gift horse would stop trying to make small talk, that is.

Her gaze flicked leftwards, where he'd fallen into step with her instead of leading the way through the forest. A pause, before she answered blandly,
"She's home sick."


"Oh," Silence reigned for a precious second before he piped up again, "A cold?"

"Yeah..."
Her voice trailed off as her steps faltered to a stop, a sudden wave of nausea swimming over her. A hand reached out to steady herself against a nearby tree trunk, only for her fingers to grasp at air just as the gut-wrenching feeling passed. It was by some miracle she managed to remain upright — staggering forward and demolishing a small shrub in the process — but she could've sworn that tree had not been that far to the left, nor had there been so many of them.

It felt like the most ridiculous consideration, but it was almost as if the forest had rearranged itself.

In the distance, the low rumble of thunder pulled Andrea's eyes skyward, looking upon what could only be the beginnings of a storm with mounting confusion. The once-sunny blue skies were now coloured a shade of ominous grey that deepened the crease on her brow.

"What the fuck was that?" Her gaze finally shifted to her companion, as if just remembering his existence. She eyed him for a moment before her wrist flicked quickly towards him, landing a light slap against his arm with the back of her palm. It connected, eliciting a surprised Ah?, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She didn't think a day would come when she'd be thankful Beau was standing next to her.

"I don't know."
she muttered in reply, her eyes moving back to survey the forest around them. It felt a little more hostile, in a way Andrea couldn't quite place her finger on, but she stepped forward regardless, reaching out to push away a low-hanging branch. Maybe it'd been the fumes of some toxic fungi, or whatever. They should move towards running water—

Crunch.

She froze, her head shooting immediately towards the sound with wide-eyed alertness. She exchanged a look with Beau, an unspoken confirmation in his eyes, and she stepped back, warily. They were long gone from the path, in an utterly unknown part of the forest.

Crunch.

It could be anything. In the best case scenario, another lost student, or one of their deadbeat Biology teachers who were surely still basking in the air-conditioning of the buses.

Crunch. Rustle.

More likely a wild animal, though. Were there bears on Long Island? She should've looked this up beforehand. She hadn't thought she'd need to.

Rustle. Rustle. Crunch.

"Hayes?"


The last time she'd seen him had been more than a year ago, before the ace of Seward Park's track team vanished off the face of the earth. They'd been something closer to acquaintances than friends, but the boy who had obliterated every significant record in the area was hard to miss, especially because Seward Park's performance plummeted after his departure. Andrea remembered asking them about it after, only to be met with a weird, uncomfortable response. It was easiest to assume he'd simply transferred out of state, but here he was on Long Island, clad in armour and holding a very sharp, very real-looking sword—

"Hayes?"
she repeated, alarm creeping into her voice,
"Why are you holding a sword? This is what you got into after quitting track?"








A young man carrying a rifle. You said you were going to catch me, tsk, tsk, tsk





♡coded by uxie♡

 
Last edited:
blakely esperanza
She loved the yellow bus. Blake didn't take it to Goode High School, so her only opportunity to sit on the rickety seats and appreciate the glorified aging tin can was field trips. It always held a bit of nostalgic charm for a life she'd never lead, but one she was well acquainted with through late nights with any DVD of her choosing. She usually skipped to the interesting parts, thus the romanticised school bus was not an extremely common feature yet managed to be burned into her brain nonetheless.

If she were in a movie, she'd probably have skipped this part. Blah, blah, blah, echoed the words of the teacher for a whole half hour.

There was not a chance the obligations and safety guidelines justified droning on and on for that long. Blake leaned in and whispered a little to her friends, stifling a snicker at the cargoes Mr. Lentley wore — the kind that could zip apart at the knee and miraculously become a short. Though, she was the first to come to their defence, all he had needed was a bit of styling. A flexible, sustainable fashion piece was something Blake could wholeheartedly support.

The current activity of ticking off a sheet had become mind numbingly repetitive, in comparison to the excitement earlier in the day. She paused to glance down at the clipboard grasped in her hands, flipping through the sheet waiting for something to jump out at her. She'd filled out most of the sections, considering it was painfully easy. It was a little ironic discovering her home schooling was leagues more difficult than anything typical American high school had to offer. It freed up the time to indulge in everything else.

Wait, was she supposed to be like, partnered with someone or? Fog seemed to cling to her mind, stubbornly obscuring any clarity of how she'd ended off the path or without anyone around her. Blake shrugged it off, grasping the clipboard at her side — she'd decided the task wasn't all that important, compared to finding her way — and continued to tread along with a renewed sense of purpose through the dense forest. She quickly spotted a tree that screamed 'climb me!' in the arrangement of its limbs. Blake would certainly oblige such a request.

A few decent footholds and yanks brought her up high enough to have a better vantage point. Blake scanned but couldn't find any indication of where she had come from. A pang of panic struck her, she did not have the survival skills to not die if stuck out in a forest for days. Would someone find her before she was merely one with the leaf litter? She'd probably just keep walking in one direction and eventually reach the edge of the forest somehow. That felt like a reasonable solution.

She could hear Beau's voice: Blake... that is the worst idea I've ever heard, we're not in the middle of nowhere. They might as well have been. There was no way to distinguish anything about their location other than the tree ahead was probably older than the other ones around it, but not older than the one to her right.

A tightness in her ear swelled, horrifyingly reminding her of the countless flights she'd been on, her vision becoming hazy. Blake sat down on one of the branches, clutching her head with her eyes squeezed tightly closed. The leafy greens and blues and blinding sun rays and light songs of the birds wove themselves together, providing the same feeling of a poorly made cocktail. The horrid omen of salivation, and a throbbing that made her want to crumble.

The violent winds of a hurricane rushed through: ears popping and fog dissipating, her mind able to reprocess her surroundings. The speckled light filtered through the forest's leaves was notably missing.

Her eyes snapped up to the sky, where the once clear blue was replaced with the menace of dark, rolling clouds. She actually had checked the weather in the morning. It would be rude if it lied and there actually was a chance of rain. But to change that quickly...

Blake levelled her attention back to the landscape which, while mostly identical, had some cabins nestled off in a distant clearing she hadn't noticed prior, and a giant, weird dirt mound just to her left. A gentle chittering to her other side pulled her gaze the tree trunk, which sported a giant ant climbing it. Giant translating to large dog-sized. As in, impossibly large. Blake screeched, flailing backwards onto the ground and scrambling to her feet to break out into a sprint as a second one lay waiting, already moving towards her.

There was no time to dare to spare a glance behind. Blake was active but admittedly not a hugely into sprinting and so her lungs quickly puffed to grasp at enough oxygen to keep carrying her legs at a pace faster than the ant. She almost wished part of their trip was about bugs, maybe then her useless clipboard would tell her how fast an ant actually was. Her footsteps became heavy, thumping the grass, which in addition to her own panting and pounding heart, meant she couldn't hear if the ant was gaining on her.

Keep going. Keep going.

Blake burst from the bushes into a small clearing with a leap to clear the twigs tangled on the forest floor, landing with a dramatic thud and pausing momentarily to absorb the scene in front of her as her chest heaved in pants to catch air. Two people about her age, one of them holding a spear that looked suspiciously real. She glanced between the two, frozen in place, she came to accept her choices was death by skewering or death by big ant bite. People could be reasoned with. Ants, she thought not.

"Before you think about killing me please do consider killing the dog-sized ant." she managed to huff out, motioning to the rough height of the ants. "I can also probably promise you a lot of money for not killing me, if that's of interest."

Given a moment of stillness, as the three looked stiffly at each other, Blake released she couldn't hear the chitter of its pincers or the scampering sound it made as it trampled through the grass. She was not mental asylum material.

"There were giant ants. Chasing me. Maybe they found a tastier meal... or something but they were there. So keep a hold of that spear and all just don't point it at me!" Blake took a few steps closer, twisting her body so she could see both of the people and keep an eye on the bush, her stance on edge and ready to break into a sprint at a moment's notice.
the prize
location
forest
outfit
overalls
mood
running. ants bad.
mentions
beau
interactions
monty yokai. yokai.
 









scroll








the canvas



alsany weaver.













mood

tired, whittling at a branch











outfit

here











location

hera's cabin/the firepit











interactions

open











tags

open















Alsany whittled away at a small tree branch she had snagged off of the ground, her hands rough from carving for the past... three hours? four? She had left the Hermes cabin earlier in the day to make an offering to Hera, and, if she was honest, to get away from her fellow cabin mates. The silence and the whispers had become far too loud for her to handle most days, and so she was consistently out with the early sunrise if she could manage. Every day spent whittling a flute, or a small animal or even something nonsensical, was a little more time to reflect on the things she had done earlier, or the things she hadn't done, and admonish herself for those aforementioned things. She knew that the first capture the flag game of the season was coming up, and if Tasha had been alive, she would have insisted she come and watch, at the very least.

But she wasn't. Alsany didn't feel the need to watch children push and shove their way to the top of a mountain to snatch up a stupid piece of cloth anymore. It wasn't anything she considered fun. No, no, what she considered as her idea of fun was sitting alone, humming to herself in a very similar way as one of her friends, and wasting her time doing something with her hands, and right now, that was exactly what she was doing. She paused for a moment, immersing herself in the sounds of nature, the rustling of leaves, the whistle of the wind, and the sounds of various forest critters as she finally completed her latest craft. Somewhere between a small instrument and a knitting needle, she supposed that, while quite substandard from her usual pieces, it would work if any of her other needles decided that they were done with her bullshit and broke, like so many other of her projects were apt to do. It would obviously need a standard bit of varnish, and maybe some sanding before it could be used, but she would steal that from one of the cabins later, setting the stick into her satchel as she rummaged around for another project to complete. 'No, not another woodwork... no use in painting... knitting will do for now.' she thought to herself, pulling out an orange and purple yarn, stolen from another cabin and crudely knitted together in an attempt at some sort of knitwear.

Wasting no more time or thought, Alsany began her continuation of her work, not giving much more thought to anything going on outside of her little bubble where she sat near the firepit.


♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:








“Monty? Cari? …Anybody?”

A second passed, then two. Jericho was about to turn around and resign to the idea that he'd just been hearing things, when out of the brush popped out two figures. Jericho's mind ran a mile a minute- his first instinct was to swing at them, thinking them just some other campers, but that thought was clearly extinguished by the realization that these guys weren't wearing armor. No camp shirts, either. These weren't campers. These weren't campers.

What the hell?

For a second, Jericho worried he'd accidentally wandered past the camp's borders, but no, he was still solidly within them, the burbling of the Zephyros creek not too far behind him. So this meant, whoever these non-campers were, they'd managed to get inside the camp. Possibilities ran through his mind- Disguised monsters? Empousi? Something else, but there's no way they're-

“Hayes?”

Jericho’s train of thought suddenly crashed and burned when one of the non-campers said his name, and he snapped his attention to her. “Wait, do I know you…?” He muttered.

Jericho could blame his incredibly poor memory on the lightning strike, but truth was, he'd never been good with remembering things. But when she followed up with her next statement, it hit him. No, I do know her- track, that’s it. What was her name, Adriana? Gods, how many years has it been?

“Hayes… as in, Jericho Hayes? From Bernard Elementary?”

Looking over the other guy, Jericho realized he recognized him too, impossible as that was- fuzzy memories of playing Jedi during recess in elementary school crossed his mind, images from his life before Camp Half-Blood floating around his head. "I do know you guys, you're..." Mortals.

This is bad.

As the situation dawned on him, Jericho's voice went from quizzical to alarmed. "What are you guys doing here, how did you... I'm.." Jericho's mouth opened, before closing again. He was at a loss for words; he wanted to make up some excuse, but traipsing through the forest with armor and weapons didn't leave a lot of room for believability. "I'm gonna be real, you guys are not going to believe anything I say, but you really need to get out of here." Though he knew celestial bronze didn't harm mortals, he really didn't want to take any chances.

“What’s here? What the hell are you talking about?” Possibly-Adriana replied. No, Andrea, right? Jericho thought. And he’s… Beau. Like ‘bow’.

"Yeah—where even is here? We're lost." Equally as fed up, Beau added more fuel to the ire Andrea had started. "One second we were on the nature trail and then it all... changed."

Jericho shook his head. “Like i said, you’re really not going to believe me, but there are other people out here with weapons, and they’re… less friendly than me. So if we could just get you guys out of here-”

“You're saying there are more of you? Running around with weapons? I can't even-" Not finishing his thought, Beau sighed, finally relenting. "Fine. But you owe us a fucking explanation after this- unbelievable or not."

“I can do that.” Jericho’s eyes flicked around, trying to determine if there were any other demigods in the vicinity. As much as the other campers were his friends, he really didn’t want to explain what he was doing shepherding around two mortals. Once he determined that the coast was clear, he went to move between Beau and Andrea, intending on passing them and leading them outside of camp.

Then he heard the growl.

Jericho instinctively swung around, his sword phasing harmlessly through Andrea- thank gods- and slashing through a cloud of black smoke. A pit formed in his stomach as he heard a wooshing sound behind him, and he turned to face the massive, black dog-like creature, it’s glowing red eyes focused on the three of them.

“Hellhound,” Jericho muttered. “Fuck.”

Jericho’s glanced at Beau and Andrea- it was obvious they saw it too, impossible as it was. I can’t worry about whatever the hell is up with the mist right now, though.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Jericho warned. He felt a few light drops of rain start to pepper his skin, thrusting his senses into high gear. He felt static start to crackle against his skin, and as much as he didn’t want this to escalate into a fight, he readied some sparks in his offhand, just in case. “We’re just going to back up slowly, and if it doesn’t decide to attack, you… might not die.”







the tempest



jericho.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 



enya.





































  • mood



    wait a minute.. who are you??
















Enya scoffed, lowering her weapon with a violent roll of her eyes. “Yeah, I bet you’d like that, huh?” she asked, free hand resting on her hip. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not stupid enough to fall for…” The brunette’s voice trailed off, pale irises glinting beneath the bronze of her helmet as she studied Aiden, a frown gracing her full lips. “…Whatever it is you do,” she decided at last.

The daughter of Hephaestus was the first to swing, but Aiden was quick to counter, and soon, the two were locked into a duel with seemingly no end in sight. They were evenly-matched—more than Enya would’ve ever anticipated—but as her frustration mounted, her attacks grew more aggressive, and suddenly, the last thing on Enya’s mind was the potential loss of dessert privileges. She’d live.

Enya lunged, axe aimed dangerously high. The force alone was enough to knock the son of Aphrodite’s helmet off, but he caught the weapon’s handle before more damage could be inflicted upon him beyond the cut on his cheek. Scowling, Enya tugged at her end of the wooden shaft with a grunt, but Aiden held fast. She was left no time for a second attempt when she was abruptly yanked forward, tripping over her feet and slamming into Aiden’s chest as a result.

Glancing up at her opponent, Enya’s gaze narrowed into irritated slits, nose wrinkling. “Let go, asshole,” she demanded through grit teeth, yet allowed no window of opportunity for Aiden to comply before she lifted a leg, landing a swift kick to the tall boy’s shin.

An unfamiliar voice rang out from between the trees, and Enya turned, eyeing the stranger. They looked fae-like, white-blonde hair adorned with silver charms and facial features impish in nature. They didn’t appear to be an inherent threat, but the lack of an orange camp shirt was plenty of proof that they certainly didn’t belong in these woods. Still, Enya’s curiosity was piqued—she could play nice for the time being.

Prying her helmet from her head, Enya tossed the protective gear to the pine straw at her feet. “Thanks,” she answered, lopsided grin finding a home on her mouth as she finally succeeded in wrenching her axe free from Aiden’s grasp. “I made it myself.” She placed her weapon blade-down on the ground between them to prop against like a cane, legs crossing at the ankles. Enya tilted her head, shaggy bangs partially obscuring her face as she gave the new person in their midst a once-over. “What’s LARP?”

A small chuckle.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

































fire in cairo



the cure










♡coded by uxie♡
 






་༘࿐ 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙

12:27










Reminders

ICARUS
the winged

























  • Jamie was excited for the field trip. Something he had not expected when the biology field trip was initially announced. It wasn't that he hated biology, it was an alright subject and the class was full of people he enjoyed being around but it wasn't a subject he woke up looking forwards to experiencing. Until Lentley had announced they'd be taking a trip out to do a scavenger hunt. Just them all in the wilderness searching for treasure. An excercise in endurance, wit and survival.

    It was like something out of the survival shows he'd been watching on Netflix.

    Survivalism and nature walking meets a quest for treasure. Sure the treasure was just a list of different flora and fauna but you couldn't win them all. He'd had a lot of fun on the bus ride jazzing up the entire thing in his head, it was no longer a lame walk in the woods but an exercise in survival. He was a sporty guy and survivalism just seemed like an endurance sport with a spot of danger. Sure you could end up hiking for miles, fighting a bear or drinking your own urine but wasn't that the risk you signed up for?

    It wouldn't be the worst thing ever to get stuck in the woods for a couple or hours or avoiding the bus and trying to rough it for the night, he could go fully Bear Grylls and build a shelter in the woods or set his biology assignment on fire for warmth - something he'd truthfully wanted to do to them all but this time he'd have an excuse. Though he couldn't remember if you could burn paper that had ink on it, if that was one of those things that seemed fine but then as he curled up under his surely brilliantly built shelter Mr Lentley's carefully typed assignment would mix with the flames to choke him with some toxic gas.

    The perfect crime. Lentley would have killed a student via something other than boredom for a change and walk away scot free. The man seemed like the type who'd be into that, no sane person could drone on for so long to such a large array of bored students without some sort of sadistic streak. It was fun to imagine it, the usually mousy Mr Lentley hiding some big dark secret that would one day get him splashed across the local papers - everyone would clamour around and talk about how they'd never seen it coming whilst he'd be able to stand tall and smug and revel in the knowledge he'd known it from the moment he'd stepped into the mans classroom.

    Then again maybe Jamie was being unfair, maybe the man simply wasn't sane. His latest fashion choices would certainly point towards that. He'd have to ask Nicholas what the rumour mill said about Lentley once the assignment was finished.

    Gossip could wait. Jamie was determined to be the first one to finish the assignment.

    He was a sporty guy, he'd ace it easily.

    At the first chance he got Jamie raced off towards the forest.

    ╚══《✧》══╝​

    The sun was burning the back of his neck and the trees were laughing at him. Jamie was fairly certain he had just passed the same tree for the fourth time in a row. Trees all looked the same to him but that one looked extra familiar. And it was safe to say they were either laughing at him or blowing in the breeze and either way it all felt rather personal and targeted. There was a familiar bird perched on one of the branches, he wondered if it was possible for them to be judgemental - if those beady eyes could sense the frustration rising through him, if they knew just how much easier they had it being able to just go wherever they want with a birds eye view of the world. If the bird could remember that he'd walked past it for the fourth time today.

    Define idiocy, the philosophers would ask. Behold Jamie defeated by Mr Lentley's biology assignment, his classmates would reply.

    Defeated by Lentley and his phone.

    He was not in fact going to ace the assignment, to be the first to complete it. He was going to scream. Or fight the familiar tree. Or cry. He was open to anything really.

    His compass had been possessed for the past hour, spinning around in a way that would put Regan MacNeil to shame. And really that was just what he got for expecting the school system to provide them with any working equipment. It must have developed a fault or something that they'd refused to replace, likely banking on the fact that any sane student walking around in the woods would have their cell to hand and anyone unfortunate enough to be living in the stone age would surely employ the buddy system to make up for it. A completely fair and logical assumption. Or at least it would have been if he had any signal.

    Zero bars. Four loops around a tree that seemed uglier with every repeated viewing. Truly Jamie had never endorsed the idea of a forest fire so heavily until he laid his eyes on that knotted trunk for the fourth time in what was surely a couple of hours. Miles of walking. An extended period of boredom. An unfinished worksheet, zero shelters built and no people to help pass the time.

    And still zero bars. He'd been up hills, down hills and even debated climbing a tree at one point before deciding spelks were the last thing he wanted to deal with but still zero bars.

    Did trees block signal? Was everyone who lived in the woods sorely deprived of coverage? Did Bear Grylls seriously not have his phone handy to check his social media between shooting? The survivalist way of life was increasingly not for him.

    The assessment was an increasingly harsh look into the world he'd spent the bus ride idolising. The coast was nice, you had cell coverage on the coast. Woods were seemingly where you were left to fall back on the techniques people used in the bronze age. He could try to follow the sun but he couldn't remember if the sun rose in the north or the south and he didn't actually know if the meeting spot was to the north, south, east or west of him. It was wherever an extremely ugly pair of shorts was located but that gave him little in the way of navigational skills to go off of.

    He sighed, kicking a rock and watching it hit the familiar tree with a satisfying thunk it was therapeutic and not at all anything resembling a temper tantrum.

    The bird cawed above him, jolted by the impact.

    It sounded offended. A part of him felt bad.

    "Sorry!" He'd heard of people losing their minds due to isolation in the wilderness, talking to the trees and the animals as though they were people to cope with the isolation. He hadn't heard of that occurring quite as quickly as it seemed to be but Jamie was not known for his ability to keep quiet and the bird was the only company he had. "It's easy for you, birds don't get lost." It surely knew which way to go. It was a bird, they followed the wind and currents or something.

    It seemed to preen at that.

    “Don’t be smug.” The bird just stared at him, still preening. “I can feel you being smug." It continued to preen. "Stop it.”

    It simply chirped at him in reply and jumped from the branch. Golden wings flying up towards the sky on the wind yet not flying out of sight, hovering just on the cusp of visibility and headed towards an unseen destination. It was either taking pity on him or leading him to his death. Or it was just being a bird.

    Whichever motivation, at least the bird seemed to have an idea of where to go.

    If lost sailors could follow birds to civilisation then lost juniors definitely could.

    He followed the bird, internally debating the entire time as to if he should resume conversation with it, only stumbling for a moment when his head felt as though it was going to implode on itself. It had felt as though the world had turned him inside out, as though something behind his eyes and deep inside his head was burning. His back felt hot beneath his coat. He strangled a muffled cry and fought a wave of vertigo, breathing heavily he searched the sky for the bird and found himself falling behind. He couldn't make out his semi-friend/guide in the sky.

    He hurried to catch up but the woods had started to clear, tents and archery butts and strangely coloured buildings rising from the ground where he could have sworn there once was a forest? His head hurt at the sight of it. It had to be a summer camp or something, some weird LARP-y scout thing that hadn't properly cleaned itself up. Fly tipping to avoid paying for the removal of their equipment or something.

    At least now there was paths, albeit far more worn into the dirt than one summer should have been able to do and the smell of smoke in the air.

    And where there was smoke, there was fire.

    Jamie followed the path, still trying to adjust to the headache that hadn't quite gone away, pulling off his coat to help the wave of heat subside - he was probably just wearing too many layers.

    A figure was sat at a firepit, hunched over something he couldn't quite make out and really after what felt like an eternity of isolation Jamie was ready to kiss someone if it meant getting back to biology.

    "Hello!" He called out brightly, past the nausea, "I'm lost and would absolutely love it if you could point me towards the nearest place with signal-" Eyeing up the weapons laying around the fire and only being mildly comforted by the sight the only weapon the stranger seemed to be carrying was a carving knife, "I swear I'm not here to snitch on whatever squat slash fly tipping situation you guys have got going on here-" He was resolutely planning to ignore the weapons, the weird symbols and just get himself back to the others as he really was no longer feeling 100%, could you die of exposure in only a couple of hours? Could you get exposure during the day? And as he readied another assurance that he really did just want to get far away from whatever this little firepit was in he was interrupted by the soft thud of a tree branch hitting the ground.

    The strangers hands were shaking.     "Orion?" He couldn't tell if it was a plea, a question or something else entirely. It was a disarmingly emotive response even if he couldn't work out the cause, eyes searching and making him feel as though he was missing something - wrong footed and a step behind.

    He'd never had someone stare at him like that before.

    "Uh," Jamie faltered, still not quite with it and thrown off by the distraught expression on the strangers face. "Like the star?" His gaze involuntarily flickered upwards only to be greeted by what was very much not the night sky, the motion sent another wave of dizziness through him and he found himself doubled over with his hands on his knees peering up at the stranger.







jamie.










© weldherwings.

 
mood :
my normal guy slay my normal guy slay my normal gu-



location :
north woods
outfit :
mentions :
evelyn, aiden, enya, jericho



interactions :
blake ( opaline opaline )
mind over matter
★ monty
A girl burst out of the shrubbery, seeming to have narrowly escaped her untimely death from the shaken look on her face. She took a moment to gather her bearings, her gaze finally meeting Monty's own, before landing on the spear in his hands, her eyes widening with the surprise of someone who had never seen such a weapon up close. He could detect no visible signs of deception in the genuine trepidation of her body language, cautiously backing away from its pointed edges as if he were some crazed lunatic about to murder a defenseless girl in cold blood. He had no doubt that to her, he probably looked the part. This, along with the strange girl's missing battle regalia and distinct lack of orange garb narrowed her existence down to at least two possible explanations.

She was either a halfblood who'd stumbled her way into camp for the first time, or a mortal.

Either way, it was probably a good idea to take her to Chiron.

“Myrmekes?” Monty deduced from her panicked description, swinging Curiosity so that its prongs pointed skyward instead. He hoped this signaled ’See? I'm harmless’ rather than ’Look at the huge pointy spear I'm going to stab you with!’ “Yeah, they're nasty things. Hey, you did well outrunning them when you did. They can be quite relentless when they've set their sights on prey.”

"There's no way you have a special name for giant ants. But thanks, I think?"

“Don't suppose they spat on you, did they?” Josie said, raising an eyebrow. As if she'd just realized that this stranger was no regular camper, she frowned and narrowed her eyes just as the girl paled, a question cut off by Josie's interrogating tone. “Hold on, who even are you?” She faced Monty with a look of distrust. “For all we know, she could be lying about the Myrmekes. They should've caught up to her by now… I mean, look at her. She doesn't even have a weapon.”

"I do think you are probably the weird ones for carrying real weapons, rather than the other way around..." The girl's comment was met with a glare from Josie, who Monty was glad was swordless otherwise she might've used it to assert dominance right about now. He tried to imagine never having met a demigod only to form his impression of them through meeting an Ares kid. Couldn't the fates have sent him a more docile member of the Red team? Like Evelyn, who would've asked the trees to confirm the girl's story, or even Aiden, who could've at least calmed her down, after a flirty comment or two.

“Well, either way, we've gotta move, giant acid-spitting ants aside,” Monty replied, faking a casual confidence he was very quickly losing as he looked around their tree-lined surroundings for the familiar dirt path which would guide them back into the center of the north woods. He threw an admittedly smug smile over his shoulder at Josie as he began to lead the way, gesturing forward with his spear like it was a walking stick. His side still ached with the kick from earlier. “You're going to jail, and then I'll take her back to camp to see what's up.”

With a roll of her eyes, Josie sighed. “Of course. It could rain fire and you'd still be bent on winning gods-damned Capture the Flag. Athena kids and their egos…” Which was rich, coming from a daughter of Ares, though he held his tongue. Despite this, she made no move to follow. “I need to look for my sword, so go on ahead. Don't look at me like that, Aikawa, I know where the jail is. Pinky promise not to take your precious flag!”

She walked off, form overtaken by greenery until there was nothing left to signal her presence but the sound of her footsteps echoing around the area. The forest was quiet, aside from the soft sounds of life that inhabited it. The piercing cries of a few owls overhead, a feeble squeak of a mouse. Monty had half a mind to call the birds down from their perches to ask them what they've seen, if they'd found any trace of the arrival of a helpless, seemingly mortal woman. Though, with some reflection, he realized it would likely serve to cause more alarm than comfort.

He turned a scrutinizing eye on the girl in question, making sure not to look too much like he was observing her as one did a specimen through a microscope. ‘Blessed by Aphrodite’ was definitely not something he wanted to throw around like it weighed nothing, but in this case, it definitely applied. She was undoubtedly soft, like Josie had implied, and carried herself with an air of casual wealth that Monty easily recognized. He realized, with some delighted interest he didn't have the mind to disguise, that it mirrored his own.

“So. You must have a few questions about, uh…” He gestured vaguely at himself, clad in armor and an alarmingly orange shirt. “Everything. And I have a few questions about,” another gesture, this time towards the human-ness of her denim overalls, “everything.” He grinned, a little bit conspiratorially. “How about this? I'll give you a head start.”

He had enough trust in his teammates to cover for him while he was gone. The game could wait, at least for the thirty or so minutes it would take them to walk to the Big House. Besides, accounting for Jericho with his storm and Enya with her axe, his team must have a leg-up on things by now... Right?
coded by reveriee.
 









scroll








the canvas



alsany weaver.













mood

not ok at all, send help











outfit

here











location

the firepit











interactions

jamie (the winged)











tags

Bowie Bowie
















Alsany's first instinct was to cry.

She had literally been doing nothing but sitting around, finishing up her little knitting piece, when the crunching of grass and dirt and strewn about leaves reached her ears. Someone had come to sit around the firepit, she should probably move, but she wasted no time in muttering. "I'm busy-" she started, only for a shiver to run down her spine as a very familiar voice started to speak, asking her if she knew where the nearest place with signal was. She absolutely refused to look up in this moment, because if she did, she would lose her entire mind. The last words Orion had ever spoke to her, ones of bravery, of courage, in contradiction to her cowardice the day she lost the two people she loved the most.

She barely even noticed that her hands were shaking, barely even registered that the name had slipped from her lips. Her eyes just kept casting downwards, unable, unwilling, to stare at what could be. 'Ok, calm down, calm down, someone is going to come if this is real, and if it's not, you just made a fool of yourself, it's fine, you're fine, calm down.' she told herself on repeat.

"Like the star?" The question caught her off guard, and her first immediate thought was 'of course like the star you dumb fuck, we've been over this, Orion, like the hunter your aunt killed'. The surge of guilt was immediate as she finally mustered up the courage to look, because who the fuck thought that about their own friend like that, especially one who had apparently sacrificed his life to keep her alive while she had played the coward.

Her eyes finally made a lock onto the stranger and... she nearly doubled over. This was Orion. Orion, who had helped save her life. Orion, who had helped her and Tasha get to the camp alive. Orion, who had helped her overcome the grief of being unclaimed. Orion, who had sacrificed himself to keep her alive. Orion, whose broken remains she still had burned into her dreams. OrionOrionOrion-

The smallest, most logical part of her memory was calling out to her, trying to plead with her that this wasn't Orion, and it was definitely was someone else, Orion was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Another, slightly larger one, told her that she should be grateful, to hug him tight and apologize, and never let go again. She swallowed, the final, much more irrational part of her brain superseding both, yelling that this was some sort of monster, or a necromanced version of him from the dead trying to lull her into a sense of security. For a moment, his eyes seemed to glow, and her heart pounded so hard that she thought her ribs might break. She blanked, her brain forcing her to do the only thing she knew how to do.

She screamed.

She grabbed her bag, starting to hurl anything she could grab from inside and chucking it to make whatever creature this was go away, and if this was her friend, to make him say something, anything familiar. She kept up for a while, tossing her knitting needles, some things she had whittled, her whittling knife (shit, there went her only weaponry), and other smaller things before her lungs finally ran out of air to scream with. She fell back, into the grass, into the leaves, panting heavily as tears streamed down her cheeks. If Orion was real, alive, she wasn't sure, but what she was sure of was that she was panicking, a lot, and she was still unsure if anyone else had heard her.


♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
aiden wilder huxley.
im no sociopath. i always know what im doing is wrong.
Aiden and Enya were soon locked into a fight, the noise of weapons clashing and grunts made from both of them filling the otherwise quiet area of the forest that they stood, rolled and fell in. She was a fierce fighter but he was bored, which was never a good thing for him to be. Minutes later he'd finally got the upper hand on her, catching the bottom of her makeshift axe and letting his helmet fly off of his head. He felt something hot and wet roll down his cheek, but he didn't need to ask to know it was blood.

"Darling, that wasn't very nice of you." He drawled, smirking as she demanded he let her go.

His grip tightened and a curse flew out of his mouth in a hushed tone as he winced, squeezing his eyes closed before opening them again and giving Enya a heated glare. He was used to such unprompted violence, but his shins seemed to be a favorite spot for the brunette as of late. As to why, he wasn't sure, but his legs hadn't been a regular color in months. Could he fix the problem by not doing things that resulted in her wanting to unleash on him? Possibly; she was rather aggressive. Aiden wasn't sure if anyone could get out of mere conversation with her unscratched.

He didn't hear anything, so when Enya turned, he paused and let his gaze follow to the person with white hair. He narrowed his eyes. Obviously they weren't part of camp, but they didn't seem to be very alarmed by their fighting either. If he had to guess, they looked to be about his and Enya's age, and their attire suggested that while they were prepared to be in the woods, that maybe it wasn't something they normally did.

"How did you get out here?" Aiden asked, dumbfounded. He looked up behind the person, then back to them. "Who are you?"

The brunette remembered earlier, the staring off into the distance and mild concern. Did Chiron know this might happen? He wondered, looking over the stranger again. They didn't seem at all concerned about their attire - maybe LARP was a dork thing that involved dressing up - and more importantly, they didn't seem scared. His eyes went down to the items in her hands and his heart dropped.

"The barriers down," Aiden realized aloud, his head snapping to Enya beside him. "That's a regular person."

What were they technically supposed to do? If it was just one person, then it'd be easier to go along with the person's story that they were LARPing and send them on their way, but if they came with homework, that meant they didn't come alone. It was probably a school project or something. What did they call it... field day? Trip day? He wasn't sure. But that meant more people could get in and it'd be a disaster if more mortals came in during Capture The Flag. He couldn't be everywhere at once and he didn't have the ability to send out some sort of mass warning to everyone in camp - his best bet was to take this strange person to Chiron himself and escort them there so they didn't get hurt.

"We have more weapons, if you'd like to see them." He offered, giving her a charming smile, baring white teeth. He drug an arm across his cheek, ridding it of some of the blood that continued to spill after his arm dropped back to his side. "A lot of armor too. You can't play with us but I'd be happy to give you a tour."
excitable | camp half-blood | outfit | enya


coded by weldherwings.
 







beau de leon



  • .



While Beau would normally commend himself for his patience and self-control—an absolute marvel at keeping his emotions at bay for the sake of public opinion, he was just about ready to lose his shit.

“You're saying there are more of you? Running around with weapons?" The more Jericho spoke, the tighter Beau's nails dug into the inside of his palm.

He couldn't recall the last time he saw the other boy, panic providing too dark of an overcast on his brain to remember. Somewhere between his ninth birthday and before his spontaneous move to the suburbs surely, but he couldn't put a proper date to it or garner a final memory. All he knew was that it had been far too long. Long enough for them both to know Andrea, for Beau to finally let his hair grow out beyond a clean cut like he always said he wanted, and for Jericho to upgrade their childish games of make-believe into a full-blown thing that Beau could only compare to Civil War reenactors.

Blood-thirsty Civil War reenactors in shitty orange t-shirts. What a way to go.

"I can't even-" While pleasantries weren't exactly on the table before, they certainly weren't now. He wanted to poke and prod the entire story out of him, he wanted to contend until his voice gave out and forced him to write on dirt, he wanted... he wanted...

"You sure like arguing don't you?" The blonde boy smiled like he knew something. They had stood in the small box of pavement between their two houses for fifteen minutes; no introductions or prior knowledge that the other existed up until that point and yet they had been bickering back and forth as if it were routine. As if the blonde boy knew him from just fifteen minutes with him.

10-year-old Beau, hands frustratingly balled into tight fists, gave him a high-strung "What?" like he didn't.

"You don't have to keep fighting you know, it won't get you anywhere—not with me." The boy dribbled the ball a couple of times—Beau's ball. The reason they had been in a stalemate. His blue eyes were glued to its movement and while Beau felt compelled to do the same, he could only continue to look at the scene as a whole. Only managing to scramble his gaze when the boy's attention returned to him. "Sometimes you have to choose your battles unless you wanna get stuck."

Beau sighed, allowing the hand once firmly gripped to be unfolded and shoved into his varsity jacket's pocket. "Fine. But you owe us a fucking explanation after this- unbelievable or not."

It took less than two seconds for the mirage of resolution to be ripped away from the trio by the sound of a growl. The rest that followed was a flurry of chaos. Beau barely had enough time to yell "Andie!" as Jericho instinctively swung his sword, slashing through Andrea as if her torso hadn't gotten in the way of the bronze blade. He couldn't comprehend how she was still standing and the environment didn't give him the time to. No more were the pleasant skies and faint chirps of surrounding birds. In their stead were a brewing storm and the heavy panting of an animal much closer to the group than any bird in a nest.

They weren't just helplessly wandering through the woods anymore, they were now at the mercy of what Beau believed to be the biggest mastiff he has ever seen. Red eyes almost glaring at them as if it were physically possible, snarling at the group like they were encroaching on its territory.

"It's blocking our way." They were at an impasse. A choice between dying at the hands of a giant demon dog, a fate almost guaranteed, or try their luck with Jericho's fellow weapon enthusiasts. A bone-chilling bark from the beast of a mutt solidified Beau's decision.

Choose your battles.

He tried to listen to Jericho’s advise, he really did. But as the trio began to slowly back away, the mastiff followed suit, its growls only continuing to echo within the forest. They couldn’t make a slow escape if they tried, they needed a distraction. And so Beau decided to do something either smart to give them a head start or extremely stupid that would get them all mauled.

Eyes glued to the mastiff's glowing glare, he carefully took off his jacket. "Andie, I need you to pass me a branch. A large one." He saw her brows furrow in the corner of his eyes—another bruise to his pride but he couldn't blame her for the immediate distrust this time. He didn't quite trust his plan himself. "Just trust me." Words towards both her and himself. Maybe it was the tiniest speckle of belief or a growing desperation for any attempt to get them away, but regardless, she played along.

Beau could only hope that he got the cliff notes of Mr. Lentley's long-winded bus talk on hostile animals that they could encounter in the forest. While a hellhound was no bear (though closely resembled one) by Lentley's logic, an animal is still an animal, attracted to scent and triggered by abrupt movement. It was a working theory at best, fueled by panic and pieces of a lecture told by a man who wore cargo pants, but what was the alternative? To be brutally eaten alive by a giant dog in the woods with an acquaintance and a friend from grade school? Beau would rather take his chances tying his varsity jacket to the end of a tree branch to throw far the hell away from them.

With a taut arm and a firm hand gripping the middle of the branch, Beau's sights shifted from the danger ahead to the tangles of shrubs and forest behind it. "Fetch!" Throwing a tree branch with an added weight from his jacket was different from the familiar feeling of a javelin from sports camp but he wasn't aiming to win—not this time. The goal was to just survive.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

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