xxxxxxxxL I V x P F E I F F E R
xxxxxxxxxxxxxPoseidon
xxxxxx#00CCCC || worried || outfit
Invisibility is one of those gifts that only a true recluse could harness without the power of their godly parent. As she sat in the Hall, a quiet figure with small teal tinted toes tapping mindlessly against the soft pink sandal she wore, her dark gaze ventures to Zeus. She listened to his words, her head tilted just enough for her hair to fall along her shoulder; lackluster and unkempt. It must be one of those days where the ocean was uneasy, and she has plenty of them. So many people were upset and stunned, but she just felt... nervous. 'Tap, tap, tap' goes the toes of her shoe against the floor, her body in a fidgety fit from all the madness and tension broiling in the space shortly thereafter. There is that nasty shrieking sound from Trinity, followed by the obvious upset of Wes.
Used to it? Probably. Everyone should be. If there wasn't some malignant force aswirl, then there was something worse than it - more insidious than any kind of evil they would face.
Drama.
She remained, for now, an observant woman with her eyes flitting from one involved individual to another. Some sickly satisfied by the encounter gone awry, others not particularly surprised by it. When all was said and done, the storm having passed through the wide open space swiftly, she stood up and took her leave. She wasn't in the business of comforting screeching sirens. There were things to do - unpack, resettle - remind herself that she was supposed to be here for some reason. That she belonged despite the fact that she couldn't bother to be anything more than a grain of sand on the beach last year. Maybe this one would be different.
Of course, she saw all of Wes' misfortunes - from the twisted love thing he had going on with Trinity, to the nervous blonde that looked like she might break down in front of him for now reason. Boy, does she know that feeling! Then again, certain children with certain parents were so Shakespearean that she can't even bring herself to feel any empathy for her.
This whole place was some sick Shakespearean thing with a twinge of Greek tragedy.
On her way to her own cabin, she stops short of hearing the cacophony of an angry Aphrodite child throwing a massive tantrum. She should just keep going, honestly. Thus far, her dedication to the drama in this play has been relatively low. No one liked her as much because she was this way or that way, incapable of genuine connection without the possibility of being subject to her personal dramatics. Or maybe it was simply that no one knew how to approach her long enough to figure it all out. Regardless, she stands there for quite some time with her hands in the pockets of her dark blue jeans and that anxious tapping of her feet against the ground.
She takes a deep breath in, "Okay, so I have a small chance of being yelled at. I'm a big girl - I've grown. I won't cry about it," Liv gives herself a pep talk because some people are just kind of intimidating. A lot, really. She breathes all of that sucked in air out in one puff, and just... steps up to his door and lightly knocks on it. No, no, she can just walk in. Right? Oh, but then what if he throws something at her? She pressed her ear against the door, and goodness, did she look kind of goofy doing it.
Okay. There was a calm. Perhaps where there was once a violent and wrecking tempest, there is now just confusion. Slowly, a small hand pressed against the door, she gently pulls it open whilst turning the knob. It was do or die time! He was going to tell her to get the fuck out, or maybe she will be lucky enough to be told kindly to remove herself. The love fests of Aphrodite spawn are beyond her comprehension. She only knows feelings, and she knows them well. "Are you done throwing things? Can I come in?", she inquires with warm soothing tones, ripe with genuine concern - there are no tricks here. Liv doesn't just waltz in there like she is his best friend, but she just sort of pokes her head in to make sure she'd be safe from flying objects.
What is she doing? She just got back. She's crazy. Why get caught up in other people's business? And goodness, what a mess this place is! The toe of her sandal kicks away a piece of unfortunate debris so that she could just... not trip and fall on her face.
Used to it? Probably. Everyone should be. If there wasn't some malignant force aswirl, then there was something worse than it - more insidious than any kind of evil they would face.
Drama.
She remained, for now, an observant woman with her eyes flitting from one involved individual to another. Some sickly satisfied by the encounter gone awry, others not particularly surprised by it. When all was said and done, the storm having passed through the wide open space swiftly, she stood up and took her leave. She wasn't in the business of comforting screeching sirens. There were things to do - unpack, resettle - remind herself that she was supposed to be here for some reason. That she belonged despite the fact that she couldn't bother to be anything more than a grain of sand on the beach last year. Maybe this one would be different.
Of course, she saw all of Wes' misfortunes - from the twisted love thing he had going on with Trinity, to the nervous blonde that looked like she might break down in front of him for now reason. Boy, does she know that feeling! Then again, certain children with certain parents were so Shakespearean that she can't even bring herself to feel any empathy for her.
This whole place was some sick Shakespearean thing with a twinge of Greek tragedy.
On her way to her own cabin, she stops short of hearing the cacophony of an angry Aphrodite child throwing a massive tantrum. She should just keep going, honestly. Thus far, her dedication to the drama in this play has been relatively low. No one liked her as much because she was this way or that way, incapable of genuine connection without the possibility of being subject to her personal dramatics. Or maybe it was simply that no one knew how to approach her long enough to figure it all out. Regardless, she stands there for quite some time with her hands in the pockets of her dark blue jeans and that anxious tapping of her feet against the ground.
She takes a deep breath in, "Okay, so I have a small chance of being yelled at. I'm a big girl - I've grown. I won't cry about it," Liv gives herself a pep talk because some people are just kind of intimidating. A lot, really. She breathes all of that sucked in air out in one puff, and just... steps up to his door and lightly knocks on it. No, no, she can just walk in. Right? Oh, but then what if he throws something at her? She pressed her ear against the door, and goodness, did she look kind of goofy doing it.
Okay. There was a calm. Perhaps where there was once a violent and wrecking tempest, there is now just confusion. Slowly, a small hand pressed against the door, she gently pulls it open whilst turning the knob. It was do or die time! He was going to tell her to get the fuck out, or maybe she will be lucky enough to be told kindly to remove herself. The love fests of Aphrodite spawn are beyond her comprehension. She only knows feelings, and she knows them well. "Are you done throwing things? Can I come in?", she inquires with warm soothing tones, ripe with genuine concern - there are no tricks here. Liv doesn't just waltz in there like she is his best friend, but she just sort of pokes her head in to make sure she'd be safe from flying objects.
What is she doing? She just got back. She's crazy. Why get caught up in other people's business? And goodness, what a mess this place is! The toe of her sandal kicks away a piece of unfortunate debris so that she could just... not trip and fall on her face.