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It was a typical morning for Liv. Hell, she didn't remember falling asleep, much less the first thirty minutes of waking up. The zombie child slogged her way toward the shower, took care of hygiene, and then fit together some lazy clothes. Well - that's what she did at first. The realization that her brother was coming to camp hit her as if she had been too mentally foggy from that just waking haze to recall such an important detail.
She's a daughter of Poseidon, one of the three strongest Demigods. At least in her book anyway. It would do Liv best to dress decently. She was perfectly aware of her brother's existence and has been for quite a long time. Nicholas was handsome, and his warm charisma only served to accent his good looks. Unlike Liv, he seemed to have a hang of his emotions, and he was amiable and outgoing; helpful and a protector. She's never met anyone that didn't like him for one reason or the other.
The worst part is that he didn't even try to vie for their father's attention; he simply received it in full. Something about his abilities was more innate than her own. More powerful? More natural with his personality? She didn't know what it was, but as she tugged off her loungewear for something a little more "proper" and flattering, she grumped about him under her breath.
What a pain. What a nightmare. He didn't have to be at Camp Athens when he was receiving such good graces from his father already. She pulled on her heels boots, zipped them up, and then forced herself to get out of her cabin and grab some coffee from the chow hall.
"Liv! Just the little sis I needed to see," a voice was suddenly right in front of her, and the poor woman ran right into a wall of muscle. When she stepped back and looked up, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her skull. Nicholas Bower.
A scoff fled her lips and she placed a hand on her hips in protest of his amiable approach, "We are related by blood only, Nicholas. Halfway, even. Do yourself a favor and stay out of my way. You have your lane, and I have mine. Let's keep it that way forever."
A hand rubbed at the back of Nick's neck before he spread his arms out to the side, palms facing her in surrender, "Come on, Liv, I am not here to challenge your place."
She sneered at him, "What is there to challenge, Daddy's Boy?" That said, she stepped around and left him behind to continue down her bath.
The son of Poseidon just sighed. It was going to be a long road. He had his bags with him, so before he made any appearances anywhere else, he should at least settle into his cabin. He went to go do that after Liv stormed off.
Eventually, Liv made it to the chow hall. Fortunately, not many others were there. Upon first glance, there was only Sylas, and then a busy Penelope made a beeline for the guy that very obviously wanted to be alone. All she wanted to grab was a quick cup of black coffee and then maybe go out somewhere to be by herself, but she couldn't help but gravitate toward Sylas as he was completely invaded by a blathering Penny.
Without so much as a word, and with only the click-clack of her heeled boots carrying her across the hall, she ended up at Sylas' table. Like any bully, there wasn't a reason for anything that followed. It was simply that Liv needed someone to victimize, and the redhead was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"You're in my spot." She shoved the girl's tray off of the table where it clattered on the floor, pushed her chair aside along with Penny still seated on it (not caring if she fell on her ass in the process), and placed a separate chair in its place. Then Liv plopped her ass down and drank her coffee in silence.
Sylas and Liv were not in conversation mode, but they could at least sit there and brood about their shitty lives, parents, and siblings together. Fun. The mean duo would be the least likely to draw more mouthy idiots like Penelope to them. Some people just didn't know how to mind their own business. But hey, maybe she learned today.
In the meantime, Nicholas had spent his time unpacking and getting his cabin together. It wasn't much, but hey - he was that kind of guy anyway; minimalistic. The fact that he was currently wearing a shirt went against his minimalist ideals, to be honest.
He left his cabin behind and traveled down the beaten path. Nicholas was new to Camp, but he did know where to go. While he didn't get an in-depth brief of the whole situation, he at least got a good idea of the layout. After all, he'd be bringing the Camp together for a training session sometime today. He thought that it might be a great way to resolve some growing tensions in the group, and maybe get the Demigods to do something other than fuck and fight.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Anyway, he did get the approval from Poseidon to go ahead and get it started. Nicholas was a natural leader that sometimes got a bit carried away in such a role. If no other Demigod would step up to the plate, he would take the whole thing over and whip them into shape. It's just how he rolls. Some would call that arrogance, but he called it a passion to always be moving forward. He liked to be active. He didn't want to dwell in any drama or whatever crap was going on to get the whole Camp put through Trials and one Demigod sent to Tartarus.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and roamed when he came across a clearing. He brought a hand up and swept away a thin branch that hung from a tree - and like Camp Athens was reading his mind - there it was. A training arena. It wasn't anything grand. It was made of stone with pillars that were sort of dilapidated from age. There was sand in the pit and some seating in the form of stone benches.
Everything a Demigod would need to fight their battles was within reach; weapons, the elements, and much more.
"How to get them to come without pulling the Poseidon card," he muttered to himself as his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't want to just be known as the Son of Poseidon. He was his own man, too. He had his own drive and desire apart from his father's. He was not the Camp Athens babysitter.
She's a daughter of Poseidon, one of the three strongest Demigods. At least in her book anyway. It would do Liv best to dress decently. She was perfectly aware of her brother's existence and has been for quite a long time. Nicholas was handsome, and his warm charisma only served to accent his good looks. Unlike Liv, he seemed to have a hang of his emotions, and he was amiable and outgoing; helpful and a protector. She's never met anyone that didn't like him for one reason or the other.
The worst part is that he didn't even try to vie for their father's attention; he simply received it in full. Something about his abilities was more innate than her own. More powerful? More natural with his personality? She didn't know what it was, but as she tugged off her loungewear for something a little more "proper" and flattering, she grumped about him under her breath.
What a pain. What a nightmare. He didn't have to be at Camp Athens when he was receiving such good graces from his father already. She pulled on her heels boots, zipped them up, and then forced herself to get out of her cabin and grab some coffee from the chow hall.
"Liv! Just the little sis I needed to see," a voice was suddenly right in front of her, and the poor woman ran right into a wall of muscle. When she stepped back and looked up, her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her skull. Nicholas Bower.
A scoff fled her lips and she placed a hand on her hips in protest of his amiable approach, "We are related by blood only, Nicholas. Halfway, even. Do yourself a favor and stay out of my way. You have your lane, and I have mine. Let's keep it that way forever."
A hand rubbed at the back of Nick's neck before he spread his arms out to the side, palms facing her in surrender, "Come on, Liv, I am not here to challenge your place."
She sneered at him, "What is there to challenge, Daddy's Boy?" That said, she stepped around and left him behind to continue down her bath.
The son of Poseidon just sighed. It was going to be a long road. He had his bags with him, so before he made any appearances anywhere else, he should at least settle into his cabin. He went to go do that after Liv stormed off.
Eventually, Liv made it to the chow hall. Fortunately, not many others were there. Upon first glance, there was only Sylas, and then a busy Penelope made a beeline for the guy that very obviously wanted to be alone. All she wanted to grab was a quick cup of black coffee and then maybe go out somewhere to be by herself, but she couldn't help but gravitate toward Sylas as he was completely invaded by a blathering Penny.
Without so much as a word, and with only the click-clack of her heeled boots carrying her across the hall, she ended up at Sylas' table. Like any bully, there wasn't a reason for anything that followed. It was simply that Liv needed someone to victimize, and the redhead was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"You're in my spot." She shoved the girl's tray off of the table where it clattered on the floor, pushed her chair aside along with Penny still seated on it (not caring if she fell on her ass in the process), and placed a separate chair in its place. Then Liv plopped her ass down and drank her coffee in silence.
Sylas and Liv were not in conversation mode, but they could at least sit there and brood about their shitty lives, parents, and siblings together. Fun. The mean duo would be the least likely to draw more mouthy idiots like Penelope to them. Some people just didn't know how to mind their own business. But hey, maybe she learned today.
In the meantime, Nicholas had spent his time unpacking and getting his cabin together. It wasn't much, but hey - he was that kind of guy anyway; minimalistic. The fact that he was currently wearing a shirt went against his minimalist ideals, to be honest.
He left his cabin behind and traveled down the beaten path. Nicholas was new to Camp, but he did know where to go. While he didn't get an in-depth brief of the whole situation, he at least got a good idea of the layout. After all, he'd be bringing the Camp together for a training session sometime today. He thought that it might be a great way to resolve some growing tensions in the group, and maybe get the Demigods to do something other than fuck and fight.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Anyway, he did get the approval from Poseidon to go ahead and get it started. Nicholas was a natural leader that sometimes got a bit carried away in such a role. If no other Demigod would step up to the plate, he would take the whole thing over and whip them into shape. It's just how he rolls. Some would call that arrogance, but he called it a passion to always be moving forward. He liked to be active. He didn't want to dwell in any drama or whatever crap was going on to get the whole Camp put through Trials and one Demigod sent to Tartarus.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and roamed when he came across a clearing. He brought a hand up and swept away a thin branch that hung from a tree - and like Camp Athens was reading his mind - there it was. A training arena. It wasn't anything grand. It was made of stone with pillars that were sort of dilapidated from age. There was sand in the pit and some seating in the form of stone benches.
Everything a Demigod would need to fight their battles was within reach; weapons, the elements, and much more.
"How to get them to come without pulling the Poseidon card," he muttered to himself as his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't want to just be known as the Son of Poseidon. He was his own man, too. He had his own drive and desire apart from his father's. He was not the Camp Athens babysitter.