Setting
Default Location for Camp Athens: The Second Year
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
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Camp Athens is a part of 
Camp Athens: The Second Year.
26 Characters Here
Sylas Astor [56] The Enigma
Andromeda Bolton [53] The Dauntless
Sloane Astor [52] The Prodigy
Wesley Preston [49] The Teddy Bear
Evelyn Masters [48] The X Factor
Nicholas Bower [47] The Earthshaker
Trinity Wallace [46] The Fiery Heart
Rae Meadows [45] The Moon
Liam O'Connor [44] The Bruiser
Cherise Boyse [38] The Sun
Start Character Here »
xxxxxxHadesx|xoutfitx|x#05105E
Mason looked up to the foreign voice asking about a familiar person. Something in him was ready to jump to defence until he recognized the girl and his expression softened only slightly. "Yeah, theyâre healing up nicely." He averted his gaze to the wall, not known for his sociability. In a perfect world that would be the end of the conversation with a nice little bow tie, but since it was Andy and he was appreciative of her helpâŠ
"Still a little sore. But mostly just bruises." Andy appeared in a timely fashion and sat by him. "Thanks again for your help. I'm sure Daniel is grateful I'm not dead." Mason scoffed at the understatement of the century. Beyond that, he didn't chip in or explain himself. "I'm glad he has you for a friend."
Mason quirked up a brow then turned his head to Cherise with the same expression. She wasn't bad and obviously she was helpful but...Mason wasn't that impressed. But whatever floated Daniel's boat.
It didn't look like there were a great many deal of people for the sun-child to sit with. Probably Wes and Ethan, but Wes was packing food away like a starved hog and -gone now and Ethan was - well Ethan. Mason sighed out feeling stranded and obliged to point to the seat across from him with his fork. "Help yourself if you want." But he wasn't promising a good conversation or company. Nor would he take offence if she strolled on and sat elsewhere. Though she struck him as one that would search for conversation. At least with Andy, and Trinity if the angry blonde decided to join them. But there, he had been civil for the day. His part was done.
Mason ate in content silence. Not because he was afraid it would get awkward or anything, but just to let the girls go about their chatter and because he genuinely didn't have anything worthy to say.
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To say that the taxi didn't drop them off nearly close enough was an understatement. Blair had no idea how deep into the woods this ridiculous camp was, but it was already putting her in a sour mood. She wore the wrong shoes, had way too many bags and the only time she liked being outside was if it involved the beach or a pool. So far, she saw neither of those. And if one more mosquito got anywhere near her, she might flip.
There wasn't a path... Or if it was a path, Blair couldn't tell. She was stepping over fallen branches and ducking under low hanging trees. She trusted Lochlan to lead them deeper because her sense of direction was abysmal. "Whose idea was it to come here again?" She groaned as her heels sunk into the dirt again for about the millionth time. "No one goes to camp after they turn 12 anyway. Why couldn't it be 'Athens Resort'?" She stopped momentarily, having a realization. "We're not sleeping in tents are we?"
Trudging only a couple of feet ahead of his sister ready to lend a hand or shoulder of support if she twisted her ankle in those heels, Lochlan was equally as unsatisfied with their temporary placement. Every whinge coming from his sister, though adding to his own irritation, was right. Why were they here, at a camp, when they were adults that could be in a hundred other places? More to the point, why didn't he tell their father to shove it? "I didn't give your dad the pamphlet for this place." He knew Blair wasn't to blame. Besides, when she had an idea she was usually the type to own it shamelessly and with pride, especially with her gifts of smarts. But somebody had to tip the guy off. Beyond that, he tried not to add to his half-sister's complaints and focused on getting out of this damned jungle.
"He's your sperm donor too," she scoffed as she yanked her rolling suitcase over a rock. Blair was a little bit spoiled... Just a little. She didn't always get everything she asked for. But she was never sent to summer camps or expected to go fishing. If she wanted to spend her days inside shopping or watching movies, then no one told her otherwise. She wasn't an outdoorsy type of person. Hell, she didn't even know if she owned a pair of jeans and hiking boots to survive life at camp. Obviously, she was being forced to broaden her horizons, regardless if she liked it or not.
He sighed out hating to look the part of a confused tourist, but dug in his pocket to consult a scrunched up map he was sure he didn't need. He pursed his lips. "So there's a main hall thing annnnd cabins." Lochlan discarded the map messily again into his pocket and glanced back at Blair. "Wanna shop around for our new home?" Because personally, Lochlan would rather unload all his bags before trying to eat some disgusting cheap food.
"I am a little hungry," she confessed while brushing loose curls out of her face. That was more physical exertion than she had done in the past year... Excluding certain recreational activities. The mile, or however long trek into camp was enough to build up an appetite.
But as it turned out Lochlan wasnât really asking, because he pushed on in the direction of cabins to browse what would best be suitable for their standards. And the perk was, if he saw something they liked and it was preoccupied, he could just tell them to move.
Whether or not Blair was up for more trudging about the camp, she didn't have a choice. Not unless she was wanting to misplace her brother and get stuck mingling with others on her own. Not likely. She groaned as she pivoted to follow after Lochlan, her stomach growling in protest. Every few steps her bag would get caught on a rock, or branch, or slam into the back of her heels. Her ankles were going to be bruised at that rate.
Soon enough, they found something outwardly sufficing. Lochlan unlocked the door and nudged it open since Blair was over encumbered with excessive luggage. "Home, sweet home," he said without any hint of amusement. He dumped his bags to the side and took some of Blair's from her, treating them a bit more delicately since he could imagine the scolding he'd get for throwing them around.
Blair didn't argue as her brother took her bags. She made her way over to the ancient sofa and collapsed onto the lumpy cushions with a sigh. Once her feet were off the ground, resting on the armrest, she kicked off her heels and tried to relax best she could.
No matter how he worked or set up, the big question was eating at him. That's why he spun to Blair abruptly, "So why are we here? You're the smart one," he said, the irritation evident in his voice. She may have been undeserving of it, but it wouldn't be the first time their attitudes collided. And she was the one deemed intelligent by birth.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, because me in my infinite wisdom could have convinced Daddy to change his mind... I thought manipulation was your power." Blair scoffed as she picked the dirt out from under her nails. Sure, she had the stronger pull when it came to their dad. He always resented Lochlan's existence because of Hera's meddling, but that didn't mean he did whatever she wanted. If he did, they wouldn't be there.
Blair exhaled deeply as she swung her legs off the armrest and turned to face him. "Look. I tried to convince him to let us stay home, but he wouldn't listen. Athena got it in his head that this was the best place for us... me," she corrected. "And he knew I wouldn't go anywhere without you. So, blame me all you want, little brother, but I wasn't going to suffer this hell hole alone."
Lochlan rose a brow but honestly wasn't surprised in Athena's part or his sister dragging him through the mud with her. "I guess I should have manipulated him. Spared us all. Don't think that'd sit well with the goddess though." Even then, a part of him wouldn't want Blair off in some camp alone and he wanted to get away from home.
With that, she pushed off the couch, moving to her feet. "I'm going to go claim the biggest bedroom and maybe I have something in these bags more suited for camp... maybe." Blair took her bags and dragged them into the larger of the two bedrooms. She threw them down on the bed and began sifting through their contents. One thing was for certain, Blair didn't think camp was going to be so... campy. She didn't pack for camp, more for a cruise or long vacation.
He hated being in the dark so while his sister claimed the biggest room of course, Lochlan was left trying to clue it all together for himself. What was with the timing and this camp in general? Apparently it was warranted special for them but what the hell did that actually mean. Their father was crap on the whole debriefing unless Blair got the extended version.
Eventually, she found something suitable and put it on, before rejoining Lochlan. "Will you take me to go find something to eat or did you plan on staying here all day and sulking?" Blair gave him a playful smirk as she took a pair of sunglasses from her purse and put them on. "Don't make me suffer this alone."
He rolled his eyes and offered an arm before his own smirk finally showed. "We'll own this place in minutes." Lochlan walked his sister out and along the way, there were a couple of real neighbor-y scenes. Some dramatic and some far too cozy and warm like they jumped out of happyville. Lochlan smirked more thinking such a place would be a treat for him. But he kept dragging Blair along until they could meet the right people to get a foot in the door. Or at least, until they reached the hall.
As they made their way to the main hall Blair noticed the passing campers. The girls didn't catch her attention, but boy oh boy did the guys. They passed one with short hair and tan skin. He looked about as interesting as a saltine cracker, but cute. He might have been boring and untouched like new play-doh, but that just meant she could work him into whatever she wanted. If she wanted. But whatever attention was on him was sidetracked at the sight of a very tall and handsome man. He had long brunette hair. Gods did she love long hair. And that little cleft in his chin could make her weak in the knees.
Seamlessly, like she had done so many times before, Blair slipped her arm from Lochlan's and gave him a little shove forward so they didn't look like they were together. Luckily Fabio's attention seemed focused elsewhere, so he didn't notice her approach. Just as she was about to pass him Blair just so happened to trip. Oh dear, how clumsy. She stumbled into him in such a way that it would be impossible for him not to catch her. She grabbed hold of his arms to steady herself... And my were his biceps large.
Blair regained her footing, standing chest to chest with her savior. She smiled coyly looking up at him. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." Then she giggled in a flirty way as she brushed her raven hair out of her face, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head. "The outdoors and I aren't really simpatico. But I wouldn't mind being on a first name basis with you." She smirked, quirking a brow as she extended her right hand toward him. "I'm Blair."
To say that the taxi didn't drop them off nearly close enough was an understatement. Blair had no idea how deep into the woods this ridiculous camp was, but it was already putting her in a sour mood. She wore the wrong shoes, had way too many bags and the only time she liked being outside was if it involved the beach or a pool. So far, she saw neither of those. And if one more mosquito got anywhere near her, she might flip.
There wasn't a path... Or if it was a path, Blair couldn't tell. She was stepping over fallen branches and ducking under low hanging trees. She trusted Lochlan to lead them deeper because her sense of direction was abysmal. "Whose idea was it to come here again?" She groaned as her heels sunk into the dirt again for about the millionth time. "No one goes to camp after they turn 12 anyway. Why couldn't it be 'Athens Resort'?" She stopped momentarily, having a realization. "We're not sleeping in tents are we?"
Trudging only a couple of feet ahead of his sister ready to lend a hand or shoulder of support if she twisted her ankle in those heels, Lochlan was equally as unsatisfied with their temporary placement. Every whinge coming from his sister, though adding to his own irritation, was right. Why were they here, at a camp, when they were adults that could be in a hundred other places? More to the point, why didn't he tell their father to shove it? "I didn't give your dad the pamphlet for this place." He knew Blair wasn't to blame. Besides, when she had an idea she was usually the type to own it shamelessly and with pride, especially with her gifts of smarts. But somebody had to tip the guy off. Beyond that, he tried not to add to his half-sister's complaints and focused on getting out of this damned jungle.
"He's your sperm donor too," she scoffed as she yanked her rolling suitcase over a rock. Blair was a little bit spoiled... Just a little. She didn't always get everything she asked for. But she was never sent to summer camps or expected to go fishing. If she wanted to spend her days inside shopping or watching movies, then no one told her otherwise. She wasn't an outdoorsy type of person. Hell, she didn't even know if she owned a pair of jeans and hiking boots to survive life at camp. Obviously, she was being forced to broaden her horizons, regardless if she liked it or not.
He sighed out hating to look the part of a confused tourist, but dug in his pocket to consult a scrunched up map he was sure he didn't need. He pursed his lips. "So there's a main hall thing annnnd cabins." Lochlan discarded the map messily again into his pocket and glanced back at Blair. "Wanna shop around for our new home?" Because personally, Lochlan would rather unload all his bags before trying to eat some disgusting cheap food.
"I am a little hungry," she confessed while brushing loose curls out of her face. That was more physical exertion than she had done in the past year... Excluding certain recreational activities. The mile, or however long trek into camp was enough to build up an appetite.
But as it turned out Lochlan wasnât really asking, because he pushed on in the direction of cabins to browse what would best be suitable for their standards. And the perk was, if he saw something they liked and it was preoccupied, he could just tell them to move.
Whether or not Blair was up for more trudging about the camp, she didn't have a choice. Not unless she was wanting to misplace her brother and get stuck mingling with others on her own. Not likely. She groaned as she pivoted to follow after Lochlan, her stomach growling in protest. Every few steps her bag would get caught on a rock, or branch, or slam into the back of her heels. Her ankles were going to be bruised at that rate.
Soon enough, they found something outwardly sufficing. Lochlan unlocked the door and nudged it open since Blair was over encumbered with excessive luggage. "Home, sweet home," he said without any hint of amusement. He dumped his bags to the side and took some of Blair's from her, treating them a bit more delicately since he could imagine the scolding he'd get for throwing them around.
Blair didn't argue as her brother took her bags. She made her way over to the ancient sofa and collapsed onto the lumpy cushions with a sigh. Once her feet were off the ground, resting on the armrest, she kicked off her heels and tried to relax best she could.
No matter how he worked or set up, the big question was eating at him. That's why he spun to Blair abruptly, "So why are we here? You're the smart one," he said, the irritation evident in his voice. She may have been undeserving of it, but it wouldn't be the first time their attitudes collided. And she was the one deemed intelligent by birth.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, because me in my infinite wisdom could have convinced Daddy to change his mind... I thought manipulation was your power." Blair scoffed as she picked the dirt out from under her nails. Sure, she had the stronger pull when it came to their dad. He always resented Lochlan's existence because of Hera's meddling, but that didn't mean he did whatever she wanted. If he did, they wouldn't be there.
Blair exhaled deeply as she swung her legs off the armrest and turned to face him. "Look. I tried to convince him to let us stay home, but he wouldn't listen. Athena got it in his head that this was the best place for us... me," she corrected. "And he knew I wouldn't go anywhere without you. So, blame me all you want, little brother, but I wasn't going to suffer this hell hole alone."
Lochlan rose a brow but honestly wasn't surprised in Athena's part or his sister dragging him through the mud with her. "I guess I should have manipulated him. Spared us all. Don't think that'd sit well with the goddess though." Even then, a part of him wouldn't want Blair off in some camp alone and he wanted to get away from home.
With that, she pushed off the couch, moving to her feet. "I'm going to go claim the biggest bedroom and maybe I have something in these bags more suited for camp... maybe." Blair took her bags and dragged them into the larger of the two bedrooms. She threw them down on the bed and began sifting through their contents. One thing was for certain, Blair didn't think camp was going to be so... campy. She didn't pack for camp, more for a cruise or long vacation.
He hated being in the dark so while his sister claimed the biggest room of course, Lochlan was left trying to clue it all together for himself. What was with the timing and this camp in general? Apparently it was warranted special for them but what the hell did that actually mean. Their father was crap on the whole debriefing unless Blair got the extended version.
Eventually, she found something suitable and put it on, before rejoining Lochlan. "Will you take me to go find something to eat or did you plan on staying here all day and sulking?" Blair gave him a playful smirk as she took a pair of sunglasses from her purse and put them on. "Don't make me suffer this alone."
He rolled his eyes and offered an arm before his own smirk finally showed. "We'll own this place in minutes." Lochlan walked his sister out and along the way, there were a couple of real neighbor-y scenes. Some dramatic and some far too cozy and warm like they jumped out of happyville. Lochlan smirked more thinking such a place would be a treat for him. But he kept dragging Blair along until they could meet the right people to get a foot in the door. Or at least, until they reached the hall.
As they made their way to the main hall Blair noticed the passing campers. The girls didn't catch her attention, but boy oh boy did the guys. They passed one with short hair and tan skin. He looked about as interesting as a saltine cracker, but cute. He might have been boring and untouched like new play-doh, but that just meant she could work him into whatever she wanted. If she wanted. But whatever attention was on him was sidetracked at the sight of a very tall and handsome man. He had long brunette hair. Gods did she love long hair. And that little cleft in his chin could make her weak in the knees.
Seamlessly, like she had done so many times before, Blair slipped her arm from Lochlan's and gave him a little shove forward so they didn't look like they were together. Luckily Fabio's attention seemed focused elsewhere, so he didn't notice her approach. Just as she was about to pass him Blair just so happened to trip. Oh dear, how clumsy. She stumbled into him in such a way that it would be impossible for him not to catch her. She grabbed hold of his arms to steady herself... And my were his biceps large.
Blair regained her footing, standing chest to chest with her savior. She smiled coyly looking up at him. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry." Then she giggled in a flirty way as she brushed her raven hair out of her face, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head. "The outdoors and I aren't really simpatico. But I wouldn't mind being on a first name basis with you." She smirked, quirking a brow as she extended her right hand toward him. "I'm Blair."
xxxxxxHerax|xoutfitx|x#380011
The routine was all too familiar, so Lochlan just rolled his eyes not bearing to witness his sister act like a floozy to get closer to guys. Not that he was entirely innocent in that department. Although, unlike his sister, he preferred some footing or at least sense of what the hell this place was actually about before springing into flirting, flings, etcetera. He buried his hands in his pockets and walked on as naturally as the circumstances permitted.
Normally he was at utter ease and adaptable in new places. But there was something about this camp that he didn't like or trust. But since he was on his own, he guessed it was his own mystery to solve.
That about led him to some crossroads. He could go by more cabins, to the direction of the hall or follow a lonesome blonde. Lochlan smirked a little to himself as if it was even a real decision and warped himself in the shadows of the trees. He travelled along with the girl, silent and slick in the darkness, and where he couldn't follow, he waited and watched. She was young, blonde and particularly doe-eyed. Once she reached the stables, he emerged from shadow, keeping himself a couple decent feet away from her to avoid spooking her and the animals. Lochlan double-checked over his shoulder then back ahead to her. She looked out of sorts, lost almost, if not definitely lost in thought. Somebody's cute wandering little sister maybe. Lochlan cleared his throat and tilted to the side to catch her eyes. "Hi there." He flashed her a warm smile and straightened up. "I'm...I'm completely lost and confused. I've lost my bearings," he said with a nervous laugh. "Would you be able to help me out. Iâm looking for the hall."
In such a short encounter Lochlan guessed she was a little odd. All the more reason for him to hope that her friend group or siblings were concerned for her and full of lookers. Lochlan tried not to be deterred by her silence and averted his gaze to the nearest creature and patted the neck of the horse with a smile. "I like horses. Powerful creatures that demand respect to be ridden and it's a two-way streak." He leaned his arm on the stall and his hand opened up for her. "I'm Lochlan." Once their hands enclosed, Lochlan let his powers invade her. He wasn't about to get the silent treatment by this little lady. "And I think this is the part where you tell me your name." Typically the compulsion would creep up to the mind, and ache like a bad itch until she would say her name. All this for such a simple request as to get the introverts name. Heck, to get a word out of her.
Lochlan wasn't one to enjoy being out of the loop or take such early rejection, hence the use of his powers.
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By the gods, was Nicholas secretly blessed by Aphrodite before being tossed into Camp Athens? He mustâve been because every time he turns around, another woman is running right into himâ or he into her, depending on how one reads the situation.
Here he was just walking; hands in his pockets, a hum in his throat, thoughts in his mind about all that had transpired thus far in his short time here. The redhead, for whom he is cursing himself for not catching the name of⊠the Aphrodite girl that he had unintentionally insulted. Possibly. He thought to himself, it couldnât get any worse. Right?. Or better? He placed an index finger on his chin as he wondered, Was it good or bad luck? His head went from side to side, as though weighing the thoughts in his head. Well, beautiful women running into you doesnât happen every day. Then again... he frowned, Would the Aphrodite child tell everyone heâs a perv later? He made a disgusted look at no one in particular and judging by his motions, he was having a conversation in his own head anyway. Iâm not a perv⊠it wasnât my fault.
It was right in the middle of starting to ponder the redhead when his instincts kicked in and an arm dashed down to brace the back of Blair. A hand folded gently around her waist, and he brought her up and helped her regain her balance. What seemed like half a heartbeat, her fingers grasped his biceps and they were intimately close. Not that heâd complain much.
His internal voice asked, Am I the child of Poseidon and Aphrodite?
Since the woman seemed to revel in the close proximity, he made no real motion to create additional space between them. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," she apologized, but the way she smiled and giggled said otherwise. Sheâs not that sorry, if she is at all. "The outdoors and I aren't really simpatico. But I wouldn't mind being on a first-name basis with you."
Simpatico. Simpatico. What did that mean? It must be French, he thought. No one said he was the sharpest tool in the shed, just one of the sturdiest. He just chuckled at that and pretended he understood, but she could probably tell that his brain wasnât all that intellectual. Not that it appeared she was looking for some profound conversation anyway. Not with the way sheâs flirting and hanging onto him without any shame at all.
"I'm Blair," she introduced herself, and he took her hand and gave it a firm but still semi-gentle shake. She was a woman, after all. He was ungodly strong and had to mind himself.
"Nicholas, but you can just call me Nick," he responded as he finally stepped back. It just occurred to him that he should, at the very least, give the other demigods a warning before just summoning them to train out of the blue. Thatâd be starting out on the wrong foot with a lot of the others, and he may already end up in hot water with the guys depending on who all these hot women belonged to. They just had to belong to someone.
Nick wanted to stay and flirt a little, but he also had a job to do in Camp Athens. He looked at her and tilted his head in thought. You know what? He could do both. Ah, but typically he wasnât the quickie sort of guy, even though she was certainly tempting. So tempting.
"Coming, Blair?" he inquired as he began to walk backward. He eventually turned around to head for the main office of the Camp, which was just past the chow hall. A short walk.
Blair quirked a brow at his offer. Well that didnât take long. Perhaps it was she that was the daughter of Aphrodite. Then again, it was never women who struggled to find someone to warm their bed. Hell, what better way to christen camp than to have a little fun with Fabio. Sure, he didnât seem like the smartest guy out there, but she wasnât flirting with him for his brains. Dumb boys were always the easiest to get what she wanted from anyway. So, she said nothing but followed after him, wherever he led her.
They arrived at their destination; a small office that was empty save for the P.A. system. Thatâs what he needed. Once he shut the door, he turned toward the raven-haired woman and smirked. If she was looking for a dumb guy that would just easily hand over the reaffirmation that she could have any dumb guy she wanted - well, she certainly got it.
Heâs going to blame the jacked-up hormones on the aftereffects of Aphroditeâs daughter for what happens next. He hooked his hands under her bottom, hoisted her up once she had her arms wrapped around his neck, and walked her toward the counter with the P.A. system, "Iâm normally more of a romantic, but I had a run-in with the daughter of Aphrodite, and I am a bit⊠on edge." And that was hardly even the tip of the iceberg.
Blairâs coy act faded away when they were in the privacy of the office. She had already gotten him and she was far from coy. As Nick scooped her up, her legs instinctually wrapped around his waist. Her fingers snaked through his dark locks and gave them a playful tug. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, dollface."
He released her, moved between her legs as she settled on the counter, but he leaned off to the side and past her to press a button to turn the system on. His voice would echo through the entire camp - inside the facilities and outside.
"Good morning, Campers," he began then went on to introduce himself, "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training." He kept one of his hands on her thighs and as he continued to address the camp Blairâs hands trailed down his chest. They stopped when they found the top of his jeans. With a smirk, she began to unzip them. "It is now...," he paused and looked at the watch he clearly didnât have on his right wrist, "...something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
Being the sturdy, but not sharpest tool, in the shed - he forgot to turn the P.A. system off, "Whyâd you have to wear pants?" He sighed at that, but it was playfully disappointed rather than actually disappointed. But lowkey⊠he was a little disappointed.
"I want you to work for your meal." In the confines of the small office, Blair quickly turned from prey to predator. She wasnât some naive girl who didnât know how boys were, but a woman who knew exactly what she wanted from a man. A minx. She grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling him close so their bodies pressed together. "And Iâm not fast food," she purred, her lips so close to his that when she spoke they brushed ever so slightly.
Blair trailed her lips along his jaw and down his neck, stopping at his shirt collar when her gaze fell to his hand still holding the P.A. button. "Boys," she scoffed softly under her breath as she took his hand off the button and placed it upon her chest. "I hope youâre not expecting this to be over quickly."
Ah, she was a feisty one. Dominant, too. Itâs a bit awkward for him, but it was also a blessing. Nicholas didnât want to think about anything - if he even thought at all. In fact, he didnât even notice that she removed his hand from the PA system button, only that it was now on her chest and he was happy about that. "We have a couple hours." He seized her hair at the back of her head and gently tugged it back to expose her neck, "Iâll try my best to leave you intact for training." It wasnât a promise that he was likely to fulfill.
Only the gods know how much time was spent in the P.A. office, but it smelled like sex. Whatever was on the counter was on the floor to make room for two worn-out Demigods. Sleep after physical excursion was only logical.
Unlike Nick, who fell asleep shortly after finishing, Blair just laid on the table looking up at the ceiling. In her typical fashion, whenever she was faced with situations she had no control over or didnât like, sheâd backpedal into one of her vices, sex in particular. For her, it was a coping mechanism. She didnât have control over her life, but she could have control when it came to her sex life. It wouldnât make sense to many people, but it was the weird sort of fucked up way she functioned. And it worked.
Nick rolled over and ended up on the floor with a loud âbangâ, which was followed by an audible groan. "Shi--...," he started to curse but let it trail off as he rubbed his face, rolled onto his back, and pulled himself up to his feet. When the haze of being tired eventually cleared up, he looked at the small clock mounted on the wall just above the P.A. system.
4:23 pm. "Ah, shit," he cursed while running a hand through his long messy hair, and began to dress. In the midst of all this, he would toss some items of clothing onto Blair. "We gotta go."
Blair was barely able to hop off the table before Nick started throwing clothes at her. She caught the first couple of pieces. "Alright, Jesus," she grumbled as she tried to juggle the clothes in her hands and catch whatever else he tossed. She managed to hook her bra on her finger, but things began to slip from her grasp. She set the pile down on the table as she started pulling on her undergarments. "I donât think daddy is going to kill you for being a little late."
"Have you met Poseidon?" Heâd wait for her, as it was only natural not to leave a woman cold after sex. Even women like Blair. Since she wasnât adept on her feet, or so she claimed, he grabbed her wrist and pulled them both into a light jog toward the arena.
Blair had just barely pulled on her pants when he took her hand and dragged her out of the office. At the rate he was going, she just barely managed to scoop up her purse and cardigan. She definitely was not the running or jogging type and punctuality was not something she worried herself over. Blair was more of the fashionably late-type, not the rush to grab a taxi type. Halfway there she scoffed and jerked her arm free.
If Nick wanted to race to the arena like an idiot he could, but sex was enough physical excursion. Especially if he planned on her training. That was a whole other battle. So rather than wearing herself out any further, Blair freed herself of the meathead and took her own sweet time getting there. She saw what direction he headed in, so it was easy enough to follow while she adjusted her appearance to look a little more presentable⊠as much as possible anyway.
Nicholas made it to the arena with Blair not trailing too far behind. He had gotten dressed in everything but his shirt, but as a beach boy, he hardly cared. He had some scars and a large tattoo on his right side. Otherwise, he was a very typical musclehead - all brawn, and as Blair figured out, no brain. At least, no brain for intellectual stuff like books and shit. He didnât need all that when he knew that his place would eventually be alongside his biological father.
Once Blair arrived, she made her way over to the stands and took a seat. And in typical snobby girl fashion, she put on her sunglasses and a resting bitch face. She crossed her right leg over her left as she sifted through her purse for a sucker. Strawberry, her favorite. She plucked the wrapper off the candy and then placed it between her lips. Perhaps giving Nick the best sex of his life and disappearing into the crowd would get her out of training. She could hope.
He tried to place himself in a place where he could be heard at all, which wasnât hard because he could certainly bellow his voice to command attention. "As I stated before, I am Nicholas Bower, son of Poseidon. As youâve heard, I will be assisting you all in your training. The gods have all agreed that Camp Athens has ventured away from its original purpose," he scratched the back of his neck as he parroted the words he was given to relay. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is." He gave everyone his notorious finger guns gesture at that.
With that out of the way, he smirked, "With that out of the way, welcome to the training arena." He held his arms out to gesture to the massive structure. "It has magical properties that allow observers to be unaffected by powerful influences and/or abilities. So, you can go ham on each other in here." He shook his head from side to side, then jabbed an index finger toward them all, "No killing. No harm to life, limb, or eyesight. Yadda yadda. Healers will be on standby."
Nicholas paused to give everyone a moment to digest everything before he continued, "The arenaâs unique property allows it to transform into an environment best suited for the pair of demigods. That means, unless a gladiatorial style arena best suits both of you, this empty space will not be your environment. All weapons, elements, and anything else both Demigods might need, will be provided for you. Though if you have your own weapons, you are welcome to bring them with you."
He stopped because he had to think about everything that he could possibly be missing. He pointed a finger up in the air, "We are going to see where youâre at in terms of Demigod skills, so our first training is a spar. To avoid favoritism, the pairings will be random. So, everyone come and grab a token." He produced a pouch (which he was honestly surprised he remembered), and shook it. He reached in and pulled a blue one, then handed it to the next Demigod for the drawing. "If you grab a blue one, youâll join me in the arena for the first dual."
Blair scoffed, rolling her eyes as she moved to her feet. She held the lollipop in her mouth as she wormed her way past other campers to grab her token and be done with it. She didnât bother with the pomp and circumstance of digging around to find what token spoke spoke to her. Her fingers tightened on the first piece she felt and pulled it out to find that she had silver. Well, at least she wasnât first. Silver lining she supposed. Blair tucked the token into her pocket before returning to her seat.
Here he was just walking; hands in his pockets, a hum in his throat, thoughts in his mind about all that had transpired thus far in his short time here. The redhead, for whom he is cursing himself for not catching the name of⊠the Aphrodite girl that he had unintentionally insulted. Possibly. He thought to himself, it couldnât get any worse. Right?. Or better? He placed an index finger on his chin as he wondered, Was it good or bad luck? His head went from side to side, as though weighing the thoughts in his head. Well, beautiful women running into you doesnât happen every day. Then again... he frowned, Would the Aphrodite child tell everyone heâs a perv later? He made a disgusted look at no one in particular and judging by his motions, he was having a conversation in his own head anyway. Iâm not a perv⊠it wasnât my fault.
It was right in the middle of starting to ponder the redhead when his instincts kicked in and an arm dashed down to brace the back of Blair. A hand folded gently around her waist, and he brought her up and helped her regain her balance. What seemed like half a heartbeat, her fingers grasped his biceps and they were intimately close. Not that heâd complain much.
His internal voice asked, Am I the child of Poseidon and Aphrodite?
Since the woman seemed to revel in the close proximity, he made no real motion to create additional space between them. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry," she apologized, but the way she smiled and giggled said otherwise. Sheâs not that sorry, if she is at all. "The outdoors and I aren't really simpatico. But I wouldn't mind being on a first-name basis with you."
Simpatico. Simpatico. What did that mean? It must be French, he thought. No one said he was the sharpest tool in the shed, just one of the sturdiest. He just chuckled at that and pretended he understood, but she could probably tell that his brain wasnât all that intellectual. Not that it appeared she was looking for some profound conversation anyway. Not with the way sheâs flirting and hanging onto him without any shame at all.
"I'm Blair," she introduced herself, and he took her hand and gave it a firm but still semi-gentle shake. She was a woman, after all. He was ungodly strong and had to mind himself.
"Nicholas, but you can just call me Nick," he responded as he finally stepped back. It just occurred to him that he should, at the very least, give the other demigods a warning before just summoning them to train out of the blue. Thatâd be starting out on the wrong foot with a lot of the others, and he may already end up in hot water with the guys depending on who all these hot women belonged to. They just had to belong to someone.
Nick wanted to stay and flirt a little, but he also had a job to do in Camp Athens. He looked at her and tilted his head in thought. You know what? He could do both. Ah, but typically he wasnât the quickie sort of guy, even though she was certainly tempting. So tempting.
"Coming, Blair?" he inquired as he began to walk backward. He eventually turned around to head for the main office of the Camp, which was just past the chow hall. A short walk.
Blair quirked a brow at his offer. Well that didnât take long. Perhaps it was she that was the daughter of Aphrodite. Then again, it was never women who struggled to find someone to warm their bed. Hell, what better way to christen camp than to have a little fun with Fabio. Sure, he didnât seem like the smartest guy out there, but she wasnât flirting with him for his brains. Dumb boys were always the easiest to get what she wanted from anyway. So, she said nothing but followed after him, wherever he led her.
They arrived at their destination; a small office that was empty save for the P.A. system. Thatâs what he needed. Once he shut the door, he turned toward the raven-haired woman and smirked. If she was looking for a dumb guy that would just easily hand over the reaffirmation that she could have any dumb guy she wanted - well, she certainly got it.
Heâs going to blame the jacked-up hormones on the aftereffects of Aphroditeâs daughter for what happens next. He hooked his hands under her bottom, hoisted her up once she had her arms wrapped around his neck, and walked her toward the counter with the P.A. system, "Iâm normally more of a romantic, but I had a run-in with the daughter of Aphrodite, and I am a bit⊠on edge." And that was hardly even the tip of the iceberg.
Blairâs coy act faded away when they were in the privacy of the office. She had already gotten him and she was far from coy. As Nick scooped her up, her legs instinctually wrapped around his waist. Her fingers snaked through his dark locks and gave them a playful tug. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, dollface."
He released her, moved between her legs as she settled on the counter, but he leaned off to the side and past her to press a button to turn the system on. His voice would echo through the entire camp - inside the facilities and outside.
"Good morning, Campers," he began then went on to introduce himself, "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training." He kept one of his hands on her thighs and as he continued to address the camp Blairâs hands trailed down his chest. They stopped when they found the top of his jeans. With a smirk, she began to unzip them. "It is now...," he paused and looked at the watch he clearly didnât have on his right wrist, "...something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
Being the sturdy, but not sharpest tool, in the shed - he forgot to turn the P.A. system off, "Whyâd you have to wear pants?" He sighed at that, but it was playfully disappointed rather than actually disappointed. But lowkey⊠he was a little disappointed.
"I want you to work for your meal." In the confines of the small office, Blair quickly turned from prey to predator. She wasnât some naive girl who didnât know how boys were, but a woman who knew exactly what she wanted from a man. A minx. She grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling him close so their bodies pressed together. "And Iâm not fast food," she purred, her lips so close to his that when she spoke they brushed ever so slightly.
Blair trailed her lips along his jaw and down his neck, stopping at his shirt collar when her gaze fell to his hand still holding the P.A. button. "Boys," she scoffed softly under her breath as she took his hand off the button and placed it upon her chest. "I hope youâre not expecting this to be over quickly."
Ah, she was a feisty one. Dominant, too. Itâs a bit awkward for him, but it was also a blessing. Nicholas didnât want to think about anything - if he even thought at all. In fact, he didnât even notice that she removed his hand from the PA system button, only that it was now on her chest and he was happy about that. "We have a couple hours." He seized her hair at the back of her head and gently tugged it back to expose her neck, "Iâll try my best to leave you intact for training." It wasnât a promise that he was likely to fulfill.
* * *
Only the gods know how much time was spent in the P.A. office, but it smelled like sex. Whatever was on the counter was on the floor to make room for two worn-out Demigods. Sleep after physical excursion was only logical.
Unlike Nick, who fell asleep shortly after finishing, Blair just laid on the table looking up at the ceiling. In her typical fashion, whenever she was faced with situations she had no control over or didnât like, sheâd backpedal into one of her vices, sex in particular. For her, it was a coping mechanism. She didnât have control over her life, but she could have control when it came to her sex life. It wouldnât make sense to many people, but it was the weird sort of fucked up way she functioned. And it worked.
Nick rolled over and ended up on the floor with a loud âbangâ, which was followed by an audible groan. "Shi--...," he started to curse but let it trail off as he rubbed his face, rolled onto his back, and pulled himself up to his feet. When the haze of being tired eventually cleared up, he looked at the small clock mounted on the wall just above the P.A. system.
4:23 pm. "Ah, shit," he cursed while running a hand through his long messy hair, and began to dress. In the midst of all this, he would toss some items of clothing onto Blair. "We gotta go."
Blair was barely able to hop off the table before Nick started throwing clothes at her. She caught the first couple of pieces. "Alright, Jesus," she grumbled as she tried to juggle the clothes in her hands and catch whatever else he tossed. She managed to hook her bra on her finger, but things began to slip from her grasp. She set the pile down on the table as she started pulling on her undergarments. "I donât think daddy is going to kill you for being a little late."
"Have you met Poseidon?" Heâd wait for her, as it was only natural not to leave a woman cold after sex. Even women like Blair. Since she wasnât adept on her feet, or so she claimed, he grabbed her wrist and pulled them both into a light jog toward the arena.
Blair had just barely pulled on her pants when he took her hand and dragged her out of the office. At the rate he was going, she just barely managed to scoop up her purse and cardigan. She definitely was not the running or jogging type and punctuality was not something she worried herself over. Blair was more of the fashionably late-type, not the rush to grab a taxi type. Halfway there she scoffed and jerked her arm free.
If Nick wanted to race to the arena like an idiot he could, but sex was enough physical excursion. Especially if he planned on her training. That was a whole other battle. So rather than wearing herself out any further, Blair freed herself of the meathead and took her own sweet time getting there. She saw what direction he headed in, so it was easy enough to follow while she adjusted her appearance to look a little more presentable⊠as much as possible anyway.
Nicholas made it to the arena with Blair not trailing too far behind. He had gotten dressed in everything but his shirt, but as a beach boy, he hardly cared. He had some scars and a large tattoo on his right side. Otherwise, he was a very typical musclehead - all brawn, and as Blair figured out, no brain. At least, no brain for intellectual stuff like books and shit. He didnât need all that when he knew that his place would eventually be alongside his biological father.
Once Blair arrived, she made her way over to the stands and took a seat. And in typical snobby girl fashion, she put on her sunglasses and a resting bitch face. She crossed her right leg over her left as she sifted through her purse for a sucker. Strawberry, her favorite. She plucked the wrapper off the candy and then placed it between her lips. Perhaps giving Nick the best sex of his life and disappearing into the crowd would get her out of training. She could hope.
He tried to place himself in a place where he could be heard at all, which wasnât hard because he could certainly bellow his voice to command attention. "As I stated before, I am Nicholas Bower, son of Poseidon. As youâve heard, I will be assisting you all in your training. The gods have all agreed that Camp Athens has ventured away from its original purpose," he scratched the back of his neck as he parroted the words he was given to relay. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is." He gave everyone his notorious finger guns gesture at that.
With that out of the way, he smirked, "With that out of the way, welcome to the training arena." He held his arms out to gesture to the massive structure. "It has magical properties that allow observers to be unaffected by powerful influences and/or abilities. So, you can go ham on each other in here." He shook his head from side to side, then jabbed an index finger toward them all, "No killing. No harm to life, limb, or eyesight. Yadda yadda. Healers will be on standby."
Nicholas paused to give everyone a moment to digest everything before he continued, "The arenaâs unique property allows it to transform into an environment best suited for the pair of demigods. That means, unless a gladiatorial style arena best suits both of you, this empty space will not be your environment. All weapons, elements, and anything else both Demigods might need, will be provided for you. Though if you have your own weapons, you are welcome to bring them with you."
He stopped because he had to think about everything that he could possibly be missing. He pointed a finger up in the air, "We are going to see where youâre at in terms of Demigod skills, so our first training is a spar. To avoid favoritism, the pairings will be random. So, everyone come and grab a token." He produced a pouch (which he was honestly surprised he remembered), and shook it. He reached in and pulled a blue one, then handed it to the next Demigod for the drawing. "If you grab a blue one, youâll join me in the arena for the first dual."
Blair scoffed, rolling her eyes as she moved to her feet. She held the lollipop in her mouth as she wormed her way past other campers to grab her token and be done with it. She didnât bother with the pomp and circumstance of digging around to find what token spoke spoke to her. Her fingers tightened on the first piece she felt and pulled it out to find that she had silver. Well, at least she wasnât first. Silver lining she supposed. Blair tucked the token into her pocket before returning to her seat.
T H E OXS M I T H
son of artemis
Hex: #0000BF
Theo was locked in his trancelike state for some time. It didn't make sense, him not being able to see things clearly, him not being able to figure things out. The battlefield scenario before him was just a muddled mess in his mind. Being so focused on the war scene before him, Theo never heard Daniel enter the room or start speaking. It was a hand on the back of his shoulder that snapped him back to reality.
"Have you ate?"
Theo turned quickly, propping himself on the war table now behind him. Theo's first reaction was to brace himself for danger, probably a product of where his thoughts had been leading him while staring at the war table. He wasn't exactly used to or comfortable with letting an enemy this close to him. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he saw Daniel's concerned look.
"Dude, Daniel, you scared the hell out of me! You can't creep up on a guy like that."
Theo caught Daniel taking in the war table. For some reason, having someone know that he was replaying the trial made Theo feel even more insecure. He shifted over a bit to obscure Daniel's vision of the table.
"Don't worry about that. Just trying to see things more clearly. And yes... I ate this morning." There was a slight shakiness to Theo's voice. He hoped Daniel couldn't pick up on it, but Theo knew Daniel was an observant guy.
Theo was more than relieved to leave the small hut and follow Daniel outside into the open air. "Theo, come check this out." Squinting, Theo's eyes adjusted to the bright late morning sun. He set his gaze in the same direction as Daniel. There was Heath, long hair and all, and then there was some girl Theo didn't recognize holding a guitar. She was attractive, to say the least. Theo felt a weird pull in her direction. He couldn't place it. He simply fell in line behind Daniel on his walk to meet the duo. It was odd having so many new faces at camp, but in light of recent events, maybe it was what a good thing. Theo could use some fresh friends.
Before they could reach the new girl, Heath stepped forward to intercept them. He looked worried about something, but Theo being Theo, he was more focused on the pretty girl in front of him. Still, he managed to hear what Heath had to say. "Morning, you two know my adopted sister, Iliana right? Have either of you seen her? She went off on her own this morning and I want make sure she's okay." Theo's protective instincts kicked in a bit. He finally turned his eyes to Heath. Theo was sure Iliana was fine, but he didn't want to take Heath's concern for granted. Flashing a soft, reassuring smile at Heath, Theo tried to calm him down. "Sorry, Heath, I haven't seen her yet today. I'm sure she's fine though. Probably still processing yesterday. I think we all are. Theo couldn't help but cut his gaze away. He hated anyone having a reason to think he was weak, but, to him, yesterday gave everyone just that. Theo shot his eyes back up and looked from Heath to Daniel for him to offer more reassurance.
xxx Hecate | #8b9068 | Outfit
"Morning, you two know my adopted sister, Iliana right? Have either of you seen her? She went off on her own this morning and I want make sure she's okay."
"Sorry, Heath, I haven't seen her yet today. I'm sure she's fine though. Probably still processing yesterday. I think we all are."
Daniel nodded once as it was well said from the son of Artemis. But then a sort of silence lingered and he caught Theo's eyes on him, seeming to prompt him to add more. Daniel cleared his throat. "How old is she?" Iliana did appear extremely youthful. Like around 15 but he guessed she was older and regardless of what teen year she was - she was a demigod and willingly went off on her own. That's why Daniel asked so Heath realized it, stating it out loud. "Most demigods here are decent, if she's in strife or pain, somebody will comfort her. The others? Ignore her and let her be. You're looking at a 2% chance of something actually bad happening to her. If things weren't turned upside down and there's no sign of struggle, she'll come back when she's ready." It wasn't the most assuring, but it was realistic.
He pursed his lips and stepped up to Heath. "I'm going to lay a pro tip on you. You're going to be divided one day, whether on your own or surrounded by people you can't trust so....branch out. Make friends in high places. That way, you don't have to worry about your sister every two seconds." Daniel understood the worry. When Andy came to camp, he could have developed a whole nervous itch no matter how well she could take care of herself. But quickly, she made friends that cared for her and would protect her, watch her back and have eyes on her. It was just...more comforting knowing she had a solid support system around her. And Heath might feel some relief if he made friends for himself and Iliana too.
"But Theo here, Theo's a wicked tracker." There it was. Some actual helpful advice. Plus it'd keep Theo out of his head, give him something to do if Heath and/or Theo was willing.
It was then some announcement came through the whole of camp. With a little bonus content that made Daniel arch a brow then wrinkle his nose. He worried for a second how far and suggestive things would get on the PA system but then came the blissful silence. Daniel audibly sighed out and relaxed not realizing how tense he was from second-hand embarrassment. Then he simply went about doing his own thing.
* * *
Daniel shuffled back into the training arena for mandatory exercise and a speech...there always had to be some speech. He'd throw popcorn at the guy if it wasn't the poor guy's job. Although he was sick to death of hearing how they were doing everything wrong and about their own camp grounds. "this purpose is wrong. Work, work , work - no play. Be mindless drones. This is what this place is capable of." Like Daniel and his conjurations hadn't put the camp through the rounds. But not everybody crash test-dummied the place he supposed.
He shuffled up for a token because that's what others were doing. It was pretty easy to follow the pattern. He drew a white one at random and returned to his seat, flipping it like a coin until the arena got ready to rumble. He tried to pay attention to who else drew the white one.
xEthan Knox ~ Hestia ~ #8B4513
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xHeath Taylor ~ Athena ~ #808000
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xxIliana Remington-Taylor ~ Demeter
xxxxxxxxxx#4A766E
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xxxxPenelope Givens ~ Hermes ~
xxxxxxxxxx#483D8B
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Reaching the stables, she hesitated. She liked animals, but in her current state, she was afraid of what she would do. She learned animals could sense someone's feelings and could respond to that, especially with horses. One of Heath's relatives worked with horses and she got to see them a few times growing up. Never had the courage to ride one though. Heath did and did pretty well.
Suddenly the hairs on the back of Iliana's neck stirred and she turned around to see someone coming up to her. She didn't recognize him. Confused on what he wanted, Iliana gave the man her full attention.
"Hi there. I'm...I'm completely lost and confused. I've lost my bearings. Would you be able to help me out. Iâm looking for the hall."
He didn't look confused, at least not to Iliana. She suppose she could lead him to the Hall, but that would mean running into more people, something she wanted to avoid. Still, she couldn't leave him hanging. She would show him the way, but then leave when she did. Decision made, she started typing her response on her iPad when the stranger spoke up again, talking about the horses before introducing himself as Lochlan, all the while holding his hand out. Iliana hesitated briefly, feeling compelled, placed her hand in his.
"And I think this is the part where you tell me your name."
All thought escaped her mind. She felt this intense pressure within her head. Without thinking about it, Iliana spoke for the first time in over a year.
"I . . . li. . . . na. Iliana," she said a scratchy and low voice.
Shocked, Iliana inadvertently dropped her iPad as she raised her now free hand to her mouth. She spoke. Lochlan could probably figure out she hadn't used it in awhile due to how rough it was. Iliana couldn't believe it. She remembered when Apollo had told her he healed her vocal chords. She had tried speaking then, but nothing came. It was like something was blocking her. Now for some reason she could speak. How did that happen? Totally forgetting about Lochlan, Iliana felt her eyes welling up.
"I . . . can . . . talk . . . . how?" she murmured to herself.
Suddenly a voice penetrated the silence as someone spoke.
"Good morning, Campers, Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training. It is now something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
Snapping out of it, Iliana quickly took her hand out of Lochlan's hand and picked up her iPad. It when she heard this Nicholas and some other female. What they said confused Iliana, and that confusion read easily on her face. Deciding to ignore it, Iliana thought about what Poseidon's son said. Training? A look of fear passed over Iliana's face. That was not good. She didn't think that be wise, but knew she couldn't avoid it either. Maybe when the time came she could show up and try to convince Nicholas to sit this one out. Feeling her anxiety rise though, she remembered Lochlan was still there. Looking at him, she tried talking again.
"The . . . hall . . . . . is that . . . way," she said, pointing in the direction of the Hall.
Wanting to be alone again, the blonde took off running, leaving Lochlan alone.
Theo was the first to answer Heath's question. He also noticed how the man didn't directly look at him at times, but seemed to be looking beyond them. Heath looked and saw him looking at Veronica. Knowing that she was Aphrodite's daughter, and his own initial reaction to her, Heath wasn't too surprised by Theo's reaction. But at least he gave him an answer. Then Daniel spoke up, but instead saying if he'd seen Iliana, he asked him her age.
"She's 19," he said simply, not understanding why Daniel would want to know that.
It wouldn't but the first time Daniel confused him though. Out of the campers Heath had met so far, Daniel was the most puzzling. At least he came off as a decent man, much like his sister. Before Heath could thank the two men for their time, Daniel spoke up again.
"I'm going to lay a pro tip on you. You're going to be divided one day, whether on your own or surrounded by people you can't trust so....branch out. Make friends in high places. That way, you don't have to worry about your sister every two seconds."
It was very sound advice and Daniel was probably right. He could probably relate to Heath since he had a sister and since both Daniel and Andy had been at camp last year, Heath knew he should follow good advice. Still, Heath's protective nature was never going to fully go ahead. Heath even before Iliana had come to live with him and his family, Heath could recall the times he tried protecting others. It was just innate for him to be that way, for better or worse. But Heath knew he'd would sleep better at night if he knew more people at camp would get along with Iliana. Her recalled Cherise being nice to Iliana, as well as Duke and Wes, at least from what Iliana told him. He also remembered Iliana had hanged around others more then he did. He would hope she would do that again, but first she had to get over the events of yesterday.
"Thank you. I will do my best to follow your advice,"
Daniel then mentioned that Theo was a great tracker. That got Heath's attention, but before he could say anything, an announcement was made. So Poseidon's son was here? Heath then caught Nicholas's voice again along with a female voice. Heath couldn't help but groan. He could piece together what was happening. Waiting a few more minutes, it sounded like the pair had turned off the speakers, much to Heath's relief. Focusing on what Nicholas said, it sounded like they were finally going to start training. He hoped Iliana showed up.
Looking at Theo and Daniel, Heath said, "Thanks for both of your help. If Iliana doesn't show up for training, I'll probably ask you for your assistance, Theo."
Bowing to them, Heath returned to Veronica.
"Looks like we're going to be training soon. I think I'll give Iliana the space she needs for now, so I'll go about my own way for now. Oh, I would recommend letting other guys know you're Aphrodite's daughter since we males might act like fools around you," Heath said with a small grin before continuing, "Thanks for your assistance. I'll see you later."
With that, Heath went on his way.
Ethan entered his cabin to see Heath already ready for training.
"Hey, any luck finding Iliana?{/color]
[color=#808000]"No, but did decide to stop looking for her right after that announcement,"
"Aw, well, I am going to get ready for training," Ethan said before heading for his private quarters.
It didn't take him too long for he dressed in workout clothes, the same way as Heath was. Ethan would have spoken up, but the front door opened and Iliana came in. The three stood in silence when Heath suddenly came forward and drew Iliana into a hug. Surprised, Iliana just stood there.
"You had me worried, Lia," Heath said.
"So . . . rry. . . ." Iliana said softly.
For the first time in his life, Heath was shocked. Did . . . did Iliana just speak? Gently, Heath held his sister back.
"What did you say?"
"I'm . . . sorry . . . I didn't . . . . mean to . . . make . . . you . . . worry."
Heath's jaw dropped and he found himself dropping to his knees. Concerned, Iliana dropped before him. Ethan hadn't heard Iliana speak, wanting to give siblings space, but he came forward and dropped next to his friend when he saw him drop to the floor.
"Hey, you okay? What happened?" he asked as he placed a hand on Heath's shoulder.
Tears appeared in Heath's eyes as he looked at Iliana. He honestly thought he would never hear Iliana speak ever again. Hearing her voice, as rough as it was, was miraculous. Overcome with emotion for the first time, Heath cried. Both Iliana and Ethan comforted him. Ethan was confused, while Iliana herself started crying.
Soon, Heath calmed down and looked at Iliana again.
"When . . when were you able to talk again?"
"This morning . . . when I met . . . a new camper . . . named Lochlan."
Now it was Ethan's turn to look surprised since he never heard Iliana talk before. When Heath heard Iliana mentioning someone new, he couldn't help but wonder if this Lochlan had anything to do with Iliana talking now. Well, with training coming up, now would be a good time to find out. Needing a goal to refocus, Heath decided to thinking about training, otherwise he wouldn't be able to recover from the shock he just received.
"Well, you can talk and I can't tell you how happy that makes me feel, Lia. Are you going to come with us to training, Lia? It be best if you did," Heath asked before getting to his feet.
Ethan and Iliana stood up too.
"I will come, but . . . I don't . . . want to . . . train. . . . Might hurt someone." Iliana said, slowly getting used to using her voice again.
"You might have no choice, Lia. Best get ready just in case. We'll see if we can convince this Nicholas to let you skip this session." Ethan said, trying to be encouraging.
Nodding, Iliana left to get changed. Alone once more, Heath decided to confide to Ethan.
"I still can't believe Lia can talk. I don't want her to train either, but I know our mothers want us to train. Mother even told me it's imperative for Iliana to master her powers at some point."
"Hey at least Lia can talk now. And maybe this training will help her."
"Iliana has been training since she was a kid though. I still don't know how being here will make a difference."
"Try to think a bit more positively, bro. Maybe training with other demigods will make a difference. I honestly don't know what to expect, but dwelling on the cons will not help us or Lia."
What Ethan didn't add was he wasn't looking forward to training either. He was not a fighter and knew he was severely lacking in practicing a few of his own skills.
Soon, Iliana came out of her room and the trio left for the training grounds.
Once there they saw others arriving, including Nelly. Nelly had a fine time taking pictures and was pleased the images she took. After lunch, she spent the next few hours at her cabin going through all the pictures. She already knew she would be making a scrapbook for her trip here. Her next plan of action was to get pictures of her fellow campers, but knew she'd have to get permission first. First rule in photography people was to ALWAYS get permission to avoid any legal trouble in the future. That was something her mother taught her. However, she knew she would never get pictures of them using their abilities. That was just asking for trouble and Nelly would never do anything that might put her and her fellow demigods in danger.
Once things were settled, a tall dark haired guy came forward and reintroduced himself as Nicholas. First thing he mentioned was how the Valises wouldn't be returning. This got Nelly and Iliana's attention. Nelly was curious for the reason why, but had a feeling she would never know why. Oh, well, at least she knew what happened to them. Iliana knew the Valises had gone to Olympus. Maybe what happened to them was too much for them to handle. She hoped they were going to be okay, especially Alex.
Nicholas then started talking about their training. When he was done, Heath and Ethan got up to get their tokens. Heath drew out a white token and Ethan drew a green one. Both were relieved their weren't sparring with each other. Turning back, they head for their seat. Nelly wanted to see what colors others drew before getting hers. She saw what colors Ethan and Heath drew, as well as a few others. She started heading up when Daniel head up, so she was able to spy his white token. Looks like he was going up against Heath. This should prove interesting. Daniel was Hecate's son right? So he was bound to use magic skills. Heath was Athena's son. She had no idea what his skills would be, but she imagined he would be pretty smart. Well she would wait and see. Coming up to Nicholas, she smiled and reached into the bag to pull out a pink token.
"Aww, phooey, pink? I was hoping for turquoise, navy, or orange," she complained since those were her fav colors.
Oh well, that's the way the cookie crumbled, she suppose. Shrugging, she returned to her seat.
Iliana deliberately waited for everyone else to get their token before taking a deep breath and approaching Nicholas.
With desperation in her eyes, she quietly asked, "Do I really . . . . have to . . . train? . . . . I can't . . . control my powers . . . . I've killed before . . . "
She started crying again, thinking about the past once more. Once again, it started drizzling. Looking at Nicholas and seeing he wasn't going to let her be excused, Iliana sighed and grabbed the last token before going to sit down.
VINCENT MOORE
Son of Nemesisx|xOutfitx|x#394763
Son of Nemesisx|xOutfitx|x#394763
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Vincent could feel her eyes looking him over. Some may have found it uncomfortable but her actions didn't bother him, most things didn't. The only thing he may have been slightly conscious of was the many scars covering his body. Most weren't associated with moments Vincent remembered fondly but he didn't want others to presume he was bothered by them, so he tried to reveal as little as possible about his feelings about them for moment.
Considering how she was looking over him Vincent believed it to be fair play to respond similarly. She was very attractive and seemed to know that she was from her body language. During their conversation she would accentuate her feminine features and beauty. Vincent had no reason to complain, he could appreciate beauty as much as the next guy but he did wonder exactly why she presented herself that way. Maybe there was some greater meaning behind it but at that moment he could care less and just enjoyed the view.
When she turned over onto her stomach, kicking her feet up as she did, with her head rested on her palm she had a 'quizzical' look on her face. Maybe she was feigning it but Vincent didn't mind, her actions made him feel a little at ease. After a little bit she answered his question and said, "Well, I don't know any rituals to welcome demigods. Buuuut . . ." Before continuing she turned towards him and smiled. "I wouldn't be averse to creating some. You know - it never hurts to be properly introduced. There's not much going on today anyway."
He shrugged in response to her suggesting creating some form of introductory ritual. Vincent wasn't familiar with the lifestyle of demigod's who attended camp so he didn't know what to really expect from them. From his past experience most tried to live just like any other person before coming to camp but he had no idea what things would be like once he came because he never wanted to be here.
Vincent then smiled and said, "I also wouldn't be against the creation of some, as long as it's on the more fun and entertaining side and not the hazing and abusive side." He then thought a little bit before continuing, "But if I weren't on the receiving end I wouldn't be opposed to the latter."
She then asked him a seemingly unimportant question, "On a scale of one to ten, how are your coffee-making skills?" There were certain connotations associated with drinking coffee at another's place which she may have been alluding to so Vincent thought about how he should respond to her. It hadn't been long since a good friend and partner of his had betrayed him, which was a still a sore spot for Vincent, so he didn't know if he should pursue any form of relationship or not. There were pros and cons to both choices and different outlooks associated with them but he hadn't given the idea much thought, he didn't really have much time to form one.
He then layed down on the beach next to her on his side, supporting his head with one arm while their faces were a few inches away from the other. "I would say a solid seven, I'm much better with tea. I've never heard any complaints from those I've entertained or served but maybe they were satisfied with the other aspects of my 'hospitality'." He let the small innuendo exist between them, leaving room for her response.
After a while Vincent stood up, dusting off whatever sand may be on his skin and adjusting his suspenders back over his shoulders. There were some clouds overhead which made the beach slightly colder than it was previously. He handed his jacket towards the redhead before saying, "Seems like you won't have much more time to tan and it's getting a little chilly." He then grabbed the rest of his clothes from the ground before asking her, "I haven't had the pleasure of receiving your name. Are you going to tell me or wait until I finally ask you directly?"
Considering how she was looking over him Vincent believed it to be fair play to respond similarly. She was very attractive and seemed to know that she was from her body language. During their conversation she would accentuate her feminine features and beauty. Vincent had no reason to complain, he could appreciate beauty as much as the next guy but he did wonder exactly why she presented herself that way. Maybe there was some greater meaning behind it but at that moment he could care less and just enjoyed the view.
When she turned over onto her stomach, kicking her feet up as she did, with her head rested on her palm she had a 'quizzical' look on her face. Maybe she was feigning it but Vincent didn't mind, her actions made him feel a little at ease. After a little bit she answered his question and said, "Well, I don't know any rituals to welcome demigods. Buuuut . . ." Before continuing she turned towards him and smiled. "I wouldn't be averse to creating some. You know - it never hurts to be properly introduced. There's not much going on today anyway."
He shrugged in response to her suggesting creating some form of introductory ritual. Vincent wasn't familiar with the lifestyle of demigod's who attended camp so he didn't know what to really expect from them. From his past experience most tried to live just like any other person before coming to camp but he had no idea what things would be like once he came because he never wanted to be here.
Vincent then smiled and said, "I also wouldn't be against the creation of some, as long as it's on the more fun and entertaining side and not the hazing and abusive side." He then thought a little bit before continuing, "But if I weren't on the receiving end I wouldn't be opposed to the latter."
She then asked him a seemingly unimportant question, "On a scale of one to ten, how are your coffee-making skills?" There were certain connotations associated with drinking coffee at another's place which she may have been alluding to so Vincent thought about how he should respond to her. It hadn't been long since a good friend and partner of his had betrayed him, which was a still a sore spot for Vincent, so he didn't know if he should pursue any form of relationship or not. There were pros and cons to both choices and different outlooks associated with them but he hadn't given the idea much thought, he didn't really have much time to form one.
He then layed down on the beach next to her on his side, supporting his head with one arm while their faces were a few inches away from the other. "I would say a solid seven, I'm much better with tea. I've never heard any complaints from those I've entertained or served but maybe they were satisfied with the other aspects of my 'hospitality'." He let the small innuendo exist between them, leaving room for her response.
After a while Vincent stood up, dusting off whatever sand may be on his skin and adjusting his suspenders back over his shoulders. There were some clouds overhead which made the beach slightly colder than it was previously. He handed his jacket towards the redhead before saying, "Seems like you won't have much more time to tan and it's getting a little chilly." He then grabbed the rest of his clothes from the ground before asking her, "I haven't had the pleasure of receiving your name. Are you going to tell me or wait until I finally ask you directly?"
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Rae couldn't help but chuckle at his response, "I also wouldn't be against the creation of some, as long as it's on the more fun and entertaining side and not the hazing and abusive side." He seemed to change his tune by placing the shoe of the hazed on another foot, "But if I weren't on the receiving end I wouldn't be opposed to the latter." Unfortunately, or not, for Vincent - Rae was not the bullying kind of gal. Sure, she had serious sexual addictions that may or may not have anything to do with voids that may or may not exist, but she was still a decent woman.
Her feet kicked a bit in the air; a simple idle animation that was otherwise meaningless. "Do I sense that I have a bad boy on my hands?" She masked the serious inquiry underneath the playfulness of her tone. Not that she'd mind. Hell, her first and last good lay here in Athens seemed like a troublemaker. Maybe she just attracted those types of guys.
If there were any emotions scrawled either on his features or in his body language, she didn't seem to pick up on them easily. Vincent didn't seem bothered, however, or she figured he might have left by now. Any man that didn't enjoy an extremely forward woman would have run for the hills. Maybe even just drowned themselves in the ocean. Her personality didn't mesh with very many people, especially those in the heavy testosterone department. Yet, Vincent appeared to respond to her with just as much flirtation, so she felt okay to proceed. Not that she wouldn't have if she knew he was uncomfortable. The gods did give him two working legs to get away.
I would say a solid seven, I'm much better with tea. I've never heard any complaints from those I've entertained or served but maybe they were satisfied with the other aspects of my 'hospitality'." By this time, he had unabashedly gotten right into her personal space. Hell, her intimate space. For a second there she had a momentary lapse in character and seemed surprised. She blinked once or twice too rapidly. Usually, she's the first one to get this close, but here he was - breaking rules.
"You are quite devious, aren't you?" She spared a moment to boldly reach out and run a finger or two across his chest; her eyes following the motion. It was then that the P.A. system could be heard far too loudly, disrupting the mood. Rae was getting there, too.
After he stood, as did she. Since he offered his jacket, and it was getting a bit nipply, she took it. "Seems like you won't have much more time to tan and it's getting a little chilly." She watched him gather the rest of his belongings, looking very much like a sad puppy. "I haven't had the pleasure of receiving your name. Are you going to tell me or wait until I finally ask you directly?"
With the daunting task of training being on the horizon, she hardly thought it was appropriate to ask Vincent to his cabin. Whatever was going to happen, she had no desire to be sore for it. "The gods are cruel," she mused in a disappointed sing-songy voice as she tugged the jacket over her shoulders.
Since he was adamant about getting her name, she finally entertained him with an introduction, "Rae, daughter of Artemis. A point that seems to be of interest to most of the Demigods here. Parentage. Do with that what you will," she shrugged once and started to head away from the beach and toward the cabins. She'd need to shower and get dressed.
She allowed herself to walk with him for only a short while before she stopped abruptly and turned toward him, "My cabin's the one with the raven knick-knack surrounded by the lunar cycle hanging on the door." She even pointed in that general direction, "If you want the jacket back, you'll have to come to get it." She smirked, twirled back around, and made off toward her cabin.
The moment her back turned away from him, all notes of friendliness faded from her features. Training. Rae didn't want to do anything like that right now. Sure, she did well enough with her abilities, but she didn't exactly have many things to do that didn't support others. Maybe she'd get lucky and it would be a team-building exercise. Then again...
... she already got lucky being blessed by a half-naked man on the beach, so there was likely no more luck to be had.
Of course, when she finally made it to the arena she would note that her luck did, in fact, run out. It was a sparring event. Not exactly anything original. It was made worse by the fact that the pairings would be made at random by drawing a token. The redhead brushed some hair behind an ear, her eyes venturing about to seek out which meathead she could possibly be paired up with. Even a gal as comfortable and confident as she had her own self-doubt when it came to certain things. Sex? Sure. Advice about life? Great! Need a gal pal or a wing woman? She's right there. Put her in an arena with anyone here, and she might be put on her ass. Or worse - someone was going to ruin her precious face and body.
When it was her turn to take a token, she reached into the bag and snatched up a black one. She didn't even want to know who else had it. She sat down and went over the logistics of the arena and its magical property; running various scenarios through her head about how it might change for her. How much it might change for her opponent.
Her feet kicked a bit in the air; a simple idle animation that was otherwise meaningless. "Do I sense that I have a bad boy on my hands?" She masked the serious inquiry underneath the playfulness of her tone. Not that she'd mind. Hell, her first and last good lay here in Athens seemed like a troublemaker. Maybe she just attracted those types of guys.
If there were any emotions scrawled either on his features or in his body language, she didn't seem to pick up on them easily. Vincent didn't seem bothered, however, or she figured he might have left by now. Any man that didn't enjoy an extremely forward woman would have run for the hills. Maybe even just drowned themselves in the ocean. Her personality didn't mesh with very many people, especially those in the heavy testosterone department. Yet, Vincent appeared to respond to her with just as much flirtation, so she felt okay to proceed. Not that she wouldn't have if she knew he was uncomfortable. The gods did give him two working legs to get away.
I would say a solid seven, I'm much better with tea. I've never heard any complaints from those I've entertained or served but maybe they were satisfied with the other aspects of my 'hospitality'." By this time, he had unabashedly gotten right into her personal space. Hell, her intimate space. For a second there she had a momentary lapse in character and seemed surprised. She blinked once or twice too rapidly. Usually, she's the first one to get this close, but here he was - breaking rules.
"You are quite devious, aren't you?" She spared a moment to boldly reach out and run a finger or two across his chest; her eyes following the motion. It was then that the P.A. system could be heard far too loudly, disrupting the mood. Rae was getting there, too.
After he stood, as did she. Since he offered his jacket, and it was getting a bit nipply, she took it. "Seems like you won't have much more time to tan and it's getting a little chilly." She watched him gather the rest of his belongings, looking very much like a sad puppy. "I haven't had the pleasure of receiving your name. Are you going to tell me or wait until I finally ask you directly?"
With the daunting task of training being on the horizon, she hardly thought it was appropriate to ask Vincent to his cabin. Whatever was going to happen, she had no desire to be sore for it. "The gods are cruel," she mused in a disappointed sing-songy voice as she tugged the jacket over her shoulders.
Since he was adamant about getting her name, she finally entertained him with an introduction, "Rae, daughter of Artemis. A point that seems to be of interest to most of the Demigods here. Parentage. Do with that what you will," she shrugged once and started to head away from the beach and toward the cabins. She'd need to shower and get dressed.
She allowed herself to walk with him for only a short while before she stopped abruptly and turned toward him, "My cabin's the one with the raven knick-knack surrounded by the lunar cycle hanging on the door." She even pointed in that general direction, "If you want the jacket back, you'll have to come to get it." She smirked, twirled back around, and made off toward her cabin.
The moment her back turned away from him, all notes of friendliness faded from her features. Training. Rae didn't want to do anything like that right now. Sure, she did well enough with her abilities, but she didn't exactly have many things to do that didn't support others. Maybe she'd get lucky and it would be a team-building exercise. Then again...
... she already got lucky being blessed by a half-naked man on the beach, so there was likely no more luck to be had.
* * *
Of course, when she finally made it to the arena she would note that her luck did, in fact, run out. It was a sparring event. Not exactly anything original. It was made worse by the fact that the pairings would be made at random by drawing a token. The redhead brushed some hair behind an ear, her eyes venturing about to seek out which meathead she could possibly be paired up with. Even a gal as comfortable and confident as she had her own self-doubt when it came to certain things. Sex? Sure. Advice about life? Great! Need a gal pal or a wing woman? She's right there. Put her in an arena with anyone here, and she might be put on her ass. Or worse - someone was going to ruin her precious face and body.
When it was her turn to take a token, she reached into the bag and snatched up a black one. She didn't even want to know who else had it. She sat down and went over the logistics of the arena and its magical property; running various scenarios through her head about how it might change for her. How much it might change for her opponent.
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"Yeah, theyâre healing up nicely," Mason responded in a way that might offend most people, but Cherise could understand that he didn't exactly want to open up and stare at her or anything. Hey, a wall is as good as anything... she supposed.
It was around then that Andy took her seat and responded in a more social fashion, which certainly complimented the brooding asocial Demigod of Hades. "Still a little sore. But mostly just bruises. Thanks again for your help. I'm sure Daniel is grateful I'm not dead. I'm glad he has you for a friend." This got a bright smile from Cherise - as if it was that hard to get the sun child to brighten up anyway.
She gave off a little wave toward Trinity, but she didn't recall ever meeting the woman.
"Help yourself if you want," Mason's invitation surprised her a bit, as he seemed more content with the wall than an actual living being trying to talk to him.
Regardless, Cherise waved one of her hands toward him in a motion to decline his offer to join them. "Oh, I had no intention to join. I was just checking up, is all." Despite Mason's awkward nature, she still smiled his way, "I am going to eat outside."
With a swift departing wave toward the party of three, she turned and did just that - took some time to eat outside and enjoy the morning air. Until the announcement of training chimed over the loudspeakers anyway. She finished up her food, took back her empty dishware, and traveled back to her cabin with a nice leisurely stroll.
Along the way, Cherise saw a few people here and there, but she mostly minded her own business. She'd likely spend the rest of her remaining time figuring out what to wear, especially since the details on this training event left... much to be desired.
Cherise went with something sporty casual. It was an outfit that wouldn't get in the way, but she also wouldn't mind if it got ruined. In all likelihood, she was going to be destroyed depending on the type of training it was. She didn't bring anything else but herself since it was stated that everything else will be provided. On second thought, she should have brought her bow.
She ended up at the arena around the same time Rae had. Luckily, the redhead was close to Daniel so she could be near them both at once. Cherise didn't want there to be any sort of awkwardness between the three of them. Daniel is the guy she's interested in, but Rae is her bestie. There isn't a cute rhyming scheme like "bros before hos" for women, but the rule still applied.
When Nicholas explained the mechanics of the training, she sighed. Rae and Cherise seemed to look at each other at the same time, and they likely had the same thought about the matter. After the moon child got her black token, Cherise plucked out her own. Gold. Not black. At least she won't be pit against her best friend!
Ah, but anyone here could pulverize her.
After she sat back down, she was practically lifting her bum all the way out of her seat to sneak a peek at Daniel's own token. She's probably fall over if she leaned forward even just an inch more!
It was around then that Andy took her seat and responded in a more social fashion, which certainly complimented the brooding asocial Demigod of Hades. "Still a little sore. But mostly just bruises. Thanks again for your help. I'm sure Daniel is grateful I'm not dead. I'm glad he has you for a friend." This got a bright smile from Cherise - as if it was that hard to get the sun child to brighten up anyway.
She gave off a little wave toward Trinity, but she didn't recall ever meeting the woman.
"Help yourself if you want," Mason's invitation surprised her a bit, as he seemed more content with the wall than an actual living being trying to talk to him.
Regardless, Cherise waved one of her hands toward him in a motion to decline his offer to join them. "Oh, I had no intention to join. I was just checking up, is all." Despite Mason's awkward nature, she still smiled his way, "I am going to eat outside."
With a swift departing wave toward the party of three, she turned and did just that - took some time to eat outside and enjoy the morning air. Until the announcement of training chimed over the loudspeakers anyway. She finished up her food, took back her empty dishware, and traveled back to her cabin with a nice leisurely stroll.
Along the way, Cherise saw a few people here and there, but she mostly minded her own business. She'd likely spend the rest of her remaining time figuring out what to wear, especially since the details on this training event left... much to be desired.
* * *
Cherise went with something sporty casual. It was an outfit that wouldn't get in the way, but she also wouldn't mind if it got ruined. In all likelihood, she was going to be destroyed depending on the type of training it was. She didn't bring anything else but herself since it was stated that everything else will be provided. On second thought, she should have brought her bow.
She ended up at the arena around the same time Rae had. Luckily, the redhead was close to Daniel so she could be near them both at once. Cherise didn't want there to be any sort of awkwardness between the three of them. Daniel is the guy she's interested in, but Rae is her bestie. There isn't a cute rhyming scheme like "bros before hos" for women, but the rule still applied.
When Nicholas explained the mechanics of the training, she sighed. Rae and Cherise seemed to look at each other at the same time, and they likely had the same thought about the matter. After the moon child got her black token, Cherise plucked out her own. Gold. Not black. At least she won't be pit against her best friend!
Ah, but anyone here could pulverize her.
After she sat back down, she was practically lifting her bum all the way out of her seat to sneak a peek at Daniel's own token. She's probably fall over if she leaned forward even just an inch more!
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xxxxxx Daughter of Ares | Outfit | #461f4b
Andy's advice on her Wes conflict was something she expected. They had been through it before since it was a bit of a sore spot for Trinity and now this made the umpteenth time, she just felt like an idiot for having these shallow-girly ass problems when the conflict around them was so much bigger. More to the point, she knew Andy was right and pretty consistent with what Wes said.
That's why she was quickly eager to move it on and talk about Andy. "Not really. Watching everyone's trials was hard. I hated that I couldn't do anything but..." Andy's voice faded. "My trial scared the shit out of me."
Trinity laid a hand on her shoulder squeezing it gently, seeming to prompt Andy to continue. "Yes, the Underworld and Hades are scary, but...I never want to have to choose who deserves to live or die. I have been stuck in the middle of their feud for so long, refusing to choose a side, only for it all to unravel... in front of everyone."
All their fears and secrets and dilemmas were put on show for everyone to see. The gods were dogs and ruthless. But that didn't make it easier or any more comforting. Besides, Andy looked liked she itched with more to say. "And I feel terrible. I'm disgusted with myself." This time her voice had more of an emotional edge to it. "I spent a year with Ajax and I couldn't save him. I wouldn't. Because I knew if the tables were turned... He wouldn't save me. And that pain... Mason has been feeling that every day for a year."
Trinity squeezed her friend's shoulder again lightly. It was better she let it all out and Trinity was appreciative of her honesty, and there for her. But Trinity steered clear of the advice department and remained as silent support, scanning her friend's eyes sympathetically. "And seeing him die. Was the hardest thing I've ever experienced." Finally, Andy made dead eye contact with her and the penny dropped. Trinity's eyes widened slightly. She really loved Mason that much. "I was so scared that he was actually dead that I waited for him at his cabin afterwards... Just to be sure."
Immediately, Trinity pulled her friend into a hug. Sympathy had evolved to empathy in a flash because Trinity understood. Saying it was just a trial didn't erase that phantom trauma that was incredibly impactful to both girls. âAnd Iâm sure he was there.â She pulled back, unintentionally mirroring that weak smile. They hadn't actually killed the boys they adored. They were very much in the flesh and alive and well.
The girls continued the venture to the hall until Andy paused. She pinched the bridge of her nose, causing Trinity to frown as she watched her friend with concern. "And... I slept with Mason."
Trinity's brows instantly shot up. âWow. Okay...umm..â Andy's smile seemed to say it wasn't as much of a dilemma as an event that unravelled. But wow Trinity was speechless. As long as her friend was okay and Mason treated her well. Honestly, Trinity was eyeing Andy as if something would be different but...all-in-all Andy seemed healthy and in decent spirits and like herself. That's all that mattered.
Once in the hall, both girls had their eyes set on the food. She sorted herself a bit of fruit, yoghurt, an OJ and toast before instinctually following Andy to a table that hosted Mason and - the chick that gave her the bottle. A friendly. "How are Andy's injuries?"
"Yeah, they're healing up nicely."
Andy swooped in to answer for herself, sitting by Mason, meanwhile Trinity shuffled around the table sitting across for them. Just as well they were nearby because, gods, Mason could be a douche. Trinity didn't chip in seeing as it was fitting for the injured to answer for themselves and food was the priority. Unlike Mason, she didn't ignore the conversation going on around her. She glanced up looking between the converses.
When the opportunity presented itself, she would dust the crumbs off her fingers and extend a hand to the brunette she had yet to officially meet. Buuut she was too late for that. Which was a pity because she could have complimented the girl's skills with a bow.
She resumed eating and drinking until everything was gone in front of her. But her peace and content after a good meal and decent company was disrupted by an announcement. "Good morning, Campers. Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training." Ah yes, he was also tacked on at the end of the trials. She forgot about Poseidon's little helper. "It is now...something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
She huffed out rubbing her head. She imagined it wasn't the response her mates expected from an Ares kid. Typically she'd be all about it. âI donât hate training, but as if we havenât been pulled through the mud enough,â she muttered. She was going to train today but in her own time and way.
Then some cringe-worthy...foreplay came over the PA system. Honestly, it was like someone forgot to close down the last porn site they were on. âYikes.â With that being the last to echo through the speakers, Trinity was only glad she had finished her food and beverages on time. But it also did bring about how she could be third-wheeling on Mason and Andy. Trinity's eyes shifted between the two and she smiled tightly.
She held out her dishes to Andy innocently. âClosest to kitchen has to chuck 'em away.â A most made up and improvised rule. But she wanted a word with the son of Hades, alone. Andy could probably get that. And when Andy stepped away, Trinity changed gears. âListen here, that girl cares something fierce for you. So don't you hurt her or bullshit her. If Ajax comes back, you stand your ground and protect her. You don't act up or shut her out. You're worthy. She chose you, Mason.â
With that said, she drummed on the table and put on a smile. âI'm gonna do a few things. Pre-train, bug Wes...think about getting changed for training.â She gave a little wave to both of them.
* * *
She headed to the arena without much expectation. The Poseidon son, Nicholas, took centre stage re-introducing himself. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is." Trinity's eyes hardened a little into suspicious slants before looking around for Andy's reaction. The Valises had their flaws but were also a major part of camp.
The guy continued on to explain how the activity would go down. Trinity understood most of it except to "go ham" but with exceptions and guidelines. She shrugged it off and just decided to let whatever will be will be once she was in the arena with her opponent.
She dipped her hand in the bag and drew out a black token and returned to a seat near Wesley. Not long after, a light drizzle hit the arena. Argh! Those bloody mood and weather bound demigods! Hopefully the first fight would kick off and distract the source.
VeronicaxxLewis
Daughter of Aphrodite
#B300B3
Daughter of Aphrodite
#B300B3
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Sheâd hung back slightly to allow Heath to approach them but as he started speaking sheâd gingerly moved closer; so she was standing far enough to be apart but close enough that she could just about make out most of what they were saying. It did help that the voice of the second guy carried easier than the first, whoâd seemed a little distant when Heath was speaking to him. And then she realised he kept glancing over Heathâs shoulder towards her, almost stealing glances since he kept looking away a moment later. It made her feel somewhat self-conscious but at the same time she felt the shiver of excitement as the gooseflesh rippled across her skin. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to try and soften them again.
The second guy, who thus far seemed to have directed all of his attention towards Heath, seemed to have started onto some kid of speech that sounded like it was bordering on a lecture. The snippets she caught made her smile a little to herself since by the sounds of it, Heath was perhaps a little over-protective of his sister. She had to turn away slightly to hide her expression, just in case he turned around and thought she was making fun of him, which would be terrible given that so far, heâs the nearest thing to a friend sheâs got so far. She glanced back over at Theo at mention that he was a tracker, which seemed an odd thing to bring up before she remembered that they were meant to be looking for Heathâs sister so that actually made perfect sense now that she thought it over.
The exchange in front of her was interrupted by the sound of a somewhat familiar voice that she couldnât quite place echoing throughout the camp. Though it wasnât until she heard his tone change to something more seductive, or at least a little teasing that she realised it was the boy sheâd met earlier. As his interaction with another girl started to get a little heated over the intercom, Veronica had to almost stuff her hand into her mouth as she burst out into a fit of giggles, almost doubling over as the awkward conversation continued. When everything went back to silence it took her a few moments to calm down and be able to breathe properly without laughing.
She saw Heath walking towards her, and nodded when he suggested she warn these two who she was in case they had a similar reaction to either Heath or Nicholas. She was a little surprised by Heathâs sudden departure but he clearly wanted to be alone after the other boy had given him a bit of a dressing down. So taking a deep breath she walked over to the two campers and did her best to introduce herself.
âum, hey. Not sure if you heard Heath, but yeah, Iâm the daughter of Aphrodite. Names Veronica, and as I told him if I had any friends theyâd call me Vi. Whatâre your names?â Her tone varied throughout her introduction, mumbling a little to start before barging straight into self-deprecating humour as she gave her hand a wave towards the two in introduction. Though, one of them had simply turned and walked away before sheâd started speaking in earnest and she wondered if the other boy had simply not heard her, but she definitely had the impression that he was ignoring her on purpose. Giving him a curious momentary glance, she returned her focus back to the other boy instead.
Veronica hadnât really known what to do with herself during the gap between the announcement and their gathering at the arena, nor did she really know what sheâd do during the actual training itself. After grabbing a little bit of food from the camps canteen, doing her best to avoid anyone else around she filled a water bottle before returning to the arena to wait. Sheâd kept her guitar with her since it would at least give her something to occupy her time with, so she'd simply lain back and gently strummed a tune while she waited for the rest of camp to filter in.
Nicholas, the great son of Poseidon sheâd encountered earlier took centre stage and began to run through some details of what they were going to be doing, and what she presumed was an update on other demigods who werenât returning to camp. That part piqued her interest, though since sheâd literally arrived that morning she had no idea what drama had been going on before. The thought of going into the arena to fight didnât exactly appeal to Veronica, but honestly what choice did she have. She was glad to finally know the name of the boy sheâd sent running into the woods, even if when heâd first announced it over the intercom. She still needed to apologise to him for that as it kind of made her feel a little sorry for him, especially since he was doing his best to be authoritative. Though that had probably went straight out of the window when heâd broadcast his âextracurricular activitiesâ all over the camp earlier.
Leaving her guitar leading against the stand sheâd been sitting on she sauntered down to the front and picked up a green token from the bag. Turning it over in her fingers she slowly made her way back to her seat, while glancing around to find the token sheâd spotted someone taking just before, and settling on a boy sitting next to Heath. The girl next to them must be his sister, but she looked rather uncomfortable and flighty as if she was about to make a break for it. There was definitely something familiar about her but Veronica still couldnât quite place it, so it might be worth trying to speak with her later on. And as she watched the girl almost have a breakdown as she went up for her own token, she decided later was probably best. Definitely later.
This was going to be a rough afternoon as far as Veronica was concerned.
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Wes wasn't surprised at the announcement of training later on. Although the borderline porn audio book was something he wasn't expecting to hear. He couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. What he'd give to see the reactions of the campers who were more... modest at camp. That would have been funny. He didn't have any plans, so instead he spent most of his afternoon wondering around camp hoping to avoid any spontaneous introductions if possible.
Once it was time for training, Wes reluctantly wandered his way over to the arena and took a seat beside Trinity. He gave her a soft kiss on the shoulder, not wanting to make much of a scene, nor was he a fan of PDA. It didn't take long for others to join. The son of Poseidon who called the training came hurrying in close to the final hour with an unknown raven haired girl in tow. Well, now he knew who the other participant over the P.A. was.
Wes tried his best to give Nick his attention as he introduced himself. But it was his next comment that caught his attention. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is." His brows furrowed as his gaze fell to his hands. The Valises were free to do as they pleased, but knowing Alex left without a goodbye or anything stung. He sighed softly, but tried his best not to linger on it.
Then the son of Poseidon moved his speech on to talk about the arena and their training. Wes knew he'd lose... When did he ever win a fight? He sighed and pushed off his knees to stand. He went over to the bag like everyone else and pulled out a token. Bronze. He tossed the chip once in the air, catching it and then returning to his seat beside Trinity. Unlike her, he hadn't really noticed the rain. It wouldn't make much of a difference to him when he got into the arena.
Wes smiled at Trinity and lightly tapped his token against hers. "At least you don't have to kick my butt."
Wes wasn't surprised at the announcement of training later on. Although the borderline porn audio book was something he wasn't expecting to hear. He couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. What he'd give to see the reactions of the campers who were more... modest at camp. That would have been funny. He didn't have any plans, so instead he spent most of his afternoon wondering around camp hoping to avoid any spontaneous introductions if possible.
Once it was time for training, Wes reluctantly wandered his way over to the arena and took a seat beside Trinity. He gave her a soft kiss on the shoulder, not wanting to make much of a scene, nor was he a fan of PDA. It didn't take long for others to join. The son of Poseidon who called the training came hurrying in close to the final hour with an unknown raven haired girl in tow. Well, now he knew who the other participant over the P.A. was.
Wes tried his best to give Nick his attention as he introduced himself. But it was his next comment that caught his attention. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is." His brows furrowed as his gaze fell to his hands. The Valises were free to do as they pleased, but knowing Alex left without a goodbye or anything stung. He sighed softly, but tried his best not to linger on it.
Then the son of Poseidon moved his speech on to talk about the arena and their training. Wes knew he'd lose... When did he ever win a fight? He sighed and pushed off his knees to stand. He went over to the bag like everyone else and pulled out a token. Bronze. He tossed the chip once in the air, catching it and then returning to his seat beside Trinity. Unlike her, he hadn't really noticed the rain. It wouldn't make much of a difference to him when he got into the arena.
Wes smiled at Trinity and lightly tapped his token against hers. "At least you don't have to kick my butt."
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Sloane did her best to entertain her company, but that never was her strong suit. She wasn't the most social person at camp and no matter how much she wanted to busy herself to keep her mind occupied she couldn't help but wonder about Liam. Eventually playing the part of social and friendly wore on her, so she excused herself into her new cabin.
There were plenty of things for her to do inside. It honestly wasn't as bad as it could have been. Sure the place had been neglected for a couple years, but nothing that a little elbow grease wouldn't work out. She quickly busied herself with cleaning and was happy to find that the cabin was still hooked up to electricity... or whatever magic power the camp used. Either way, the lights worked, the water ran and everything seemed to be in functioning order, just a little dusty and dirty.
She had just gotten elbow deep into scrubbing the bathroom when she heard a loud static P.A. announcement echo throughout camp. Sloane stopped for a moment, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she rested on her knees and listened. "Good morning, Campers." She groaned, rolling her eyes. He sounded far too chipper like some infomercial about a camp parents could send their kids to, but was secretly hell. "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training."
Sloane sighed, tossing her dirty rag into the bucket she was using. How could she have forgotten what Poseidon said about sending his son. She paid enough attention to the rest of what he said as she moved to her feet. When she thought the announcements were over she started pouring out the dirty water into the bathtub. "Whyâd you have to wear pants?" Her brows furrowed slightly, but she shook it off assuming she misheard him and perhaps it was about their dress code for training or something.
... Until she heard, "I want you to work for your meal." Her eyes widened in secondhand embarrassment. "And Iâm not fast food." Sloane gasped and her hands slipped, dropping the bucket. Dirty splashed all over the tub, bathroom and her. Thankfully the P.A. switched off before anything else unsavory replayed for all of camp to hear.
"Gods damn it," she sighed.
For the next couple of hours, Sloane continued to liven up her cabin. It didn't take too terribly long for her to finish cleaning and unpack her belongings. She even managed to wash the bed linens and hung them along her porch to dry. As long as the weather cooperated, they should be plenty dry by the time she went to bed. It was a small feat, getting this place back in working order, but she was actually a little proud of herself. She couldn't recall the last time she did something like this by herself for herself.
Once she finished, Sloane had just enough time to take a quick shower and change into clothing that was better suited for training. She took a little too long getting cleaned, but with a slight jog and wet hair, she managed to get to the arena in time. It wasn't really until that moment when she was faced with all the demigods that she realized one thing she did lack at camp was friends. She took a deep breath and put on her best brave face before taking a seat on one far side by herself.
The guy from the P.A. got up in front of everyone, introducing himself again and then proceeded with any other announcements he had about the training. Sloane was curious to discover that the Valises had left camp. It seemed that drama followed the pair wherever they went, but it felt cheap that the siblings who were in the middle of just as much drama as herself weren't also subjected to the trials. Perhaps that's why they left? She couldn't begin to try and understand that. Did she even share a word with either Ajax or Alex?
The training seemed straight forward... Or as straight forward as it could be. Liam and Trinity had both tried training her the other day but it just ended in Liam making her feel like shit and her knocking him to the ground. That hardly qualifies as a successful training in Sloane's opinion. She did some work in capture the flag, but again, it wasn't much. Something told her that she was going to fail terribly at this and better yet, it'd be in front of everyone. Maybe once everyone saw she wasn't a threat and forgettable she could continue her existence at camp being invisible.
Sloane waited for most of the others to grab their tokens. She wasn't in a rush and was hoping to avoid small talk if possible. When it was her turn, she grabbed the first one she touched and pulled it out. She didn't even really look at it until she returned to her seat. Purple. Other demigods might have looked around trying to sneak a peek and find their partners. But Sloane just slipped the token into the pocket of her yoga pants and waited patiently for her turn.
Sloane did her best to entertain her company, but that never was her strong suit. She wasn't the most social person at camp and no matter how much she wanted to busy herself to keep her mind occupied she couldn't help but wonder about Liam. Eventually playing the part of social and friendly wore on her, so she excused herself into her new cabin.
There were plenty of things for her to do inside. It honestly wasn't as bad as it could have been. Sure the place had been neglected for a couple years, but nothing that a little elbow grease wouldn't work out. She quickly busied herself with cleaning and was happy to find that the cabin was still hooked up to electricity... or whatever magic power the camp used. Either way, the lights worked, the water ran and everything seemed to be in functioning order, just a little dusty and dirty.
She had just gotten elbow deep into scrubbing the bathroom when she heard a loud static P.A. announcement echo throughout camp. Sloane stopped for a moment, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she rested on her knees and listened. "Good morning, Campers." She groaned, rolling her eyes. He sounded far too chipper like some infomercial about a camp parents could send their kids to, but was secretly hell. "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training."
Sloane sighed, tossing her dirty rag into the bucket she was using. How could she have forgotten what Poseidon said about sending his son. She paid enough attention to the rest of what he said as she moved to her feet. When she thought the announcements were over she started pouring out the dirty water into the bathtub. "Whyâd you have to wear pants?" Her brows furrowed slightly, but she shook it off assuming she misheard him and perhaps it was about their dress code for training or something.
... Until she heard, "I want you to work for your meal." Her eyes widened in secondhand embarrassment. "And Iâm not fast food." Sloane gasped and her hands slipped, dropping the bucket. Dirty splashed all over the tub, bathroom and her. Thankfully the P.A. switched off before anything else unsavory replayed for all of camp to hear.
"Gods damn it," she sighed.
For the next couple of hours, Sloane continued to liven up her cabin. It didn't take too terribly long for her to finish cleaning and unpack her belongings. She even managed to wash the bed linens and hung them along her porch to dry. As long as the weather cooperated, they should be plenty dry by the time she went to bed. It was a small feat, getting this place back in working order, but she was actually a little proud of herself. She couldn't recall the last time she did something like this by herself for herself.
Once she finished, Sloane had just enough time to take a quick shower and change into clothing that was better suited for training. She took a little too long getting cleaned, but with a slight jog and wet hair, she managed to get to the arena in time. It wasn't really until that moment when she was faced with all the demigods that she realized one thing she did lack at camp was friends. She took a deep breath and put on her best brave face before taking a seat on one far side by herself.
The guy from the P.A. got up in front of everyone, introducing himself again and then proceeded with any other announcements he had about the training. Sloane was curious to discover that the Valises had left camp. It seemed that drama followed the pair wherever they went, but it felt cheap that the siblings who were in the middle of just as much drama as herself weren't also subjected to the trials. Perhaps that's why they left? She couldn't begin to try and understand that. Did she even share a word with either Ajax or Alex?
The training seemed straight forward... Or as straight forward as it could be. Liam and Trinity had both tried training her the other day but it just ended in Liam making her feel like shit and her knocking him to the ground. That hardly qualifies as a successful training in Sloane's opinion. She did some work in capture the flag, but again, it wasn't much. Something told her that she was going to fail terribly at this and better yet, it'd be in front of everyone. Maybe once everyone saw she wasn't a threat and forgettable she could continue her existence at camp being invisible.
Sloane waited for most of the others to grab their tokens. She wasn't in a rush and was hoping to avoid small talk if possible. When it was her turn, she grabbed the first one she touched and pulled it out. She didn't even really look at it until she returned to her seat. Purple. Other demigods might have looked around trying to sneak a peek and find their partners. But Sloane just slipped the token into the pocket of her yoga pants and waited patiently for her turn.
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Andy smiled at Cherise and gave her a small wave before the girl left. The remaining trio sat in silence as they ate, or Trinity and Mason ate. Andy just kind of nibbled on her apple half-heartedly. Everything felt a little awkward, like there was an elephant in the room. And that elephant was sex. All three of them had engaged in the deed within the last 24 hours and none of them seemed keen on talking about it. The silence at the table was so palpable that they could hear a pin drop. It wasn't that what any of them did was wrong, but that didn't stop the morning after from being a bit awkward.
Then an unfamiliar voice rang out on the P.A.s catching her attention. "Good morning, Campers." Andy spared a glance to Mason and Trinity as she listened to the rest of the announcement. "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training. It is now... something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
"I donât hate training, but as if we havenât been pulled through the mud enough," Trinity commented.
Andy sighed, tapping her hands on the table. "I suppose we saw that coming. Although I thought we might have had a day toâ"
"Whyâd you have to wear pants?" The voice on the P.A. cut her off.
Blood quickly rushed to Andy's cheeks as she turned about as red as the apple in her hands. She didn't know if it was more embarrassing to hear what they were saying or to be them. But she quickly became interested in a chip in the table, picking at with her thumb as more comments were broadcasted. Thankfully it didn't last much longer and the intercom was finally switched. She let out the breath she was holding in with an awkward laugh.
"Yikes."
There was a moment or two of silence before Trinity looked between Andy and Mason with a tight smile. She then held out her plate to Andy with an impish grin. "Closest to kitchen has to chuck 'em away."
"What theâ" Andy started to say but stopped herself. "Fine. Fine," she groaned as she stood up and took Trinity's dishes with a roll of her eyes. If she was going to go she might as well take Mason's too. Andy looked down at him with her free hand hovering near his plate. "Finished?" When he didn't argue she took up his plate and headed toward the kitchen. She had no idea what Trinity was going to say to him and how much of it was going to be a threat, but a small part of her was happy not to know.
Andy took her time, making sure to steal glances towards the pair and waited until they seemed to be finished talking before returning. But it seemed just as she reached the table, Trinity was ready to go and got to her feet. "I'm gonna do a few things. Pre-train, bug Wes...think about getting changed for training." Then she waved and was off.
Her brows furrowed as she watched her friend leave. Part of Andy wanted to chase after her and force Trinity to tell her whatever she said to Mason, but instead she was left standing there like an idiot. "I'm sure you have some things you'd like to do before training. So, don't let me hold you up." She smiled slightly. "I have a book I was reading waiting back for me at my cabin anyway," she added with a thumb point over her shoulder in the general direction of the cabins.
She smiled at him once more, while brushing loose hair behind her ears. When Mason didn't argue she pivoted on her heels and headed out of the hall. First Andy started in the direction of the cabins. Did she have a book she was reading? No. But she also didn't want him to feel like he was obligated to spend time with her. Plus she was a bit embarrassed about how awkward she was acting. It was like after the night they spent together she completely forgot how to act around him. And while she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was scared of misstepping and somehow pushing him away.
Once she reached her cabin, Andy decided rather than sitting around for a few hours she'd grab her iPod and go find a nice quiet place to listen to music. She let her feet carry her whichever way until she ended up in a spot at the edge of the woods not too far from Jennova's grave. She couldn't see it from where she was, but Andy was familiar enough with the area to know it wasn't far off. She settled into a comfy spot at the base of a tree and rested her head against the trunk. It wasn't much, but a little time to herself might help her clear her mind and prepare for training.
At some point in the shade of the tree, Andy managed to doze off. When she awoke it was nearly time for training. Luckily she wasn't dressed in the worse clothes for it because she had no time to stop by her cabin. She rubbed her eyes and shoved her iPod in her pocket before heading toward the arena. When she arrived she noticed Trinity already seated and waiting. Andy decided to take a seat next to her, giving both the blonde and Wes a friendly little wave and smile.
A tanned brunette boy stood up and began to address the rest of them. "As I stated before, I am Nicholas Bower, son of Poseidon. As youâve heard, I will be assisting you all in your training. The gods have all agreed that Camp Athens has ventured away from its original purpose." Well, at least she could put a face to the voice she supposed. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is."
Andy's heart sank. Whether she chose Mason or not wasn't the point, nor did it cancel out her past with Ajax. She might not have been with him, but she still cared about him. She was already hurt that he didn't come to see her in the infirmary after his sister nearly killed her and now he left camp without so much as a good bye. Andy clenched her jaw, trying not to let it get to her... Or to, at least, try and hide the anger she felt. She knew she didn't come first in Ajax's eyes, but she thought he would have at least had the decency to tell her he was leaving. Apparently not.
She could feel Trinity's gaze on her, judging her reaction to the news. Andy looked over at her and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. It wasn't worth bringing attention to it. She knew where she lied on Ajax's priorities... She didn't. Fine. If anything it squashed some of the guilt she felt and reaffirmed her decisions in the trials. He made his choice and she made hers. And she'd be damned if she got some self righteous lecture from Ajax if he ever decided to return.
To be honest, Andy half paid attention to anything Nick said after that, but it was fine. She wasn't dumb and could connect the dots. "If you grab a blue one, youâll join me in the arena for the first dual." She followed everyone else and grabbed her token. It wasn't until Andy had returned to her seat that she looked down and noticed that hers was blue.
Andy sighed. "I guess I'm up first," she mumbled under her breath to Trinity. She glanced over her shoulder toward the arena and Nick, then back to her friend. "Poseidon, right? I guess it's a good thing I can swim," she jested as she took off her cardigan and laid it down on her seat. Then, with token in hand, she head toward the arena.
Andy smiled at Cherise and gave her a small wave before the girl left. The remaining trio sat in silence as they ate, or Trinity and Mason ate. Andy just kind of nibbled on her apple half-heartedly. Everything felt a little awkward, like there was an elephant in the room. And that elephant was sex. All three of them had engaged in the deed within the last 24 hours and none of them seemed keen on talking about it. The silence at the table was so palpable that they could hear a pin drop. It wasn't that what any of them did was wrong, but that didn't stop the morning after from being a bit awkward.
Then an unfamiliar voice rang out on the P.A.s catching her attention. "Good morning, Campers." Andy spared a glance to Mason and Trinity as she listened to the rest of the announcement. "Iâm Nicholas Bower, and as youâve heard from Poseidon, I will be assisting in your training. It is now... something oâclock, so be ready at the training arena at 4:30 pm sharp. This training is mandatory. Be dressed for the part, and everything else will be provided for you."
"I donât hate training, but as if we havenât been pulled through the mud enough," Trinity commented.
Andy sighed, tapping her hands on the table. "I suppose we saw that coming. Although I thought we might have had a day toâ"
"Whyâd you have to wear pants?" The voice on the P.A. cut her off.
Blood quickly rushed to Andy's cheeks as she turned about as red as the apple in her hands. She didn't know if it was more embarrassing to hear what they were saying or to be them. But she quickly became interested in a chip in the table, picking at with her thumb as more comments were broadcasted. Thankfully it didn't last much longer and the intercom was finally switched. She let out the breath she was holding in with an awkward laugh.
"Yikes."
There was a moment or two of silence before Trinity looked between Andy and Mason with a tight smile. She then held out her plate to Andy with an impish grin. "Closest to kitchen has to chuck 'em away."
"What theâ" Andy started to say but stopped herself. "Fine. Fine," she groaned as she stood up and took Trinity's dishes with a roll of her eyes. If she was going to go she might as well take Mason's too. Andy looked down at him with her free hand hovering near his plate. "Finished?" When he didn't argue she took up his plate and headed toward the kitchen. She had no idea what Trinity was going to say to him and how much of it was going to be a threat, but a small part of her was happy not to know.
Andy took her time, making sure to steal glances towards the pair and waited until they seemed to be finished talking before returning. But it seemed just as she reached the table, Trinity was ready to go and got to her feet. "I'm gonna do a few things. Pre-train, bug Wes...think about getting changed for training." Then she waved and was off.
Her brows furrowed as she watched her friend leave. Part of Andy wanted to chase after her and force Trinity to tell her whatever she said to Mason, but instead she was left standing there like an idiot. "I'm sure you have some things you'd like to do before training. So, don't let me hold you up." She smiled slightly. "I have a book I was reading waiting back for me at my cabin anyway," she added with a thumb point over her shoulder in the general direction of the cabins.
She smiled at him once more, while brushing loose hair behind her ears. When Mason didn't argue she pivoted on her heels and headed out of the hall. First Andy started in the direction of the cabins. Did she have a book she was reading? No. But she also didn't want him to feel like he was obligated to spend time with her. Plus she was a bit embarrassed about how awkward she was acting. It was like after the night they spent together she completely forgot how to act around him. And while she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was scared of misstepping and somehow pushing him away.
Once she reached her cabin, Andy decided rather than sitting around for a few hours she'd grab her iPod and go find a nice quiet place to listen to music. She let her feet carry her whichever way until she ended up in a spot at the edge of the woods not too far from Jennova's grave. She couldn't see it from where she was, but Andy was familiar enough with the area to know it wasn't far off. She settled into a comfy spot at the base of a tree and rested her head against the trunk. It wasn't much, but a little time to herself might help her clear her mind and prepare for training.
* * *
At some point in the shade of the tree, Andy managed to doze off. When she awoke it was nearly time for training. Luckily she wasn't dressed in the worse clothes for it because she had no time to stop by her cabin. She rubbed her eyes and shoved her iPod in her pocket before heading toward the arena. When she arrived she noticed Trinity already seated and waiting. Andy decided to take a seat next to her, giving both the blonde and Wes a friendly little wave and smile.
A tanned brunette boy stood up and began to address the rest of them. "As I stated before, I am Nicholas Bower, son of Poseidon. As youâve heard, I will be assisting you all in your training. The gods have all agreed that Camp Athens has ventured away from its original purpose." Well, at least she could put a face to the voice she supposed. "Before I get to training, I do have to update you all on the status of the Valis children. They won't be returning to camp. I wasnât given any other info. Just relaying the deets⊠So there it is."
Andy's heart sank. Whether she chose Mason or not wasn't the point, nor did it cancel out her past with Ajax. She might not have been with him, but she still cared about him. She was already hurt that he didn't come to see her in the infirmary after his sister nearly killed her and now he left camp without so much as a good bye. Andy clenched her jaw, trying not to let it get to her... Or to, at least, try and hide the anger she felt. She knew she didn't come first in Ajax's eyes, but she thought he would have at least had the decency to tell her he was leaving. Apparently not.
She could feel Trinity's gaze on her, judging her reaction to the news. Andy looked over at her and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. It wasn't worth bringing attention to it. She knew where she lied on Ajax's priorities... She didn't. Fine. If anything it squashed some of the guilt she felt and reaffirmed her decisions in the trials. He made his choice and she made hers. And she'd be damned if she got some self righteous lecture from Ajax if he ever decided to return.
To be honest, Andy half paid attention to anything Nick said after that, but it was fine. She wasn't dumb and could connect the dots. "If you grab a blue one, youâll join me in the arena for the first dual." She followed everyone else and grabbed her token. It wasn't until Andy had returned to her seat that she looked down and noticed that hers was blue.
Andy sighed. "I guess I'm up first," she mumbled under her breath to Trinity. She glanced over her shoulder toward the arena and Nick, then back to her friend. "Poseidon, right? I guess it's a good thing I can swim," she jested as she took off her cardigan and laid it down on her seat. Then, with token in hand, she head toward the arena.
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Liv was almost to the point where she was thinking about flopping onto her bed and sleeping forever. Whilst she felt a little more confidence in the face of Sylas, on her own she was doubtful. Instead of passing out, as she had intended, she sat on the edge of her bed glaring at a tall mirror.
Something had to change.
She tilted her head; her short hair sliding from one shoulder to the other. Her thoughts carried her down the darker spectrum of emotion, and that road led right to Sylasâ face. As handsome as the man was, he had vile undertones that would be very beneficial to the woman that hoped to be next in line to her fatherâs throne. At this point, she was more than willing to depose the god despite the unlikely chance sheâd even get remotely close to that point.
Yes, Sylas would be the most beneficial person to her here. Being by his side would be advantageous in just about every way. The daughter of Poseidon might not be as coy as the son of Eris, but it didnât mean she couldnât learn. Liv was a quick study. While his eyes might linger on a certain vibrant redhead at camp, he was not uninterested in her.
She stood up and decided, right then and there, that she was going to have that partnership in whatever form it will come. Sylas was⊠admittedly frightening, to the degree in which his mind and motives were not quite certain yet. It wouldnât take much for him to manipulate Liv without her own awareness. But if she didnât give him a reason to use her like that, then there may not be much to worry about.
When she left her room, grabbed her coat, and opened the door to her cabin to head back out to him, he was right there. She must have not heard the knocking because there was a surprised expression on her face. "So... What kind of partnership did you have in mind?"
Liv tilted her head back to look up at him, and her coat just sort of slipped out of her grasp and onto the floor. With a smirk of her own, "The⊠brazen and dangerous kind of partnership." She stepped toward him until there was no more space left to steal, "Hmm, the dominating kind." In what way? That could mean anything, but she left it up for interpretation. Liv, herself, meant it in more than just one way.
Her chest was against his, but Sylas didnât mind. He liked a woman who took charge, but there was still a part of him that had to assert its own dominance. Even with no space between their bodies, he took a step forward. His left hand hooked around the small of her back making sure the sudden move didnât knock her off her feet. "Are you sure you want to dance with the devil?"
It was then that the announcements came over the P.A. system, which gave the pair a good time frame to work with. She began to step backward, both hands at the small of her back with a slightly tilted head that accompanied a devious grin, "Coming in? We have a few hours, after all." Before she realized it, she had hit the counter in the small kitchen area with the small of her back; her fingers grabbing hold onto the edge.
Sylasâs head cocked at the announcements. He couldnât fight a small chuckle that rumbled in the back of his throat hearing the two unknown demigods partake in some salacious acts. He couldnât help but feel a sense of familiarity when he heard the seductive purr of the womanâs voice. But he couldnât quite connect the dots before the P.A. was silenced. A mystery for another time.
He let his hand slowly slip from her waist as Liv backed into her cabin, only stopping when she met the counter. Sylas hesitated in the doorway for a moment before he leaned down to grab the discarded jacket. As he stood back up, he slowly stepped inside, closing the cabin door behind them. Now they were alone, truly. There had only been one other time when they were left to their own devices and the pair became nothing more than a pair of ravenous animals.
Slowly, he crossed the cabin, closing the distance between himself and Liv. He was in no rush. They had a few hours. Sylas could sense her anticipation as he took another step forward, holding her gaze intently as he did so. It was only when he stood close enough that the fabric of their shirts brushed that he stopped. His arm reached around her to place the jacket on the counter.
But he didnât withdraw his arm. Instead, his other hand moved to rest on the counter on the other side Liv, keeping her stuck in place. "And what should we do to pass the time?" His voice was deep and rough as he whispered to her. With his final word, Sylas closed the last bit of distance between them. He pressed his chest into hers, pinning her back against the counter.
Liv was honestly a mix of nervous and excited. Sylas was dangerous - of that there was no doubt, and there was a good chance that this whole thing could go very sour for her. But there was also the chance that it wouldnât. It was somewhere between those two thoughts that her body felt⊠exhilarated and eager to find out. Hence, here they were. There wasnât anything left to say, and there was definitely no turning back.
The cabin was silent. The only sound filling the room was their own heaving breaths and racing hearts. Sylasâs hands moved from the edge of the counter and slowly ran down her back. His fingers caressed her bottom before hooking around the back of her thighs and hoisting her up onto the counter. His mouth found the corner of her jaw just below her earlobe. With gentle nibbles and hot breath, his lips slowly trailed their way down her neck to her collarbone.
As Sylasâ lips trailed across her skin, she rolled her head back for easier access. Her grip on the counter seemed impossibly hard. Whatever she had to say (and she did have something to say) was immediately swallowed. She tightened her thighs around his hips, doing her part in bringing him closer - if possible at all.
Sylas wasnât going to fill the silence with more empty words. His left hand cupped the base of her skull and pulled her closer so that their lips could finally meet. It wasnât a tender or loving kiss, but raw, intense, and primal. He kept her there for a moment or two before his right hand lightly pressed against her chest, laying her back on the counter. His lips caressed whatever exposed skin they could find as his fingers busied themselves with her pants. Once Liv was unencumbered, his head moved south until it found a home between her thighs.
As the hours progressed and their voracious appetite slowly became appeased, the couple ended up on the coffee table. The cabin was in disarray from the kitchen to the bedroom, and clothes were strewn about. With the final lull in their escapades, Sylas raised his hand to look at his watch. A sigh escaped his lips. 4:15 pm. He slowly sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He had no desire to train or do much of anything. To be honest, he would have preferred a nap and perhaps a second round, but that didnât look to be in the cards⊠At least, not at that moment.
Sylas groaned softly as he pushed off his knees and stood up. He slowly searched the cabin finding stray pieces of clothing in the strangest of places, on the lampshade, at the foot of the bed⊠in the bathroom sink? He actually managed a chuckle as he retrieved it having a hard time remembering how or why it ended up in there. He made his way back to Liv where he offered her the clothes that were hers. "Youâd be surprised where I found some of these." He flashed her a playful smirk before he dressed.
Liv laughed as she took the clothes from him and slid into them, "Iâm not all that surprised." After she located her shoes, she took a moment to look into a mirror and adjust herself. There were some marks here and there - maybe even a hickey or two bruised into her neck and collarbone. She could hide them, but⊠why bother? She couldnât even be fussed to fix her disheveled hair. Seeing how Nicholas pretty much announced his sexual escapades to the whole camp, no one would bat an eye at her.
He made his way over to the door after slipping on his shoes and looked back over his shoulder toward Liv. "Coming?" He asked while nodding his head in the general direction of the rest of camp. "Or would you prefer our⊠partnership remain a secret?" The ball was in Livâs court. Sylas wasnât the type of guy to get offended if she wished for them to both arrive separately, but he also wouldnât be opposed to seeing some reactions if they arrived together either.
Liv didnât put much thought into it, and she wasnât sure why he asked her the question. Instead of answering him directly, she skipped a bit toward him, linked an arm with his, and proceeded to tug them out of the cabin. "Iâm not that into secrets," she confessed. "People stay away from me, they stay away from you - we give off the perfect repelling aura."
Sylas raised a brow and his smirk only grew. She wasnât wrong, and after the day they had yesterday he could use a little more of that stay the fuck away energy. He didnât know if he could compose himself if Nelly or another annoying camper felt like bothering him. And, while he might not admit it, he actually enjoyed Livâs company. He didnât have to pretend to be anything other than what he was with her and it was relieving. If people at camp knew what he was really like they wouldnât come anywhere near him⊠But not Liv.
As the pair made their way toward the arena, Liv had pulled away and shoved her hands into her pockets. She didnât shy away from anyone, rather injected herself right into a space where there were more people than not. Her demeanor had completely shifted to⊠not giving a flying fuck. She kicked her heeled boots up onto the seat in front of her, leaned back, and listened to her brotherâs mouth flap.
While Livâs demeanor shifted as they approached the arena, Sylasâs remained ultimately the same. He didnât question it or argue when she withdrew her arm and similarly slid his own hands into his pockets. Even with the tough act, he still walked alongside her and sat beside her. He paid some attention to what the son of Poseidon said, but more to what he was like. After all, this was the person he agreed to help get rid of and it was beneficial to know what he was going up against. A rather boring and unimaginative meathead, if you asked him.
"Gods, heâs such an idiot."
Sylas leaned his head toward Liv slightly, but kept his gaze on Nick. "I can handle idiots," he commented quiet enough that only she could hear.
She left her seat only to grab her token but then went right back to it. She didnât give Nicholas the courtesy of looking at him, and he was cool with that. It was better that way.
Like everyone else, Sylas stood and retrieved a token. Gold. He caught glimpses of some passing demigods and the small piece of plastic in their hands, but from what he saw none matched his own. It didnât matter. All he cared about was not going up against his sister⊠And maybe Liam. Although giving the hulk another trip to Tartarus would be a spectacular way to end the day.
Something had to change.
She tilted her head; her short hair sliding from one shoulder to the other. Her thoughts carried her down the darker spectrum of emotion, and that road led right to Sylasâ face. As handsome as the man was, he had vile undertones that would be very beneficial to the woman that hoped to be next in line to her fatherâs throne. At this point, she was more than willing to depose the god despite the unlikely chance sheâd even get remotely close to that point.
Yes, Sylas would be the most beneficial person to her here. Being by his side would be advantageous in just about every way. The daughter of Poseidon might not be as coy as the son of Eris, but it didnât mean she couldnât learn. Liv was a quick study. While his eyes might linger on a certain vibrant redhead at camp, he was not uninterested in her.
She stood up and decided, right then and there, that she was going to have that partnership in whatever form it will come. Sylas was⊠admittedly frightening, to the degree in which his mind and motives were not quite certain yet. It wouldnât take much for him to manipulate Liv without her own awareness. But if she didnât give him a reason to use her like that, then there may not be much to worry about.
When she left her room, grabbed her coat, and opened the door to her cabin to head back out to him, he was right there. She must have not heard the knocking because there was a surprised expression on her face. "So... What kind of partnership did you have in mind?"
Liv tilted her head back to look up at him, and her coat just sort of slipped out of her grasp and onto the floor. With a smirk of her own, "The⊠brazen and dangerous kind of partnership." She stepped toward him until there was no more space left to steal, "Hmm, the dominating kind." In what way? That could mean anything, but she left it up for interpretation. Liv, herself, meant it in more than just one way.
Her chest was against his, but Sylas didnât mind. He liked a woman who took charge, but there was still a part of him that had to assert its own dominance. Even with no space between their bodies, he took a step forward. His left hand hooked around the small of her back making sure the sudden move didnât knock her off her feet. "Are you sure you want to dance with the devil?"
It was then that the announcements came over the P.A. system, which gave the pair a good time frame to work with. She began to step backward, both hands at the small of her back with a slightly tilted head that accompanied a devious grin, "Coming in? We have a few hours, after all." Before she realized it, she had hit the counter in the small kitchen area with the small of her back; her fingers grabbing hold onto the edge.
Sylasâs head cocked at the announcements. He couldnât fight a small chuckle that rumbled in the back of his throat hearing the two unknown demigods partake in some salacious acts. He couldnât help but feel a sense of familiarity when he heard the seductive purr of the womanâs voice. But he couldnât quite connect the dots before the P.A. was silenced. A mystery for another time.
He let his hand slowly slip from her waist as Liv backed into her cabin, only stopping when she met the counter. Sylas hesitated in the doorway for a moment before he leaned down to grab the discarded jacket. As he stood back up, he slowly stepped inside, closing the cabin door behind them. Now they were alone, truly. There had only been one other time when they were left to their own devices and the pair became nothing more than a pair of ravenous animals.
Slowly, he crossed the cabin, closing the distance between himself and Liv. He was in no rush. They had a few hours. Sylas could sense her anticipation as he took another step forward, holding her gaze intently as he did so. It was only when he stood close enough that the fabric of their shirts brushed that he stopped. His arm reached around her to place the jacket on the counter.
But he didnât withdraw his arm. Instead, his other hand moved to rest on the counter on the other side Liv, keeping her stuck in place. "And what should we do to pass the time?" His voice was deep and rough as he whispered to her. With his final word, Sylas closed the last bit of distance between them. He pressed his chest into hers, pinning her back against the counter.
Liv was honestly a mix of nervous and excited. Sylas was dangerous - of that there was no doubt, and there was a good chance that this whole thing could go very sour for her. But there was also the chance that it wouldnât. It was somewhere between those two thoughts that her body felt⊠exhilarated and eager to find out. Hence, here they were. There wasnât anything left to say, and there was definitely no turning back.
The cabin was silent. The only sound filling the room was their own heaving breaths and racing hearts. Sylasâs hands moved from the edge of the counter and slowly ran down her back. His fingers caressed her bottom before hooking around the back of her thighs and hoisting her up onto the counter. His mouth found the corner of her jaw just below her earlobe. With gentle nibbles and hot breath, his lips slowly trailed their way down her neck to her collarbone.
As Sylasâ lips trailed across her skin, she rolled her head back for easier access. Her grip on the counter seemed impossibly hard. Whatever she had to say (and she did have something to say) was immediately swallowed. She tightened her thighs around his hips, doing her part in bringing him closer - if possible at all.
Sylas wasnât going to fill the silence with more empty words. His left hand cupped the base of her skull and pulled her closer so that their lips could finally meet. It wasnât a tender or loving kiss, but raw, intense, and primal. He kept her there for a moment or two before his right hand lightly pressed against her chest, laying her back on the counter. His lips caressed whatever exposed skin they could find as his fingers busied themselves with her pants. Once Liv was unencumbered, his head moved south until it found a home between her thighs.
* * *
As the hours progressed and their voracious appetite slowly became appeased, the couple ended up on the coffee table. The cabin was in disarray from the kitchen to the bedroom, and clothes were strewn about. With the final lull in their escapades, Sylas raised his hand to look at his watch. A sigh escaped his lips. 4:15 pm. He slowly sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He had no desire to train or do much of anything. To be honest, he would have preferred a nap and perhaps a second round, but that didnât look to be in the cards⊠At least, not at that moment.
Sylas groaned softly as he pushed off his knees and stood up. He slowly searched the cabin finding stray pieces of clothing in the strangest of places, on the lampshade, at the foot of the bed⊠in the bathroom sink? He actually managed a chuckle as he retrieved it having a hard time remembering how or why it ended up in there. He made his way back to Liv where he offered her the clothes that were hers. "Youâd be surprised where I found some of these." He flashed her a playful smirk before he dressed.
Liv laughed as she took the clothes from him and slid into them, "Iâm not all that surprised." After she located her shoes, she took a moment to look into a mirror and adjust herself. There were some marks here and there - maybe even a hickey or two bruised into her neck and collarbone. She could hide them, but⊠why bother? She couldnât even be fussed to fix her disheveled hair. Seeing how Nicholas pretty much announced his sexual escapades to the whole camp, no one would bat an eye at her.
He made his way over to the door after slipping on his shoes and looked back over his shoulder toward Liv. "Coming?" He asked while nodding his head in the general direction of the rest of camp. "Or would you prefer our⊠partnership remain a secret?" The ball was in Livâs court. Sylas wasnât the type of guy to get offended if she wished for them to both arrive separately, but he also wouldnât be opposed to seeing some reactions if they arrived together either.
Liv didnât put much thought into it, and she wasnât sure why he asked her the question. Instead of answering him directly, she skipped a bit toward him, linked an arm with his, and proceeded to tug them out of the cabin. "Iâm not that into secrets," she confessed. "People stay away from me, they stay away from you - we give off the perfect repelling aura."
Sylas raised a brow and his smirk only grew. She wasnât wrong, and after the day they had yesterday he could use a little more of that stay the fuck away energy. He didnât know if he could compose himself if Nelly or another annoying camper felt like bothering him. And, while he might not admit it, he actually enjoyed Livâs company. He didnât have to pretend to be anything other than what he was with her and it was relieving. If people at camp knew what he was really like they wouldnât come anywhere near him⊠But not Liv.
As the pair made their way toward the arena, Liv had pulled away and shoved her hands into her pockets. She didnât shy away from anyone, rather injected herself right into a space where there were more people than not. Her demeanor had completely shifted to⊠not giving a flying fuck. She kicked her heeled boots up onto the seat in front of her, leaned back, and listened to her brotherâs mouth flap.
While Livâs demeanor shifted as they approached the arena, Sylasâs remained ultimately the same. He didnât question it or argue when she withdrew her arm and similarly slid his own hands into his pockets. Even with the tough act, he still walked alongside her and sat beside her. He paid some attention to what the son of Poseidon said, but more to what he was like. After all, this was the person he agreed to help get rid of and it was beneficial to know what he was going up against. A rather boring and unimaginative meathead, if you asked him.
"Gods, heâs such an idiot."
Sylas leaned his head toward Liv slightly, but kept his gaze on Nick. "I can handle idiots," he commented quiet enough that only she could hear.
She left her seat only to grab her token but then went right back to it. She didnât give Nicholas the courtesy of looking at him, and he was cool with that. It was better that way.
Like everyone else, Sylas stood and retrieved a token. Gold. He caught glimpses of some passing demigods and the small piece of plastic in their hands, but from what he saw none matched his own. It didnât matter. All he cared about was not going up against his sister⊠And maybe Liam. Although giving the hulk another trip to Tartarus would be a spectacular way to end the day.
x
x
x
x
x
"Do I really . . . . have to . . . train? . . . . I can't . . . control my powers . . . . I've killed before . . ." a small voice reached out to him, and he looked up at the sky to note the clouds that had flooded in. The rain, however light it was, came unexpectedly on an otherwise decent day.
He sighed and looked down at her, attempting to be as reassuring as he could be without hurting the poor girlâs feelings, "If you never face your fears, you will never get past them. The only way to get past whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, is to go right through them. Whatâs done is done. Letâs not forget that." He looked around, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, and gently turned her to face her peers, "You may be surprised that youâre not the only one with demons. We canât control the past, but we can control what we learn from it." Heâd leave her to reflect on that. While he hadnât told her that sheâd be going through the training directly, he knew that she was smart enough to read in between the lines.
Like one might a quarter, he tossed the blue token into the air and snatched it up. He did this a couple of times. A womanâs tears didnât really sting him as much, but that didnât mean he wanted to be the source of it. Whatâs with Camp Athensâ females? Gods, he prayed quietly for a male opponent while also hoping it wouldnât start pouring rain. His pea-brained head didnât connect the dots that the weather change might have been part of Ilianaâs lack of control, but he did wonder why it went from sunny to potentially showering.
"Nothingâs going right. The only other thing that could go wrong is I might have to beat up some dudeâs girlfriend," he laughed at himself as he thought of all the potential female scenarios he would be aligned with. Only because he felt that his magnetic pull for the opposite sex hadnât quite weakened yet. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tossed the token on the ground and let it roll away⊠someplace.
Andy stepped into the arena just in time to step on the blue token before it rolled away. She leaned down to pick it up before walking over toward Nick. "I hope you didnât overexert yourself," she commented with a knowing smirk as she dropped both of the blue tokens into his hand. "Iâd hate to embarrass you on your first day of camp," she concluded with a playful grin.
Taking that as a prime example of being flirted with, he accepted the tokens in the same playful manner, only he had the deep rumble of some serious salacious tones, "Are you sure youâre not asking to see if I am available later? Iâm not that tired at all." Since he has uber chest muscles, he did that thing where his pecs bounced around at his command and winked before turning away to distance himself. "I will be available later, by the way, and I donât get embarrassed very easily! Obviously." he called out to her, lifting a hand in a backhanded wave. "Good luck, Princesa." He had to add some additional teasing in there alongside the drawl of his native accent.
Andy just stood there for a moment in shock at the son of Poseidonâs brazen attempts at flirting. She supposed there was a first for everything. "Itâs Andy," She corrected as she rolled her eyes and spun around on her heels. As she made her way to the opposite side of the arena, she took a hair tie from around her wrist and tied her hair back in a ponytail.
Unlike some of the other demigods who might have water, fire, or who knows what at their disposal inside the arena, for her it was quite basic. There were a couple of weapons racks and a table that displayed just about any sort of weapon she could want. Anything and everything was available, but rather than going for the largest and most intimidating blades, she settled for a small, rather basic, looking set of throwing knives. Andy leaned down to faster the holster around her right thigh before turning to face Nick.
He wouldnât dare say it out loud, but she looked like he was going to get his ass handed to him. Itâs always the women that are the most vicious! He wasnât even going to dare ask her parentage.
With one hand in a pocket, he flicked the tokens into the air - together they disappeared, signaling the beginning of the match. While there were no barriers visible to the naked eye, there was a bubble of magic protecting the spectators from whatever their peers would dish out. Nothing could break through it - not influence, fire - nothing.
Much like Andromeda, the son of Poseidon was a basic Demigod. All he needed was what he is already surrounded by; slabs of stone, earth, and himself. The whole water thing was more or less Livâs ordeal, not his. He could do without it. The only source of water glimmered at his feet when he stopped and turned around to face his opponent. He bent low, reached down, and dove his right arm into the seemingly shallow pool. He dragged his arm out, a black and gold hilt with the mighty trident embedded into it, was slowly being tugged out. Eventually, the whole gladius was produced.
"Nice party trick," she humored.
He tossed her a goofy grin, "Anytime."
If Andromeda thought sheâd be dealing with the typical Poseidon kid; envisioning drowning or something of that sort, she was about to be dead wrong. With a smirk, he gestured her to go ahead with the sweep of a hand, "Ready when you are."
Andy was never really one to throw the first punch. So it was a first for her having to initiate the fight. She could charge him, but Nick was larger and stronger than her. It would be in her best interest to keep as much distance between them for as long as possible. Whether or no her opponent was expecting a quick fight or not, that she didnât know. She might not look like a threat, but unlike him, she wasnât trying to impress anyone either.
She looked around for inspiration to strike when her gaze settled on the weapon racks around her. Andy held out her right hand, tensing it like she was gripping something no one could see. Her fingers curled like claws as her muscles visibly tensed. For a moment it might have looked odd, but when her hand jerked a few inches upwards, every weapon behind her lifted up into the air. She turned her attention towards Nick, holding his gaze for a moment or two before she threw her hand forward. With the motion, every dagger, spear, sword, and any other weapon flew through the air like missiles locked on the son of Poseidon.
The moment all of those extremely pointy items ended up pointed at him, he held his free hand up in defense, "Woah, woah! Was it the pec dance thing? I wonât do that anymore. Damn!" The women here really held grudges, didnât they? Of course, Nicholas was also having fun - both poking fun at himself and the situation.
Alas, every single one of those weapons flew right toward him! He turned away and started to run, and it was quite comical. However, in a second or two after that, he got really serious very quickly. As if he was going for a âjust kiddingâ moment, he turned on his heels and faced the incoming trajectories. He stomped one of his feet hard against the ground, and for a half-a-heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then some invisible force slammed into the weapons, though a spear managed to escape the shockwave and burrow into his left shoulder. "Ah, shhhhhhhiiii-," his would be expletively dragged into a pained groan, and it took another second for the ground to start trembling. It cracked and splintered every which way, causing schisms and sudden uneven ground. Some of the fissures were deep and wide, and others shallow - but the overall arena had become a craggy ground where one wrong step could send either tumbling into the depths.
He broke the spear off at the shaft, leaving the rest in there so he didnât bleed out all over the place. He was dumb as a box of rocks, but he was extremely practical.
The shockwave rolled across the arena, slamming into Andy. The force sent her tumbling backward. She only came to a stop when she collided with the stone wall that surrounded the coliseum. The ground trembled beneath her. It was almost like trying to stand on top of rushing water. Sheâd get halfway to her feet only for a fissure to slice the ground underfoot and knock her off balance. The crack only seemed to grow as she struggled to stand. But before she could gain her balance, the earth opened and swallowed her.
Andy barely managed to grab a hold of the edge before disappearing into the depths below. For a moment or two, she struggled to try and pull herself up, but her upper body strength was abysmal and all she was doing was wearing herself out faster. Her gaze darted around, looking for a solution when she saw a large rock break off from the ground and fall into the chasm. In a test of faith, in herself, Andy released her hold. And while she instantly disappeared from view, she quickly held out her hands toward the rock, willing it to shift course and stop beneath her, catching her fall.
After landing, her hand flicked sending another rock flying through the air, stopping it a little higher than the first like a step. Andy kept repeating this action, bringing more debris towards her, making a makeshift staircase. But instead of stopping once she reached the top, she kept going, raising herself several feet about Nick and the arena. Now with the high ground, Andy grabbed a throwing knife and threw it at her opponent. Rocks froze, hovering in the air like stepping stones as she lept from one to another, circling him like a vulture as she hurled knife after knife.
It would seem that Andy found the weak spot in his ability very quickly, but Nicholas wasnât mad at her for it. In fact, he looked pretty happy! He wasnât trying to impress anyone with his powers. Heâd rather impress the girls with dancing pecs, but thatâs another story. Maybe if he got his ass handed to him, heâd be able to shed off the whole babysitter son of Poseidon image. So while being beaten might anger someone else, he was lowkey grateful for a challenge.
By this time, there wasnât a lot of ground to move around on safely. Nick couldnât manipulate the rocks, but he could do other things. Just as he thought about one thing, Andromeda had other ideas - namely, more pointy objects to hurl at him. The big guy really wasnât all that fast given his size, so two to three daggers made their mark; one sinking into an arm, another into a leg, and the last one grazed his side. The rest he could manage to swat aside with the gladius, or even duck and dance away from in a rather uncoordinated manner.
Once he was just really tired of dodging and swatting at incoming blades, he decided to move out of his defensive position. He crouched down low then propelled himself up into the air. Heâd land on one of the levitating stones, using them in the same way she had. The force of each landing caused the floating staircase to crumble one by one, and when he eventually lept toward the last one - the one that had Andromeda - he barrelled into her with full force. Nicholas knocked them both off of the rock and, together, they plunged into a dark fissure with uncertain depth.
At first, Andy wasnât concerned when Nick began to climb the rocks. She just kept adding to the floating staircase and climbed higher. But before she knew it, the abundance of rocks below began to dwindle and every makeshift step crumbled beneath him as he made his way toward her. She levitated the last rock and as it raised to her, she looked back over her shoulder just as Nick charged into her. Andy gasped as the wind was knocked out of her and the collision sent them both tumbling off the rocks, into the chasm, disappearing out of sight of the other demigods.
They fell so quickly she hadnât a clue which way was up or down. The darkness quickly devoured them, only the small slice in the earth above lending any light or sense of direction. At first, Andy clung to Nick, as anyone would when they thought they were falling to their death. But somewhere during the plummet logic took over reminding her that this was only training and she couldnât die⊠At least she hoped. She couldnât see him in the darkness but she could feel his hold on her. In a last-ditch attempt to get the upper hand, Andy wrestled against his grasp, managing to put her foot against his chest. With all the strength she could muster she kicked off him and sent them both spiraling in opposite directions until they crashed into a pull of water.
The tension of the water stunned Andy as she hit the surface then quickly began to swallow her. Then there was panic. Water filled her lungs where air should be as she frantically kicked, praying she was heading for the surface, not the depths below. She was no daughter of Poseidon. She couldnât breathe underwater. And whatever logic she had left at that moment only replaced with a fear of drowning and a rush of adrenalin as her fight or flight kicked in. As she desperately searched for the surface her hand found the rocky side of the ravine. It was just enough to help her find the light of the sky above and led her up to the surface.
Andy gasped for the air the second her face burst out of the water. Her chest heaved as she coughed horribly. Her hands frantically clawed at the side of the newly made cliff, trying to find anything to grab to steady herself and keep her head above water. When she found a good enough hold she rested her forehead against her left shoulder, trying to catch her breath.
While Nicholas was, indeed, the son of Poseidon, he didnât particularly enjoy being submerged. He could breathe, but he had crashed into the water so harshly, that it felt like he couldnât for a moment or two. To say he was a tad disoriented, to say the least.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness just as she heard a ripple in the water. Thatâs when the realization of her predicament set in⊠She was trapped in a ravine with the son of Poseidon. Andy had no idea how big the cavern was nor how deep, but she had to act fast. Faster than Nick. She quickly spun around in the direction of the shifting water and threw out both of her arms. Her fingers curled as her powers reached out and grabbed him. Then in a swift move, she threw her hands up and sent Nick flying up and out of the chasm.
Before he could get his bearings, he was⊠being shot up and out of the chasm!? He didnât even know what hit him - literally. This witchy stuff - he didnât like it one bit. All of his limbs flailed wildly, and strings of expletives bounced off the walls of the chasm; hear to none but Andromeda, and thankfully so. He didnât want to be labeled the camp potty mouth just yet.
The chasm spat him out like a bad meal or something. When Nicholas finally landed - well, you know what they say about big guys falling hard. He slammed against the arena floor; face first, and nearly fell down yet another split in the stone. Most of his body was about to be devoured, again, but he managed to pull himself to safety. He stayed there, like he had fallen asleep. He was tired⊠legitimately exhausted. If he wasnât the son of Poseidon, he probably would have been broken to pieces in the fall. It didnât mean he wasnât in pain, though. Still - he had to move somehow.
Although Nick was out, nothing was stopping him from jumping back in or doing whatever water magic he had up his sleeve. Andy needed to get out and get out fast, but every hold her hands found was too slippery for her to pull herself up and climb. There were no convenient rocks or floating debris for her to make another staircase and she wasnât powerful enough to bend the earth or water to her will. Andy had never used her abilities to levitate herself, but at the moment she didnât seem to have any other choice.
It took an immense amount of focus, but slowly and shakily, Andy began to rise up from the water toward the surface. Occasionally sheâd lose her hold and fall a few feet or bump into the side of the chasm. But eventually, she slowly emerged from the dark fissure. Her focus was wavering until she couldnât hold on anymore and fell to the ground, landing on her hands and knees.
Andy stumbled to her feet and quickly closed the distance between herself and the son of Poseidon. Nick, still on all fours, scrambled towards his gladius trying to reach it before she got to him. But she was faster. She kicked his weapon out of reach before he could grab it, then waved her fingers in the air, using her powers to knock him over onto his back. Before he could try to get up, Andy straddled his upper torso, pinning his left bicep under her knee and his right wrist under her foot. Then, with the last bit of energy and power she had left, she conjured a dagger into her right hand and held the blade to his neck. Then everything was still. She didnât move or give him an inch as she struggled to catch her breath.
He held up both of his hands in surrender, "Ah, deadly, beautiful - I would say I like my girls feisty, but I think I will take a pass on this one,". The laugh that passed through his lips was one-half nervous and another half an attempt to make a joke out of a defeat. It was fair. Just because he was the son of Poseidon didnât mean that others couldnât prevail over him. Heâs a pretty humble guy - on the outside, but he did feel the pang of bitterness as his pride was severely injured. He could hide that emotion, though.
With the fight won, Andy tossed the dagger aside. She didnât have the energy to partake in Nickâs flirty banter. She slowly moved off of him but didnât have enough strength to get to her feet, instead rolling over onto her back. The next fight could wait a minute as she caught her breath.
Nicholas also needed a few moments, and when he finally decided to get off of his feet, he stood himself up. He offered a hand to Andy, but he was respectful about it. With his signature stupid grin, "I almost had you. Congratulations on your win." With that said, he turned away from her to allow the next fight to commence. There was nothing left to say, and his ego was a tad bruised.
Andy propped herself up on her elbows, coughing up whatever water remained in her lungs. Once the fit stopped she saw the offered hand and took it, allowing him to help her up. "You did," she agreed with a weak laugh. As she turned to walk away she snapped her fingers and a towel appeared on both her shoulder and Nickâs. She didnât say anything or look back at him. It was like a silent sorry for kicking your ass gesture. She hesitated at the entrance to the arena and wrung out her hair and clothes best she could before returning to her seat beside Trinity with an exhausted groan.
He dragged himself out of the arena and toward Blair. There was a lot of space for him to stretch out, so he laid on his side and put his head in her lap. He looked like a baby, to be honest. A big beefy manbaby that just got his ass kicked and now he needs some consoling from a woman heâs only known a whole⊠four hours. He pulled the towel over his head and just laid there, his arms crossed over his chest in grumpy defeat. Between Blair, Andromeda, Evelyn, and Veronica - heâs kind of had a full day.
Blair watched the spar⊠Kind of. Fighting and swords werenât really her thing. There might have been a fleeting moment where she felt a small amount of concern when Nick disappeared beneath the ground with the brunette. But after all, it was his doing they both fell in the first place so he had to have some sort of plan. She was honestly a bit surprised that he lost the fight, but Blair just chalked it up to fatigue from their afternoon activities.
Her brows raised curiously when Nick didnât return to his seat but made his way right toward her. They werenât a couple after one not-so-quick hook up in a cramped office were they? In any other circumstance, Blair might have made a sarcastic quip saying as much, but he came toward her like a dejected puppy and she actually felt sorry for him. She grimaced a little at the fact he was drenched and she wasnât particularly in the mood to be wet herself, but at least he kept his head wrapped in the towel so she wasnât entirely soaked. After a moment or two, she settled and even offered him a lick of her lollipop. Candy made everything better. He just stayed under the towel. At least Blair's lap was comfortable.
The arenaâs magical properties morphed it back into repair, and it was - once again - typical. It awaited the next pair.
He sighed and looked down at her, attempting to be as reassuring as he could be without hurting the poor girlâs feelings, "If you never face your fears, you will never get past them. The only way to get past whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, is to go right through them. Whatâs done is done. Letâs not forget that." He looked around, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, and gently turned her to face her peers, "You may be surprised that youâre not the only one with demons. We canât control the past, but we can control what we learn from it." Heâd leave her to reflect on that. While he hadnât told her that sheâd be going through the training directly, he knew that she was smart enough to read in between the lines.
Like one might a quarter, he tossed the blue token into the air and snatched it up. He did this a couple of times. A womanâs tears didnât really sting him as much, but that didnât mean he wanted to be the source of it. Whatâs with Camp Athensâ females? Gods, he prayed quietly for a male opponent while also hoping it wouldnât start pouring rain. His pea-brained head didnât connect the dots that the weather change might have been part of Ilianaâs lack of control, but he did wonder why it went from sunny to potentially showering.
"Nothingâs going right. The only other thing that could go wrong is I might have to beat up some dudeâs girlfriend," he laughed at himself as he thought of all the potential female scenarios he would be aligned with. Only because he felt that his magnetic pull for the opposite sex hadnât quite weakened yet. He rubbed the back of his neck as he tossed the token on the ground and let it roll away⊠someplace.
Andy stepped into the arena just in time to step on the blue token before it rolled away. She leaned down to pick it up before walking over toward Nick. "I hope you didnât overexert yourself," she commented with a knowing smirk as she dropped both of the blue tokens into his hand. "Iâd hate to embarrass you on your first day of camp," she concluded with a playful grin.
Taking that as a prime example of being flirted with, he accepted the tokens in the same playful manner, only he had the deep rumble of some serious salacious tones, "Are you sure youâre not asking to see if I am available later? Iâm not that tired at all." Since he has uber chest muscles, he did that thing where his pecs bounced around at his command and winked before turning away to distance himself. "I will be available later, by the way, and I donât get embarrassed very easily! Obviously." he called out to her, lifting a hand in a backhanded wave. "Good luck, Princesa." He had to add some additional teasing in there alongside the drawl of his native accent.
Andy just stood there for a moment in shock at the son of Poseidonâs brazen attempts at flirting. She supposed there was a first for everything. "Itâs Andy," She corrected as she rolled her eyes and spun around on her heels. As she made her way to the opposite side of the arena, she took a hair tie from around her wrist and tied her hair back in a ponytail.
Unlike some of the other demigods who might have water, fire, or who knows what at their disposal inside the arena, for her it was quite basic. There were a couple of weapons racks and a table that displayed just about any sort of weapon she could want. Anything and everything was available, but rather than going for the largest and most intimidating blades, she settled for a small, rather basic, looking set of throwing knives. Andy leaned down to faster the holster around her right thigh before turning to face Nick.
He wouldnât dare say it out loud, but she looked like he was going to get his ass handed to him. Itâs always the women that are the most vicious! He wasnât even going to dare ask her parentage.
With one hand in a pocket, he flicked the tokens into the air - together they disappeared, signaling the beginning of the match. While there were no barriers visible to the naked eye, there was a bubble of magic protecting the spectators from whatever their peers would dish out. Nothing could break through it - not influence, fire - nothing.
Much like Andromeda, the son of Poseidon was a basic Demigod. All he needed was what he is already surrounded by; slabs of stone, earth, and himself. The whole water thing was more or less Livâs ordeal, not his. He could do without it. The only source of water glimmered at his feet when he stopped and turned around to face his opponent. He bent low, reached down, and dove his right arm into the seemingly shallow pool. He dragged his arm out, a black and gold hilt with the mighty trident embedded into it, was slowly being tugged out. Eventually, the whole gladius was produced.
"Nice party trick," she humored.
He tossed her a goofy grin, "Anytime."
If Andromeda thought sheâd be dealing with the typical Poseidon kid; envisioning drowning or something of that sort, she was about to be dead wrong. With a smirk, he gestured her to go ahead with the sweep of a hand, "Ready when you are."
Andy was never really one to throw the first punch. So it was a first for her having to initiate the fight. She could charge him, but Nick was larger and stronger than her. It would be in her best interest to keep as much distance between them for as long as possible. Whether or no her opponent was expecting a quick fight or not, that she didnât know. She might not look like a threat, but unlike him, she wasnât trying to impress anyone either.
She looked around for inspiration to strike when her gaze settled on the weapon racks around her. Andy held out her right hand, tensing it like she was gripping something no one could see. Her fingers curled like claws as her muscles visibly tensed. For a moment it might have looked odd, but when her hand jerked a few inches upwards, every weapon behind her lifted up into the air. She turned her attention towards Nick, holding his gaze for a moment or two before she threw her hand forward. With the motion, every dagger, spear, sword, and any other weapon flew through the air like missiles locked on the son of Poseidon.
The moment all of those extremely pointy items ended up pointed at him, he held his free hand up in defense, "Woah, woah! Was it the pec dance thing? I wonât do that anymore. Damn!" The women here really held grudges, didnât they? Of course, Nicholas was also having fun - both poking fun at himself and the situation.
Alas, every single one of those weapons flew right toward him! He turned away and started to run, and it was quite comical. However, in a second or two after that, he got really serious very quickly. As if he was going for a âjust kiddingâ moment, he turned on his heels and faced the incoming trajectories. He stomped one of his feet hard against the ground, and for a half-a-heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then some invisible force slammed into the weapons, though a spear managed to escape the shockwave and burrow into his left shoulder. "Ah, shhhhhhhiiii-," his would be expletively dragged into a pained groan, and it took another second for the ground to start trembling. It cracked and splintered every which way, causing schisms and sudden uneven ground. Some of the fissures were deep and wide, and others shallow - but the overall arena had become a craggy ground where one wrong step could send either tumbling into the depths.
He broke the spear off at the shaft, leaving the rest in there so he didnât bleed out all over the place. He was dumb as a box of rocks, but he was extremely practical.
The shockwave rolled across the arena, slamming into Andy. The force sent her tumbling backward. She only came to a stop when she collided with the stone wall that surrounded the coliseum. The ground trembled beneath her. It was almost like trying to stand on top of rushing water. Sheâd get halfway to her feet only for a fissure to slice the ground underfoot and knock her off balance. The crack only seemed to grow as she struggled to stand. But before she could gain her balance, the earth opened and swallowed her.
Andy barely managed to grab a hold of the edge before disappearing into the depths below. For a moment or two, she struggled to try and pull herself up, but her upper body strength was abysmal and all she was doing was wearing herself out faster. Her gaze darted around, looking for a solution when she saw a large rock break off from the ground and fall into the chasm. In a test of faith, in herself, Andy released her hold. And while she instantly disappeared from view, she quickly held out her hands toward the rock, willing it to shift course and stop beneath her, catching her fall.
After landing, her hand flicked sending another rock flying through the air, stopping it a little higher than the first like a step. Andy kept repeating this action, bringing more debris towards her, making a makeshift staircase. But instead of stopping once she reached the top, she kept going, raising herself several feet about Nick and the arena. Now with the high ground, Andy grabbed a throwing knife and threw it at her opponent. Rocks froze, hovering in the air like stepping stones as she lept from one to another, circling him like a vulture as she hurled knife after knife.
It would seem that Andy found the weak spot in his ability very quickly, but Nicholas wasnât mad at her for it. In fact, he looked pretty happy! He wasnât trying to impress anyone with his powers. Heâd rather impress the girls with dancing pecs, but thatâs another story. Maybe if he got his ass handed to him, heâd be able to shed off the whole babysitter son of Poseidon image. So while being beaten might anger someone else, he was lowkey grateful for a challenge.
By this time, there wasnât a lot of ground to move around on safely. Nick couldnât manipulate the rocks, but he could do other things. Just as he thought about one thing, Andromeda had other ideas - namely, more pointy objects to hurl at him. The big guy really wasnât all that fast given his size, so two to three daggers made their mark; one sinking into an arm, another into a leg, and the last one grazed his side. The rest he could manage to swat aside with the gladius, or even duck and dance away from in a rather uncoordinated manner.
Once he was just really tired of dodging and swatting at incoming blades, he decided to move out of his defensive position. He crouched down low then propelled himself up into the air. Heâd land on one of the levitating stones, using them in the same way she had. The force of each landing caused the floating staircase to crumble one by one, and when he eventually lept toward the last one - the one that had Andromeda - he barrelled into her with full force. Nicholas knocked them both off of the rock and, together, they plunged into a dark fissure with uncertain depth.
At first, Andy wasnât concerned when Nick began to climb the rocks. She just kept adding to the floating staircase and climbed higher. But before she knew it, the abundance of rocks below began to dwindle and every makeshift step crumbled beneath him as he made his way toward her. She levitated the last rock and as it raised to her, she looked back over her shoulder just as Nick charged into her. Andy gasped as the wind was knocked out of her and the collision sent them both tumbling off the rocks, into the chasm, disappearing out of sight of the other demigods.
They fell so quickly she hadnât a clue which way was up or down. The darkness quickly devoured them, only the small slice in the earth above lending any light or sense of direction. At first, Andy clung to Nick, as anyone would when they thought they were falling to their death. But somewhere during the plummet logic took over reminding her that this was only training and she couldnât die⊠At least she hoped. She couldnât see him in the darkness but she could feel his hold on her. In a last-ditch attempt to get the upper hand, Andy wrestled against his grasp, managing to put her foot against his chest. With all the strength she could muster she kicked off him and sent them both spiraling in opposite directions until they crashed into a pull of water.
The tension of the water stunned Andy as she hit the surface then quickly began to swallow her. Then there was panic. Water filled her lungs where air should be as she frantically kicked, praying she was heading for the surface, not the depths below. She was no daughter of Poseidon. She couldnât breathe underwater. And whatever logic she had left at that moment only replaced with a fear of drowning and a rush of adrenalin as her fight or flight kicked in. As she desperately searched for the surface her hand found the rocky side of the ravine. It was just enough to help her find the light of the sky above and led her up to the surface.
Andy gasped for the air the second her face burst out of the water. Her chest heaved as she coughed horribly. Her hands frantically clawed at the side of the newly made cliff, trying to find anything to grab to steady herself and keep her head above water. When she found a good enough hold she rested her forehead against her left shoulder, trying to catch her breath.
While Nicholas was, indeed, the son of Poseidon, he didnât particularly enjoy being submerged. He could breathe, but he had crashed into the water so harshly, that it felt like he couldnât for a moment or two. To say he was a tad disoriented, to say the least.
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness just as she heard a ripple in the water. Thatâs when the realization of her predicament set in⊠She was trapped in a ravine with the son of Poseidon. Andy had no idea how big the cavern was nor how deep, but she had to act fast. Faster than Nick. She quickly spun around in the direction of the shifting water and threw out both of her arms. Her fingers curled as her powers reached out and grabbed him. Then in a swift move, she threw her hands up and sent Nick flying up and out of the chasm.
Before he could get his bearings, he was⊠being shot up and out of the chasm!? He didnât even know what hit him - literally. This witchy stuff - he didnât like it one bit. All of his limbs flailed wildly, and strings of expletives bounced off the walls of the chasm; hear to none but Andromeda, and thankfully so. He didnât want to be labeled the camp potty mouth just yet.
The chasm spat him out like a bad meal or something. When Nicholas finally landed - well, you know what they say about big guys falling hard. He slammed against the arena floor; face first, and nearly fell down yet another split in the stone. Most of his body was about to be devoured, again, but he managed to pull himself to safety. He stayed there, like he had fallen asleep. He was tired⊠legitimately exhausted. If he wasnât the son of Poseidon, he probably would have been broken to pieces in the fall. It didnât mean he wasnât in pain, though. Still - he had to move somehow.
Although Nick was out, nothing was stopping him from jumping back in or doing whatever water magic he had up his sleeve. Andy needed to get out and get out fast, but every hold her hands found was too slippery for her to pull herself up and climb. There were no convenient rocks or floating debris for her to make another staircase and she wasnât powerful enough to bend the earth or water to her will. Andy had never used her abilities to levitate herself, but at the moment she didnât seem to have any other choice.
It took an immense amount of focus, but slowly and shakily, Andy began to rise up from the water toward the surface. Occasionally sheâd lose her hold and fall a few feet or bump into the side of the chasm. But eventually, she slowly emerged from the dark fissure. Her focus was wavering until she couldnât hold on anymore and fell to the ground, landing on her hands and knees.
Andy stumbled to her feet and quickly closed the distance between herself and the son of Poseidon. Nick, still on all fours, scrambled towards his gladius trying to reach it before she got to him. But she was faster. She kicked his weapon out of reach before he could grab it, then waved her fingers in the air, using her powers to knock him over onto his back. Before he could try to get up, Andy straddled his upper torso, pinning his left bicep under her knee and his right wrist under her foot. Then, with the last bit of energy and power she had left, she conjured a dagger into her right hand and held the blade to his neck. Then everything was still. She didnât move or give him an inch as she struggled to catch her breath.
He held up both of his hands in surrender, "Ah, deadly, beautiful - I would say I like my girls feisty, but I think I will take a pass on this one,". The laugh that passed through his lips was one-half nervous and another half an attempt to make a joke out of a defeat. It was fair. Just because he was the son of Poseidon didnât mean that others couldnât prevail over him. Heâs a pretty humble guy - on the outside, but he did feel the pang of bitterness as his pride was severely injured. He could hide that emotion, though.
With the fight won, Andy tossed the dagger aside. She didnât have the energy to partake in Nickâs flirty banter. She slowly moved off of him but didnât have enough strength to get to her feet, instead rolling over onto her back. The next fight could wait a minute as she caught her breath.
Nicholas also needed a few moments, and when he finally decided to get off of his feet, he stood himself up. He offered a hand to Andy, but he was respectful about it. With his signature stupid grin, "I almost had you. Congratulations on your win." With that said, he turned away from her to allow the next fight to commence. There was nothing left to say, and his ego was a tad bruised.
Andy propped herself up on her elbows, coughing up whatever water remained in her lungs. Once the fit stopped she saw the offered hand and took it, allowing him to help her up. "You did," she agreed with a weak laugh. As she turned to walk away she snapped her fingers and a towel appeared on both her shoulder and Nickâs. She didnât say anything or look back at him. It was like a silent sorry for kicking your ass gesture. She hesitated at the entrance to the arena and wrung out her hair and clothes best she could before returning to her seat beside Trinity with an exhausted groan.
He dragged himself out of the arena and toward Blair. There was a lot of space for him to stretch out, so he laid on his side and put his head in her lap. He looked like a baby, to be honest. A big beefy manbaby that just got his ass kicked and now he needs some consoling from a woman heâs only known a whole⊠four hours. He pulled the towel over his head and just laid there, his arms crossed over his chest in grumpy defeat. Between Blair, Andromeda, Evelyn, and Veronica - heâs kind of had a full day.
Blair watched the spar⊠Kind of. Fighting and swords werenât really her thing. There might have been a fleeting moment where she felt a small amount of concern when Nick disappeared beneath the ground with the brunette. But after all, it was his doing they both fell in the first place so he had to have some sort of plan. She was honestly a bit surprised that he lost the fight, but Blair just chalked it up to fatigue from their afternoon activities.
Her brows raised curiously when Nick didnât return to his seat but made his way right toward her. They werenât a couple after one not-so-quick hook up in a cramped office were they? In any other circumstance, Blair might have made a sarcastic quip saying as much, but he came toward her like a dejected puppy and she actually felt sorry for him. She grimaced a little at the fact he was drenched and she wasnât particularly in the mood to be wet herself, but at least he kept his head wrapped in the towel so she wasnât entirely soaked. After a moment or two, she settled and even offered him a lick of her lollipop. Candy made everything better. He just stayed under the towel. At least Blair's lap was comfortable.
The arenaâs magical properties morphed it back into repair, and it was - once again - typical. It awaited the next pair.
xxxxxxHerax|x[url=-]outfit[/url]x|x#380011
Of all the voices to emerge from a sweet looking thing, Lochlan wasn't expecting one so scratchy and hoarse. The shock was visible but fleeting on his face. People couldn't really help what they sounded like after all and she looked to be having her own tough time, hearing herself, even dropping her valuable.
The more Lochlan watched and waited for the conversation to continue, the more he saw how emotional Iliana was getting over it. Something was seriously wrong here.
"I . . . can . . . talk . . . . how?" She said it so faintly, Lochlan was only lucky to be close and not be making sound over her. Evidently she was talking to herself about it but she seemed seriously distressed.
"It's - " Before he could assure her how totally normal it was to actually talk and be verbal, an announcement rang out causing him to inhale deeply. This girl was far more interesting than some mandatory inconvenient exercise and speech. The announcement also caused Iliana to break contact with him. But as the PA system continued, his bothered attitude blended with intrigue. Juicy, but the timing was still inconvenient.
"I want you to work for your meal. And I'm not fast food." Then a sudden punch to his gut making him nauseous. He cringed and rubbed his face although that wouldn't really erase what he heard. Er Blair, over the PA system, really.
After the conclusion of that monstrosity, Iliana snapped her head back in his direction looking frightened and anxious as ever. "The . . . hall . . . . . is that . . . way," she pointed in the direction vaguely. Then took off running.
Lochlan watched her go. "Skittish," he muttered. He never intended to scare the girl. But he was intrigued in what he was missing about her which seemed a whole lot.
Camp got better as he wandered about in the vague direction of the hall. There were lookers. The camp seemed large and a little more classy than the low-end shacks and battling nature he first envisioned. Instead, there were stables, an apparent designated training arena, a hall full of varieties of foods. He nodded a little in approval. It could be better if there was service for him. Someone had to set out the food after all so he swivelled around into the kitchens to see what this place could offer him. Instead of maids or people in neutral colors with hair nets, he saw a red-head washing the dishes and she looked to be working alone at that.
"I should have brought a shoe," he commented, setting his eyes on the ground with a small smile and slowly shuffled up to the benchtop where she was stationed to lean against it.
Lochlan was sure to look at the behind the scenes of the hall and kitchen work before looking at her again. She'd have a mountain of dishes to do, accumulating the ones left outside and everyone who hasn't eaten yet. He felt for the gorgeous Cinderella, so much so he had a fleeting thought to help. But he had never done dishes in his life and he wasn't going to start now. "You can take off and I can cover for you. Say there was some emergency or you weren't feeling well."
At least he had offered to save a damsel from her chores. First impressions were certainly impactful and meaningful. Not quite everything, but close. He supposed with a training session coming up and seeing everyone in one vicinity, he should get to know the place or at least one person. "I'm Lochlan." He held out a hand keeping his smile warm and friendly for now. Depending how things went in the kitchen, it'd determine whether he'd explore alone or with a tour guide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
They were advised to get changed so that's what Lochlan did. He returned to his cabin and changed into active wear and followed where the people drifted. There was some essential low trodden walk to it and he wasn't let down when they led him directly to the arena. Lochlan felt like there should have been some trumpets or drums or something to add to the atmosphere. But it was still pretty cool. He had a moment's pause to decided where to sit and chose the half-familiar redhead. He flashed her a smile before sitting beside her.
Lochlan shifted a little trying to get comfortable on this kind of seating as he listened to what kind of shit storm camp had people spar just because. Was this some military/warrior in training camp thing? Lochlan filed up with the others to pick out a randomized token and returned to his seat. Pretty soon he was about to see what it was all about. He had probably never been as attentive and invested in his life.
This girl stepped up to face Nick. She wasn't scrawny but she wasn't much next to him, yet most treated it like another Monday. "Is this even legal?" he leaned close to his company but kept his eyes ahead. He had been through a scrap in his time but never against a girl.
He watched it like it was the best live action movie ever. Eyes widening in amazement, creeping to the edge of his seat. At the conclusion he was half tempted to applaud the show. But he could read a room. Or an arena anyway. Besides he had to arch an intrigued brow and smirk at Blair teasingly when her latest boytoy returned to her without hesitance to be coddled. She might have hooked a clingy one and that was always amusing.
xxxxxxHadesx|xoutfitx|x#05105E
Like the others, Mason was less than impressed by what came over the speakers but...good for the strangers he supposed. He had a quick theory that there might have been some aphrodisiac in the water. With him getting lucky and now two strangers he had never heard before and, he wished, his first time hearing them wasn't in this way. But what an impression. Ajax number 2 calling the shots, yet getting his own little treatment.
Mason must have been in another world of pre-dread and bitterness because the next thing he noticed was Andy standing over him, hand extended for his plate. "Hm? Oh yeah, thanks." Mason leant back for her to reach it and smiled briefly.
Andy walked away and Trinity suddenly awoke, revived and fierce as ever commanding his attention but in that...freakishly composed, murder in her eyes way. âListen here, that girl cares something fierce for you. So don't you hurt her or bullshit her. If Ajax comes back, you stand your ground and protect her. You don't act up or shut her out. You're worthy. She chose you, Mason.â
Mason sighed out, looking off and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know she cares and I care for her too! But if she..." He just thought she might be able to do better. It wouldn't be good enough for Trinity though and he knew how the friends threatening thing went down. "I'll take care of her."
Andy returned in a timely fashion again and Trinity turned on peach mode and excused herself. Mason wasn't amused in the least and couldn't pretend to be. His cold hard eyes watched her go before flickering to Andy. "I'm sure you have some things you'd like to do before training. So, don't let me hold you up. I have a book I was reading waiting back for me at my cabin anyway."
He opened then closed his mouth and just nodded. He wasn't sure what he was stepping into with Andy and a little time to himself might help him solve it or at least figure out what he wanted to be. Same went for her and her book.
* * *
Mason entered the arena sharp and on time as requested of him. But it all became just a bit too bitterly ironic. The PA announcement, standing in the centre giving half information on the Valises, saying what was required of them, trying to run the exercises and training, the stupid long brown curly-ish/wavy hair. Personally, he didn't see how sparring would help them. They all smacked each other around enough and it wasn't really against the routine to use powers against each other. Nor did he fully believe the news on the renowned Zeus duo.
But of course, the Olympian gods and their offsprings knew how to run things for the best. Mason rolled his eyes and picked out a yellow token and returned to his spot with his arms crossed. He just really could not give a shit and spaced out for a decent amount of time as everyone settled back into their seats. But the movement of someone he knew first entering the arena to fight snapped him out of it. Subtly though. His eyes only shifted to watch the exchange. "I hope you didnât overexert yourself. Iâd hate to embarrass you on your first day of camp."
"Are you sure youâre not asking to see if I am available later? Iâm not that tired at all." Nick proceeded to do some peacocky pec dance. Mason's eyes narrowed dangerously on the son of Poseidon. "I will be available later, by the way, and I donât get embarrassed very easily! Obviously. Good luck, Princesa." Was there a rule on trading tokens because he'd like to shut Nick's mouth up quickly. But he hoped...he just prayed, that Andy would do it for him instead.
All that he could do was watch. And while he wasn't much for supporting or cheerleading, he never wanted to jump to his feet more and shout for Andy to finish him. Mason watched the to'ing and fro'ing as still as a stone instead. His eyes occasionally flashed with concern as it looked like anyone's game for the longest time. But then...bliss at last. Andy pinned him and conjured a dagger to his throat. "Ah, deadly, beautiful - I would say I like my girls feisty, but I think I will take a pass on this one."
Good call, jerk. Still, Mason wasn't impressed by the blunt flirting cross compliments. Neither was Andy by the looks of it. Just thank god they got off each other and it ended. That was the biggest mercy of all and when he could finally feel some tension release from his chest..and clenched fists.
Mason sighed out and raised to his feet, holding up his token high so his opponent could see they were due at the centre of the arena.
xxxxxxx E V E L Y N xx M A S T E R S
xxxxxDaughter of Nemesis | Outift | #ffc300
As his heritage came out and a few extra comments on the side, Evelyn felt a brief wave of guilt and regret of her first impression of the son of Poseidon. Not that he particularly deserved to be treated differently but slightly kinder since he didnât look like he signed up for the role his father laid upon him. As 'babysitter'. At least he managed to have a sense of humour and slink back into casual conversation with ease. Evelyn was able to mirror that because of his accessibility, letting herself loosen up and indulge his behaviour.
âMaybe next time we can exchange names?â How did that escape them? It seemed backwards to have a glimpse at each otherâs character then introduce - or as he painted, exchange names. But that was definitely doable. A name was such a big part of identity.
âNext time,â she mused quietly, playfully and stubbornly. Potentially to herself as they were both off to tend to their own days anyway.
Hers was made of bashing dishes, then packing them away a bit more delicately. For somebody usually so self-aware, it irked her to bits that she couldnât shake the frustration and disappointment and reoccurring denial. She was smarter and better than this. Although, extra content to a certain announcement forced her to question her judgement yet again. Pity. She thought the son of Poseidon was above primal.
The dishes were an ever-growing pile to be collected and cleaned, but her mind was in other places causing her to carry out the duty absent-mindedly. âI should have brought a shoe.â
Evelyn was startled at first, turning wide-eyed at the sudden company, lips slightly apart then actually paid attention to the labour done and ahead. Though the line was cheesy, she decided to be pleasant and smiled, taking in a breath. âMaybe. Quite the work, but someone has to do it.â
There was a momentâs silence but it didnât feel awkward or off, especially as she kept her hands busy continuing her chore, sparing glances now and then at the handsome stranger. âYou can take off and I can cover for you. Say there was some emergency or you werenât feeling well.â
Her eyes darted to him. It was unwarranted and kind...Not overly so...it was how some people bonded she supposed, but something didnât sit entirely right. Why did it feel like another devil perched on the counter by her? âIâve already come so far. Itâd be a shame if somebody else swooped in to take the credit from me.â Evelyn smirked on cue.
âIâm Lochlan.â He held out a hand, warm smile in place.
Evelyn matched his expression placing her hand in his. âEvelyn.â She searched between his stunning blue eyes. While it could have come off as checking him out, and no harm was done there because he was handsome, she was mainly disappointed her powers couldnât imprint a word of what other demigods were thinking.
* * *
She had sat herself down in the arena not caring where she sat or who she was surrounded by. There was no strategy to it and there was no point getting comfortable with a training exercise due. However, a body appearing beside her did make her glance up to the company. Evelyn mirrored Lochlanâs smile again then listened attentively to Nicholas who spoke centre stage. Her hands entwined, squeezing themselves gently. A spar exercise, chosen by chance. She briefly wondered how much Nicholas controlled or if he was just the voicebox of the gods exercise.
Like everyone, she drifted forward to collect a token. Only once everyone settled did she glance down to acknowledge its color. She sighed out to herself clutching her token in her hand then looked forward for the first battle. âIs this even legal?â
How new was this guy? Before she could snigger to him what world he came from, she realized his logic/belief was more of the norm. One that typically would have aligned with hers. Evelyn nodded grimly. âIâm afraid so.â She didnât bother to expand or justify that it was âokayâ because they all had power and some women, or even, smaller demigods could handle themselves. Because all in all, especially with tensions high, sparring, even in a controlled environment, wasnât what they needed.
She watched Andy and Nick's demonstration. The two were fine combatants and solid executors of their powers. She had to wonder how much they held back and how much they gave. Her hands fell together again and index fingers came up to her lips watching and waiting in anxiety for her turn. Andy came out the victor. They'd be a tough act to follow as far as a spectacle and a good spar went.
Then Mason marched forward next, yellow token held high to signal he was undoubtedly ready. Evelynâs breath hitched a little glancing down to her duplicate. She didnât know him beyond his name, that he was a son of Hades and that he had issues making way for so much hate in his bones. Where that became her problem was that it likely meant heâd be remorseless. And he looked extra tense today. Evelyn accepted her role as his opponent, shuffling to meet him in the arena. They'd have to forgive her lack of enthusiasm.
Still, it didn't mean she wouldn't try.
M A S O Nxx H U G H S O N xxxxxx &xxxxx E V E L Y Nxx M A S T E R S
Son of Hades & Daughter of Nemesis
#05105E / #FFC300
His opponent was one of those ones that looked like they wouldnât hurt an insect. Evelyn or something like that. He always found these kinds of public and essential training exercises unfair to the more gentle of heart and lacking muscle mass. But it didnât matter, the sooner they wrapped this up the better. And he wasnât the asshole that made them spar.
The arena went black, obscuring the sky above them mimicking the darkest night, meanwhile some foreign airborne glows were littered along the arena. A twisted compensation of what both demigods wanted, mainly countering Mason's utter advantage. He wanted darkness and seclusion. Evelyn wanted sabotage: light, familiarity and the chance of aid/witnesses.
Mason started off using geokinesis. At least that's what he was aiming for when he put his hand on the ground. Nothing happened. "Come on," he growled. He had practised it in the Underworld and hadn't got to since returning to camp but he owed this place nothing. He'd happily bring the whole thing down. Finally a tremor came from within the ground. Mason clenched his fist and hit down once evoking the earth to shudder violently until it started cracking open heading for Evelyn.
Running was the instinctual option. As she took off, she quickly realized it was a chase with no guarantee of end in sight. She had to stop it. She had to get in range of Mason. All the while she could feel her heels sinking as the earth gave way. Evelyn sprang away for one last leap of safety that she fell short of. One leg collapsed heavily on the ground while the other dangled into nothingness. She winced and pulled herself out of the hole.
It came to an abrupt halt being far more draining than he remembered. That, plus he was under instructions not to be lethal or leave people limbless or whatever else. Besides, he had nothing personal against the girl. She did nothing to warrant having her bones crushed under rubble and debris. He just wanted it to be done with. Mason checked on his sore victim. "Time for you to tap out." She made no sign of surrender or forfeiting. Mason nudged her with his boot. The hole remained close and she could easily face death in real circumstances if Mason kicked her. Instead, Mason sighed out and squatted down pulling a knife from his belt.
She still made no sign of acknowledging her predicament, face masked by her hair, panting and gripping her leg on the ground.
Mason tugged on her hair to have clear exposure to her throat. "Don't want you to end up in Eris's pile again do we?" he whispered for only her to hear.
Evelyn gasped as her hair was pulled. What he said struck a cocktail of fear and spite in her. Her hands went for the blade, cursing it to scorch its wielder. Mason dropped the blade with an expletive. Evelyn quickly propped up to lay both hands on him, robbing his senses from him, though demigods were a more resilient species, it would have taken more of a gradual decline but as long as her powers were implanted.
Everything became unfocused, his vision blurry, hearing faded, even his hands and feet felt lighter..detached almost. This time Mason was the one stunned, blinking several times and falling back in this foreign world. He shook his head and hit Evelyn's arms away then threw a hand out in her direction.
Mason didn't physically hit her but a dark force sent her hurling back, breaking the extent of her spell. It took both contestants a moment to regain their composure. Evelyn climbed to her feet slowly, coughing, smart enough to have her eyes set on the opponent at least, while Mason adjusted to his dithered senses climbing to his feet too. For a moment the two seemed to only stare at each other on opposite ends then Mason slunk into shadow, disappearing.
She could only watch darkness envelop him before he disappeared entirely. There was nothing she hated more than losing sight of the opponent and she flexed her fingers, sharpening her own senses and looking around her waiting for the next angle of attack.
He appeared behind her, and before Evelyn could take a swing - and try she did - whether to strike him or hinder him in any way her powers would allow, even she was unsure, Mason clasped her wrist tightly. The way the tiny spectacles of light
Next, Mason got a bit experimentative touching her in the way he would humans for the death touch. "Why don't you make it easier and surrender. Dont struggle."
Evelyn gasped again as a cruel and cold feeling crept through her body. She began to turn pale and her limbs began to turn weak as energy left her body. âIt's instincts.â She reached for him by any means she could and clawed into him and induced him with pain. Everything would ache and burn, invading him.
Mason yelled out dropping to his knees and forearms as he was flooded over with pain. It felt like his own body was attacking him from the inside. He grunted and growled.
Likewise, Evelyn followed to the ground as Mason's death grip was her only support. She collapsed to her knees limply panting as if she couldn't get enough oxygen. She kept a fist clenched for as long as she could to keep Mason writhing in pain, while Mason stared with a deathly promise in his eyes as his nose flared. She was only spared his gaze when he yelled out again. Then her hand fell open and she slumped forward. At a state of utter helplessness.
Determined beyond belief, once that pain lifted even the slightest, Mason was about to go for the final lunge. But in that same split second, the arena returned to its original state. It must have read Evelyn was already at mercy. He took a second sitting there catching his breath as finally all the pain subsided. He looked to the red head then away shaking his head to himself. She was supposed to be easy. He'd probably not underestimate her again.
Mason got to his feet and reluctantly approached and held out a hand for her.
She took his hand and leverage to rise, simply nodding her weary head to him. Indeed, the effects were passing but that plus the adrenaline of being in such a highly stressful situation had her feeling disorientated for a moment. It was all so fast and bizarre.
Mason returned to his seat on his lonesome, while Evelyn headed in her own direction without a word. Her more extroverted company would have to let her wrap her head around the spar and what she could take away from Mason. He was an aggressive fighter, had his own pent up emotions and difficulties and she feared for herself during the battle, but it seemed he had restraint. And was oddly decent enough to help her to her feet. Where did he seat in allegiance?
xxx Hecate | #8b9068 | Outfit
Daniel risked a glance around, finding Cherise and Rae behind him. He was initially checking their reactions to the new fresh meat of camp. Drooling was 100% expected, but he hoped the lady he was carrying the torch for made an effort to hide it at least. Instead, he found Cherise leaning over curiously to get a peek at his token. He beamed, tilting his head back amused and wondering when their eyes would meet. He opened up his palm to reveal his white token then reached back touching her arm. "Yours? He tugged her arm playfully just giving her a balance check then chuckled. "Hold on, I'm coming up," he whispered. And sure as anything, Daniel straddled the row of seats awkwardly then swung the other leg over the park beside Cherise. Daniel did have a thought to pull her down with him but Rae probably wouldn't appreciate that. Sisterhood and all.
He cleared his throat, shuffling a little closer and rested his arm around the back of Cherise's seating. Only then did the uncomfortableness of another male subside for investment in the fight. And boy, did Andy make him that Nick work. It was anyone's duel, but he was proud and relieved when Andy ended up on top. What's more is the guy he was intimidated by, thinking Nick such a panty dropper, sulked all the way over to another girl. That came as double relief.
Mason got up the second, maybe even before, the other fighters settled holding his token for all to see. When he was abrupt like that it generally wasn't good news. His opponent rose and met him in the arena. Daniel rubbed his forehead. This was turning into stress central for him. The red head wasn't violent and probably couldn't handle the wrath of a Hades son. She just wasn't one you saw in a fight, and he worried enough for Andy. He looked at Andy seeing if she could pick up on his pissiness too then his eyes went right back to the arena.
Hopefully, it was over quickly, mercifully and non-brutally. And once that imaginary bell went off, Mason was on the attack. He kinda played sick child torturing his pet for a while. As somebody pro Mason, he made it hard to stand in his corner and defend him sometimes so Daniel grew anxious just praying for Mason to stop and end it. But then she struck back. What developed was an aggressor and a defender with a serious backbone. And the result: Both friends collapsed. While Mason seemed to be in physical pain, Evelyn was growing paler and had more laboured breath and looked weaker by the second.
What the actual hell was going on? His eyes darted between the two, anxiety creeping up in his chest convinced neither would surrender and both would blackout. Then mercy, as Mason rose the arena transformed back to its original state.
Daniel blew out his lips like he was suffocating in there with them. "Jesus," he muttered. "Don't you go down there so soon."
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He didn't bother changing. He didn't bother getting into a shower. He didn't bother eating or making any attempt at being a respectable human being, rather demigod, at all. He didn't care. After the rather poor attempt at napping, he listened to the announcement of the training to come, and the extra pornographic feature - and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.
The gods were setting him up, weren't they? He brushed a large hand across the thick stubble that darkened his jawline and sighed. He'd have to avoid falling into the trap. Another trip to Tartarus would ruin him - as if one already hadn't.
He was one of the last of the campers to leave and for perfectly good reason. He didn't want to train at all. He didn't feel like beating someone to a bloody pulp, as he most likely would because that's just the sort of uncontrollable and feral creature he always has been. It was too tempting not not be that way. The first taste of rage from his opponent - the smell of blood lacing the air - there was no better way to make a child of Ares get excited. He had this extra drive, much like that of his father, to win no matter what the cost was at the end. Victory. The God of War and his children were not really all that different. Were they? He didn't know Trinity very well, but Liam knew himself.
He spent a few moments, and lurked further behind, and watched the commencement of the training from Poseidon's son. Now, that one would give him a run for his money, but Liam would place his bet that he'd get stuck with someone with noodles for arms that everyone would feel sorry for. Big bad Liam beat someone again. The son of War could never change, could he?
His dark gaze slid toward Sloane as she took her own seat, and the knot that settled in his stomach was heavy. He didn't even know why he was mad at her, or if he was at all. Liam was most likely bitter with himself, and it just so happened that Sloane got caught between two sides of the same coin - an unmistakable Ares child and a guy that had no idea what he was supposed to be doing with this new... experience.
While he would keep Sloane, and by proxy - Sylas - in view at all times, he chose to sit next to Evelyn. He didn't know why, but she had an aura. A captivating one. It was cold, like his own - yet not. Somehow. Sloane was the only woman that caught his eye and attention, but one could not just gravitates to a redhead. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Of course, her fiery mane was not all. He felt naturally cautious (as he is learning women are too complicated for his wee-man brain), but also curious. Quietly curious. He didn't want to give Sloane yet another reason to mistrust him, and whilst he might a pig be, he's really trying his best to give up womanizing!
He had grabbed his token before that. Whatever color it was - he didn't pay that much attention.
When he sat down he crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking like the most brooding and menacing homeless man one would ever see in their lifetime.
He watched the fights with an analytical mind, but his thoughts also ventured toward his own. What was he going to do? He finally opened up his fist to take a look at his token. It was red. It didn't even register that, Lochlan, the man sitting on the other side of Evelyn also had a red token.
As each battle came and went, even Evelyn's own, he felt his body temperature rising - excitement. The beast in him was already growling, clawing, begging. This was his life - his whole life, but perfectly legal compared to his past. The animalistic memories flashed through his mind of victory in bloodsport, near deaths, blood, the smell of sweat, and sore losers.
His left leg shook restlessly.
Reel it in, Liam. Reel it in, he reminded himself because Tartarus had not left him, either. The real question would be answered here today: Did the punishment of the gods prove to be successful or not? It could go either way. He didn't know himself. Not even in the slightest.
The gods were setting him up, weren't they? He brushed a large hand across the thick stubble that darkened his jawline and sighed. He'd have to avoid falling into the trap. Another trip to Tartarus would ruin him - as if one already hadn't.
He was one of the last of the campers to leave and for perfectly good reason. He didn't want to train at all. He didn't feel like beating someone to a bloody pulp, as he most likely would because that's just the sort of uncontrollable and feral creature he always has been. It was too tempting not not be that way. The first taste of rage from his opponent - the smell of blood lacing the air - there was no better way to make a child of Ares get excited. He had this extra drive, much like that of his father, to win no matter what the cost was at the end. Victory. The God of War and his children were not really all that different. Were they? He didn't know Trinity very well, but Liam knew himself.
He spent a few moments, and lurked further behind, and watched the commencement of the training from Poseidon's son. Now, that one would give him a run for his money, but Liam would place his bet that he'd get stuck with someone with noodles for arms that everyone would feel sorry for. Big bad Liam beat someone again. The son of War could never change, could he?
His dark gaze slid toward Sloane as she took her own seat, and the knot that settled in his stomach was heavy. He didn't even know why he was mad at her, or if he was at all. Liam was most likely bitter with himself, and it just so happened that Sloane got caught between two sides of the same coin - an unmistakable Ares child and a guy that had no idea what he was supposed to be doing with this new... experience.
While he would keep Sloane, and by proxy - Sylas - in view at all times, he chose to sit next to Evelyn. He didn't know why, but she had an aura. A captivating one. It was cold, like his own - yet not. Somehow. Sloane was the only woman that caught his eye and attention, but one could not just gravitates to a redhead. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Of course, her fiery mane was not all. He felt naturally cautious (as he is learning women are too complicated for his wee-man brain), but also curious. Quietly curious. He didn't want to give Sloane yet another reason to mistrust him, and whilst he might a pig be, he's really trying his best to give up womanizing!
He had grabbed his token before that. Whatever color it was - he didn't pay that much attention.
When he sat down he crossed his arms over his broad chest, looking like the most brooding and menacing homeless man one would ever see in their lifetime.
He watched the fights with an analytical mind, but his thoughts also ventured toward his own. What was he going to do? He finally opened up his fist to take a look at his token. It was red. It didn't even register that, Lochlan, the man sitting on the other side of Evelyn also had a red token.
As each battle came and went, even Evelyn's own, he felt his body temperature rising - excitement. The beast in him was already growling, clawing, begging. This was his life - his whole life, but perfectly legal compared to his past. The animalistic memories flashed through his mind of victory in bloodsport, near deaths, blood, the smell of sweat, and sore losers.
His left leg shook restlessly.
Reel it in, Liam. Reel it in, he reminded himself because Tartarus had not left him, either. The real question would be answered here today: Did the punishment of the gods prove to be successful or not? It could go either way. He didn't know himself. Not even in the slightest.
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When it seemed enough spars had passed, Sylas sighed and pushed off his knees. There were many things he'd rather be doing at the moment. Hiding away from the world in Liv's cabin somewhere in the mix of sex, sleep, eat and repeat sounded good to him. But Poseidon's lapdog had other plans. He wasn't one to sit around and wait for everyone else to go until he was called out one way or another. He was rested enough from his afternoon cardio, so it was as good of a time as any. Plus, the sooner he stepped up, then the sooner it was over.
As he made his way down to the arena, his gaze flitted back and forth at the other campers until he saw a small sparkle of gold. Nestled in Cherise's delicate hands was a golden token that matched his own. Rather than calling her out, Sylas slipped down her row. He stopped a few feet in front of her and held out his hand to her, revealing his own token. "Hello again, Cherise," He greeted her with a charming grin. "Shall we?" He tucked away his token, then offered her his hand. Just because they were about to fight didn't mean he couldn't be a gentleman.
Cherise glanced up at Sylas with big dark eyes; almost frozen in their surprised expression. Yet, if there had been any fear - and goodness, there had certainly been - the manâs charming face seemed to have melted some of it away. What could she say? It was his thing, and he was pretty good at playing the people around him. Still⊠he hadnât hurt her. He hadnât even said a mean word to her. Sure, he took the camp on a more than a troubling trip down âwhat could beâ lane, but he⊠wouldnât harm her intentionally. Would he?
She placed her hand gently in his to allow him to help her out of the seat. Not that she needed it. Something about him made her want to take it. She isnât sure what it was. Sometimes Cherise just⊠did things that made no sense. It was illogical to touch him after all that was witnessed. It was illogical not to feel fear around him, but she didnât. At least, it wasnât at the forefront of her mind. It was nestled somewhere in the back of it. No one ever said she was a great judge of character.
Cherise followed Sylas to the arena.
Once inside the arena, Sylas gently released her hand as he started towards his side of the battleground. "Best of luck." He flashed her one last smile before turning his back toward her. Unlike some of the other campers, he knew exactly what he wanted. His feet carried him straight toward the table with various sizes and styles of swords. And while others would go for a typical long sword or perhaps a gladius, Sylas opted for the lighter, but just as effective, rapier. While fencing seemed like one of the posh, rich kid sports, this was one of the few times his skill would come in handy.
Sylas spun around and gave Cherise a showy bow, as he did before any dual. Then he tucked his left hand behind his back while holding his blade at the ready in his right.
Cherise also knew exactly what she wanted in terms of weapons. There were really only a few choices, and the best one would showcase her expertise in marksmanship. She chose a compound crossbow; one of the heavier types of bows, but short enough for her to handle with ease. It was completed by a quiver that could be strapped at her right thigh.
She smiled one of her own charming dimpled smiles. Really? Who would want to hit her after that? Being too sweet was one of her personality traits, but it might not matter to a cold heart like Sylas. Still, she thought she would make her best attempt at being cordial and giving him the benefit of the doubt, despite all of the rumors and what everyoneâs seen thus far, "You, too, Sylas."
"Ladies first."
Others might scoff at the thought that someone felt so confident about themselves that theyâd allow their opponent to take the first blow. Already the setup was interesting; a mundane arena space, much like Nicholas and Andromedaâs fight - a rapier and a crossbow. A man with powers that could not be explained, perhaps one of the evilest men - and a kind-hearted healer that no one knows anything about. They probably thought she couldnât hurt a fly if she wanted to or tried.
That sweet smile disappeared, and without warning, a burst of light appeared to explode out of her body. Within seconds, it engulfed the entire arena - the radiance blinding to anyone with a pair of working eyes. It was just a brief spell of disorientation, as it soon sucked back into the center where Cherise once stood. Only, as soon as it disappeared, an arrow from the compound bow was headed right from Sylas. Cherise had quickly maneuvered her way to his left side and was already notching another projectile.
It was a safe assumption that Sylas had no idea what he was expecting when it came to facing down Cherise. She wasnât a little spitfire like Trinity, Alex, or even Andy. Those were the type of girls at camp that he expected a strong fight from. But he looked at Cherise like most looked at Wes, a pretty face but far too nice.
Sylas wasnât really on his guard and only gave her the first move out of chivalry, to give the girl at least a moment to shine before he made short work of her. The bright blast of light caused his stance to stagger as he raised his free hand to shield his eyes. Not a moment later an arrow came whizzing towards. Sylas managed to sidestep with just enough time so that the arrow only clipped his shirt and grazed his shoulder.
As he stumbled aside, Sylasâs left hand quickly fumbled around searching his pockets until he managed to find his sunglasses. It might not block everything, but it sure as hell was better than squinting through the spar until Cherise either blinded him or did more damage with another one of her arrows. Once they were on, Sylas didnât hesitate and began sprinting directly toward her. He wasnât a ranged fighter, nor did his powers work well from far away. He needed to be close⊠close enough to use his rapier or better yet, touch her.
Cherise was a spitfire when it came to fighting. While she was no Trinity, Alex, or Andy - she had her own style. Powers helped. As soon as she noticed that Sylas was coming toward her, she knew that the closure of distance would render her bow useless. She abandoned it by throwing it down, then decided to project bolts of light from her palms - like projectile spears. Maybe she could get him to stay away, as he was much, much taller than her and likely stronger once he would get ahold of her. She didnât know what his power entailed, but she did know that she likely couldnât overcome his physical power.
Sylas continued to charge toward his opponent. As he stepped over Cheriseâs discarded bow he intentionally made sure to snap the weapon beneath his foot. It slowed him down but only for a moment. He knew he needed to get his hands on her but every time that he might have gained some ground another light spear came hurtling through the air towards his feet. He cursed under his breath, bobbing and weaving in different directions trying to predict which route sheâd take next.
He quickly started to realize this game of cat and mouse was getting them nowhere. When he bobbed, she weaved. Back and forth they ran. There were a few times he got just close enough to her but a light spear sliced through the air separating them just before he could get ahold of her. Finally frustrated and at his witâs end, Sylas flicked his wrist, tossing his rapier upwards. As it fell through the air he grabbed the blade just about the hilt. Then, like a javelin, he threw the sword. It zipped through the air until it impaled itself in the ground in front of Cherise just before she could take another step.
The blade of the rapier sunk into the floor just shy of the toe of her shoes. She stopped immediately - taken aback for a moment.
Was it really that easy? Sylas closed the distance between them before Cherise had a moment to move. He seized one of her wrists in his grasp and pulled her closer. There were so many things he could make her do. She was his puppet now. Part of him, the part that had been caged since his arrival at camp, wanted to make a scene. Force the girl to her knees and have her raise a blade to her own neck. Assert his dominance⊠Finally. But he wasnât in this for a moment of fleeting personal gratification. He was playing the long game.
So, rather than something showy, he began pushing simple actions into her mind. Fall to your knees and surrender. Simple.
Cherise felt⊠confused, to say the least. Her brows furrowed slightly as he had her grasped and pulled closer. There was a slight tingling sensation that crawled along the nape of her neck, just as the snake slithered his way into her mind. Part of her - that awake part - screamed against the quiet attack, but to no avail. It was like an out-of-body experience, but not at the same time. It was hard to explain.
Everything felt like slow motion, and that loud voice inside of her was soon overcome by Sylasâ command. His voice drowned out her own mind, and she just dropped to her knees. "I surrender," fell from her lips, and those once bright and wide cheerful eyes took on a more listless and flat tone.
Sylas released his hold on her wrist and took a step back. He waited a moment for the arena to reset and for his powers over her to subside. Then he offered her his hand to help her to her feet. "Sorry it was so short." He knew the girl wouldnât want to hold his hand anymore than she had to, so he released her once she was on her feet. Then without another word, he made his way back to his seat. How much longer did he have to waste his time there?
When it seemed enough spars had passed, Sylas sighed and pushed off his knees. There were many things he'd rather be doing at the moment. Hiding away from the world in Liv's cabin somewhere in the mix of sex, sleep, eat and repeat sounded good to him. But Poseidon's lapdog had other plans. He wasn't one to sit around and wait for everyone else to go until he was called out one way or another. He was rested enough from his afternoon cardio, so it was as good of a time as any. Plus, the sooner he stepped up, then the sooner it was over.
As he made his way down to the arena, his gaze flitted back and forth at the other campers until he saw a small sparkle of gold. Nestled in Cherise's delicate hands was a golden token that matched his own. Rather than calling her out, Sylas slipped down her row. He stopped a few feet in front of her and held out his hand to her, revealing his own token. "Hello again, Cherise," He greeted her with a charming grin. "Shall we?" He tucked away his token, then offered her his hand. Just because they were about to fight didn't mean he couldn't be a gentleman.
Cherise glanced up at Sylas with big dark eyes; almost frozen in their surprised expression. Yet, if there had been any fear - and goodness, there had certainly been - the manâs charming face seemed to have melted some of it away. What could she say? It was his thing, and he was pretty good at playing the people around him. Still⊠he hadnât hurt her. He hadnât even said a mean word to her. Sure, he took the camp on a more than a troubling trip down âwhat could beâ lane, but he⊠wouldnât harm her intentionally. Would he?
She placed her hand gently in his to allow him to help her out of the seat. Not that she needed it. Something about him made her want to take it. She isnât sure what it was. Sometimes Cherise just⊠did things that made no sense. It was illogical to touch him after all that was witnessed. It was illogical not to feel fear around him, but she didnât. At least, it wasnât at the forefront of her mind. It was nestled somewhere in the back of it. No one ever said she was a great judge of character.
Cherise followed Sylas to the arena.
Once inside the arena, Sylas gently released her hand as he started towards his side of the battleground. "Best of luck." He flashed her one last smile before turning his back toward her. Unlike some of the other campers, he knew exactly what he wanted. His feet carried him straight toward the table with various sizes and styles of swords. And while others would go for a typical long sword or perhaps a gladius, Sylas opted for the lighter, but just as effective, rapier. While fencing seemed like one of the posh, rich kid sports, this was one of the few times his skill would come in handy.
Sylas spun around and gave Cherise a showy bow, as he did before any dual. Then he tucked his left hand behind his back while holding his blade at the ready in his right.
Cherise also knew exactly what she wanted in terms of weapons. There were really only a few choices, and the best one would showcase her expertise in marksmanship. She chose a compound crossbow; one of the heavier types of bows, but short enough for her to handle with ease. It was completed by a quiver that could be strapped at her right thigh.
She smiled one of her own charming dimpled smiles. Really? Who would want to hit her after that? Being too sweet was one of her personality traits, but it might not matter to a cold heart like Sylas. Still, she thought she would make her best attempt at being cordial and giving him the benefit of the doubt, despite all of the rumors and what everyoneâs seen thus far, "You, too, Sylas."
"Ladies first."
Others might scoff at the thought that someone felt so confident about themselves that theyâd allow their opponent to take the first blow. Already the setup was interesting; a mundane arena space, much like Nicholas and Andromedaâs fight - a rapier and a crossbow. A man with powers that could not be explained, perhaps one of the evilest men - and a kind-hearted healer that no one knows anything about. They probably thought she couldnât hurt a fly if she wanted to or tried.
That sweet smile disappeared, and without warning, a burst of light appeared to explode out of her body. Within seconds, it engulfed the entire arena - the radiance blinding to anyone with a pair of working eyes. It was just a brief spell of disorientation, as it soon sucked back into the center where Cherise once stood. Only, as soon as it disappeared, an arrow from the compound bow was headed right from Sylas. Cherise had quickly maneuvered her way to his left side and was already notching another projectile.
It was a safe assumption that Sylas had no idea what he was expecting when it came to facing down Cherise. She wasnât a little spitfire like Trinity, Alex, or even Andy. Those were the type of girls at camp that he expected a strong fight from. But he looked at Cherise like most looked at Wes, a pretty face but far too nice.
Sylas wasnât really on his guard and only gave her the first move out of chivalry, to give the girl at least a moment to shine before he made short work of her. The bright blast of light caused his stance to stagger as he raised his free hand to shield his eyes. Not a moment later an arrow came whizzing towards. Sylas managed to sidestep with just enough time so that the arrow only clipped his shirt and grazed his shoulder.
As he stumbled aside, Sylasâs left hand quickly fumbled around searching his pockets until he managed to find his sunglasses. It might not block everything, but it sure as hell was better than squinting through the spar until Cherise either blinded him or did more damage with another one of her arrows. Once they were on, Sylas didnât hesitate and began sprinting directly toward her. He wasnât a ranged fighter, nor did his powers work well from far away. He needed to be close⊠close enough to use his rapier or better yet, touch her.
Cherise was a spitfire when it came to fighting. While she was no Trinity, Alex, or Andy - she had her own style. Powers helped. As soon as she noticed that Sylas was coming toward her, she knew that the closure of distance would render her bow useless. She abandoned it by throwing it down, then decided to project bolts of light from her palms - like projectile spears. Maybe she could get him to stay away, as he was much, much taller than her and likely stronger once he would get ahold of her. She didnât know what his power entailed, but she did know that she likely couldnât overcome his physical power.
Sylas continued to charge toward his opponent. As he stepped over Cheriseâs discarded bow he intentionally made sure to snap the weapon beneath his foot. It slowed him down but only for a moment. He knew he needed to get his hands on her but every time that he might have gained some ground another light spear came hurtling through the air towards his feet. He cursed under his breath, bobbing and weaving in different directions trying to predict which route sheâd take next.
He quickly started to realize this game of cat and mouse was getting them nowhere. When he bobbed, she weaved. Back and forth they ran. There were a few times he got just close enough to her but a light spear sliced through the air separating them just before he could get ahold of her. Finally frustrated and at his witâs end, Sylas flicked his wrist, tossing his rapier upwards. As it fell through the air he grabbed the blade just about the hilt. Then, like a javelin, he threw the sword. It zipped through the air until it impaled itself in the ground in front of Cherise just before she could take another step.
The blade of the rapier sunk into the floor just shy of the toe of her shoes. She stopped immediately - taken aback for a moment.
Was it really that easy? Sylas closed the distance between them before Cherise had a moment to move. He seized one of her wrists in his grasp and pulled her closer. There were so many things he could make her do. She was his puppet now. Part of him, the part that had been caged since his arrival at camp, wanted to make a scene. Force the girl to her knees and have her raise a blade to her own neck. Assert his dominance⊠Finally. But he wasnât in this for a moment of fleeting personal gratification. He was playing the long game.
So, rather than something showy, he began pushing simple actions into her mind. Fall to your knees and surrender. Simple.
Cherise felt⊠confused, to say the least. Her brows furrowed slightly as he had her grasped and pulled closer. There was a slight tingling sensation that crawled along the nape of her neck, just as the snake slithered his way into her mind. Part of her - that awake part - screamed against the quiet attack, but to no avail. It was like an out-of-body experience, but not at the same time. It was hard to explain.
Everything felt like slow motion, and that loud voice inside of her was soon overcome by Sylasâ command. His voice drowned out her own mind, and she just dropped to her knees. "I surrender," fell from her lips, and those once bright and wide cheerful eyes took on a more listless and flat tone.
Sylas released his hold on her wrist and took a step back. He waited a moment for the arena to reset and for his powers over her to subside. Then he offered her his hand to help her to her feet. "Sorry it was so short." He knew the girl wouldnât want to hold his hand anymore than she had to, so he released her once she was on her feet. Then without another word, he made his way back to his seat. How much longer did he have to waste his time there?
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Camp was hardly what Fiona had expected, well, not entirely true. If the announcement over the tannoy was any indication it was exactly the cocktail mix of teenaged hormonal chaos she half wondered it would be. Even so, sheâd been on edge ever since abandoning the very nice gentleman a few hours earlier after heâd so chivalrously offered, nay begged to see her to her destination. Heâd find himself right enough once he slept it off, probably chalk it up to a few too many drinks but overall, a pleasant, if hazy memory of the last few days. At least, thatâs one of the lies sheâd sometimes tell herself if she felt the odd pang of guilt whenever she took advantage to further her own aims, however rarely the emotion surfaced.
Having been directed to an empty cabin upon arrival, and lacking the lurking ambush from the shadows sheâd been twitchily reacting to ever since sheâd left the beaten path to arrive here, she had finally begun to unwind. Her mother's talk of needing to prove herself and facing against her siblings had once again wormed its way inside, riling up every insecurity it could. As her meetings with her mother so often managed, and it was always somehow worse than the last. It made a lot of sense why so many of the myths seemed to revolve around children seeking to snuff out the lives of their parents, and not much had clearly changed given the feelings writhing in the pit of her stomach.
When the time came Fiona made her way to where the Arena was located, taking care to arrive not exactly late but taking her place moments before Nicholas made his introductions and explained what they were all doing there. She was only half listening, after all a duel was a duel so it would either go her way or it wouldnât, since her focus was more on roaming over the assembled demigods. She was trying to guess as to whom the owed their parentage, as well as estimating their social groups since while they were gathered close enough together there were definite cliques. Once sheâd taken the token from the bag she went back to lounging off to the side of the group, since she didnât want to tip her hand into siding with anyone yet, especially without knowing their loyalties and conflicts. It did seem like she wasnât perhaps the only outcast or new addition here for the couple of others who similarly hovered at the edges.
Wes, like most of the other demigods, was in no rush to go fight in the arena. Just the day before they all sat here watching their friends go through hell, then also faced their own worst nightmares. And while his night went better than most, that didn't change what he experienced. He had no desire to be there. And while some might find some relief in beating the shit out of each other to release some of their pent-up aggression from the trials, he wasn't. Plus, it was no secret that he was not one of the fighters at camp. He had enough public humiliation within the last 24 hours, he didn't need more.
Sooner or later, he had to step up and partake like everyone else. So, when there was a lull and no one seemed to be stepping forward, Wes stood up with a sigh. He flicked his bronze token in the air before catching it between his index and middle finger. "Bronze? Anyone?" he asked, waving the token as he descended into the arena.
Fiona looked away from the boy whoâd called out, glancing down to where her own token was still dancing along her fingers, the sunlight glinting off the metallic coloured surface. Dragging herself up from her ever worsening slouch on one of the benches she stood up, straightened her clothes and followed her opponent onto their field of battle. Her eyes taking careful stock of him from behind, initially in an attempt to appraise him for the fight ahead, before lingering appreciatively in places which seemed to push to the forefront of her thoughts.
Like other campers, Wes didn't control any elements, so the arena didn't really change at all for him. Just an offering of weapons that he was mediocre at using. He used a spear before against the Hydra, so he wondered toward that and took it up in his hands. It felt... weird holding a weapon. He was a lover, not a fighter.
As Fiona stepped into the arena, she felt the subtle changes beginning to take shape as it moulded to fit her strengths, with the air thickening slightly as it filled with a thin miasma while the shadows around them grew deeper and darker. There was the sound of bubbling liquids and a sizzle as of acid biting through metal, or perhaps flesh and bone. The overall feeling came across as more melodramatic than sheâd have preferred, but it certainly helped clear her head of the fuzziness sheâd felt at the edge of her thoughts since she caught sight of her opponent. Looking over the array of weapons available she settled on a sword, along with a couple of smaller knives that she hastily pocketed just in case. Swinging the blade in one hand and then the other to get a feel for it, she noticed the inlaid iconography depicting drops of poison and little hearts which made her almost groan as she realised who she was up against.
The woman he was facing looked formidable. And while he might be lucky that some of the Aphrodite charm might sway her for a little bit, it was only a matter of time. If he had a choice, he wouldn't hit her at all but he could only imagine the scolding he'd get from Trinity if he didn't fight back. She's already going to give him an ear full if he doesn't use his powers... Which he won't. He never does.
Wes spun around to face Fiona, giving the spear a twirl in his hands. "Be gentle," he commented with a sheepish grin before taking a defensive stance. Here goes nothing.
She grinned over at him, and raised her sword up in a salute âCanât promise.â
Did Wes ever mention that heâs not a fighter? Well, he isnât. Any successes on the battlefield were a fluke accident or just sheer dumb luck. Whichever it is, it was not battle prowess of any sort. So rather than overextending himself, he waited. Maybe he could play the defensive⊠or try at least. As long as there was distance between them, he focused the best he could on emitting pheromones. If it worked or not, he didnât know. But the only shot he had was hoping that Fiona found him so unbelievably handsome that she couldnât fight him.
Rather than the two of them engaging straight away they instead kept their distance for a moment, though while Fiona had begun to circle while looking for an opening her opponent appeared to be simply standing there doing his best to look impressive, heroic even. She had only taken a couple of steps before she looked at him quizzically, feeling a little uncertain as to what his angle was; for she was sure there was an impression that what he was doing ought to be well received and appreciated. She couldnât deny that he wasnât exactly hard on the eyes, but it was hardly a winning tactic. Then again, she thought as she cursed herself, here she was staring slack-jawed at him. Tightening the grip on her blade she quickened her step and darted forward, swinging her whole-body round to bring the sword down hard, as the fight began in earnest.
Ok, so the Aphrodite thing didnât work. Wes tried his best to counter her attacks and move out of the way. It worked for a time, side stepping or smacking the sword away with the spear. She had speed and skill, but he had the muscles. That was something⊠Right? But it could only work for so long. At some point the slippery little red head found her way behind him. She wasnât stronger than him, but somehow, she managed to worm him into an armlock of sorts, pinning his right arm behind his back with the spear for leverage. Stuck in her grasp there was a moment where he felt her face getting closer. He looked over his shoulder at the woman, and for a second, he thought she might try to kiss him. Her eyes seemed to be a little unfocused as she pressed her body closely against his from behind, her grip slackening slightly as fingers shifted to caress his skin while her lips brushed across his neck. Even so, there was little give in her hold to allow Wes much freedom, and the growing furrow of her brow suggested she was starting to question her actions in the moment.
Then genius struck. Itâs not often, but it happens sometimes. Praise Aphrodite for the opening. Wesâs left hand reaches up to his right shoulder and after a few quick moments under the collar of his shirt there was a hiss like the popping of a cork. Then, the bionic arm that was hidden by his sleeve fell to the ground like a dead fish. With the advantage, and most likely a moment of shock from his opponent, Wes scooped the spear from the dead hand on the ground and put some distance between himself and Fiona. "Sorry, Sweetheart. Iâve got myself a girl." He allowed himself a brief second to glance towards the stands, flashing Trinity a little smirk and a quick wink.
The cat and mouse game proceeded for a few minutes. A sword swing here or spear lunge there. But neither of them was getting the upper hand. Wes kept up best he could but he was getting tired and the lack of an arm cut whatever he could manage in half. In a last-ditch attempt, he charged right for Fiona, using his sheer size and mass to slam into her and knock her off balance. Without missing a beat, he thrusted the spear forward with whatever he had left in him.
The charge had thrown her off kilter entirely, so half staggering she twisted herself to fall backwards into the shadows to avoid being skewered, only managing to avoid the spear by inches. Reappearing at Wesâ shoulder a moment later she brought the hilt of her sword up towards Wesâ elbow, causing him to loosen his grip, so the spear fell uselessly onto the arena floor. Without giving him a moment to recover she stepped around from behind him bringing her fist up and smashing it into his nose with a sickening crunch. As his eyes blinked from the sudden impact, she pulled in close to him, her cheek pressed against his; her breath hot on his skin as she rested her lips against Wesâ ear and whispered in a soft voice.
âWould you offer your throat, to the wolf with the red roses?â
Her voice had regained more of its Irish tinge since her arrival at camp, given that she felt no need to disguise herself amongst her fellows, and as such she lingered on the final two words longer than most. As she finished her teeth sank into his earlobe, making sure to break the skin before she pulled back, her arm tracing lazily over his shoulder and caressing his throat. Her sudden departure throwing him a little off balance while the on her tongue did itâs work within his bloodstream.
Wesâs brows furrowed, confused at whatever nonsense she spoke of. "Is that Meatloaf?" He managed to say before the poison hit him like a train. Everything began to spin and grow fuzzy. His eyes blinked furiously as he looked towards the crowd. Familiar faces faded to blurs of different shades. He tried to find that familiar smudge of blonde but the toxin sent the world spiraling. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled before toppling over like a domino, right on his face.
Like the flip of a switch, the arena reset like a clean slate. Wes awoke like he had been taking a nap rather than given a fatal dose of whatever-the-fuck that girl had on her teeth. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back and sat up. He instinctively reached up and felt his nose, which was no longer broken. He lost, no surprise there. But there was still a part of him that felt a bit⊠Disappointed in himself. Even in knowing he couldnât win, somehow, he still hoped he would.
âSo, do you need a 'and?â she said, kneeling down beside her opponent, holding out the artificial arm to him for a moment before grinning and instead proffering her own hand to help him up.
Wes gave a weak laugh as he reached out and took her offered hand. He accepted her aid, but still tried to do a majority of the work with his legs so his big ass didn't topple the girl over.
âYouâre quicker than you look, neat trick wiâ this too.â she said handing him the arm.
"Thanks," He chuckled as he reached back over his head and pulled his shirt off. While he could remove the prosthetic easily with it on, it was a pain in the ass to try putting it back on with fabric in the way. He tucked his shirt in his back pocket of his jeans, before taking the arm. "If can't have fun with your battle scars then what's the point?" He jested as he started refastening the straps for the arm around his torso while moving toward the exit.
âNot much in the way of an introduction before, but Iâm Fiona, daughter of Hera if you hadnât guessed. And youâd be Aphroditeâs kid, right?â She asked as she watched him re-attach the missing limb with interest.
"The whole allure thing tends to give it away, huh?" He mused. Wes finished attaching his arm and pulled his shirt back on. He then extended his hand towards Fiona in a friendly shake. He lost, but that didn't mean he was a sore loser. "Wes."
After they finished with introductions the pair made their way back up to the stands. Fiona dropped the sword neatly back into the rack sheâd taken it from before the fight and returned to a slumped position with her shoulder against one of the columns in order to watch the next pair. While Wes made his way through the crowd to find his way back to the seat beside Trinity. With a soft sigh, he looks over at his blonde with a coy smile. "Well, I used pheromones. Does that count?"
Having been directed to an empty cabin upon arrival, and lacking the lurking ambush from the shadows sheâd been twitchily reacting to ever since sheâd left the beaten path to arrive here, she had finally begun to unwind. Her mother's talk of needing to prove herself and facing against her siblings had once again wormed its way inside, riling up every insecurity it could. As her meetings with her mother so often managed, and it was always somehow worse than the last. It made a lot of sense why so many of the myths seemed to revolve around children seeking to snuff out the lives of their parents, and not much had clearly changed given the feelings writhing in the pit of her stomach.
When the time came Fiona made her way to where the Arena was located, taking care to arrive not exactly late but taking her place moments before Nicholas made his introductions and explained what they were all doing there. She was only half listening, after all a duel was a duel so it would either go her way or it wouldnât, since her focus was more on roaming over the assembled demigods. She was trying to guess as to whom the owed their parentage, as well as estimating their social groups since while they were gathered close enough together there were definite cliques. Once sheâd taken the token from the bag she went back to lounging off to the side of the group, since she didnât want to tip her hand into siding with anyone yet, especially without knowing their loyalties and conflicts. It did seem like she wasnât perhaps the only outcast or new addition here for the couple of others who similarly hovered at the edges.
Wes, like most of the other demigods, was in no rush to go fight in the arena. Just the day before they all sat here watching their friends go through hell, then also faced their own worst nightmares. And while his night went better than most, that didn't change what he experienced. He had no desire to be there. And while some might find some relief in beating the shit out of each other to release some of their pent-up aggression from the trials, he wasn't. Plus, it was no secret that he was not one of the fighters at camp. He had enough public humiliation within the last 24 hours, he didn't need more.
Sooner or later, he had to step up and partake like everyone else. So, when there was a lull and no one seemed to be stepping forward, Wes stood up with a sigh. He flicked his bronze token in the air before catching it between his index and middle finger. "Bronze? Anyone?" he asked, waving the token as he descended into the arena.
Fiona looked away from the boy whoâd called out, glancing down to where her own token was still dancing along her fingers, the sunlight glinting off the metallic coloured surface. Dragging herself up from her ever worsening slouch on one of the benches she stood up, straightened her clothes and followed her opponent onto their field of battle. Her eyes taking careful stock of him from behind, initially in an attempt to appraise him for the fight ahead, before lingering appreciatively in places which seemed to push to the forefront of her thoughts.
Like other campers, Wes didn't control any elements, so the arena didn't really change at all for him. Just an offering of weapons that he was mediocre at using. He used a spear before against the Hydra, so he wondered toward that and took it up in his hands. It felt... weird holding a weapon. He was a lover, not a fighter.
As Fiona stepped into the arena, she felt the subtle changes beginning to take shape as it moulded to fit her strengths, with the air thickening slightly as it filled with a thin miasma while the shadows around them grew deeper and darker. There was the sound of bubbling liquids and a sizzle as of acid biting through metal, or perhaps flesh and bone. The overall feeling came across as more melodramatic than sheâd have preferred, but it certainly helped clear her head of the fuzziness sheâd felt at the edge of her thoughts since she caught sight of her opponent. Looking over the array of weapons available she settled on a sword, along with a couple of smaller knives that she hastily pocketed just in case. Swinging the blade in one hand and then the other to get a feel for it, she noticed the inlaid iconography depicting drops of poison and little hearts which made her almost groan as she realised who she was up against.
The woman he was facing looked formidable. And while he might be lucky that some of the Aphrodite charm might sway her for a little bit, it was only a matter of time. If he had a choice, he wouldn't hit her at all but he could only imagine the scolding he'd get from Trinity if he didn't fight back. She's already going to give him an ear full if he doesn't use his powers... Which he won't. He never does.
Wes spun around to face Fiona, giving the spear a twirl in his hands. "Be gentle," he commented with a sheepish grin before taking a defensive stance. Here goes nothing.
She grinned over at him, and raised her sword up in a salute âCanât promise.â
Did Wes ever mention that heâs not a fighter? Well, he isnât. Any successes on the battlefield were a fluke accident or just sheer dumb luck. Whichever it is, it was not battle prowess of any sort. So rather than overextending himself, he waited. Maybe he could play the defensive⊠or try at least. As long as there was distance between them, he focused the best he could on emitting pheromones. If it worked or not, he didnât know. But the only shot he had was hoping that Fiona found him so unbelievably handsome that she couldnât fight him.
Rather than the two of them engaging straight away they instead kept their distance for a moment, though while Fiona had begun to circle while looking for an opening her opponent appeared to be simply standing there doing his best to look impressive, heroic even. She had only taken a couple of steps before she looked at him quizzically, feeling a little uncertain as to what his angle was; for she was sure there was an impression that what he was doing ought to be well received and appreciated. She couldnât deny that he wasnât exactly hard on the eyes, but it was hardly a winning tactic. Then again, she thought as she cursed herself, here she was staring slack-jawed at him. Tightening the grip on her blade she quickened her step and darted forward, swinging her whole-body round to bring the sword down hard, as the fight began in earnest.
Ok, so the Aphrodite thing didnât work. Wes tried his best to counter her attacks and move out of the way. It worked for a time, side stepping or smacking the sword away with the spear. She had speed and skill, but he had the muscles. That was something⊠Right? But it could only work for so long. At some point the slippery little red head found her way behind him. She wasnât stronger than him, but somehow, she managed to worm him into an armlock of sorts, pinning his right arm behind his back with the spear for leverage. Stuck in her grasp there was a moment where he felt her face getting closer. He looked over his shoulder at the woman, and for a second, he thought she might try to kiss him. Her eyes seemed to be a little unfocused as she pressed her body closely against his from behind, her grip slackening slightly as fingers shifted to caress his skin while her lips brushed across his neck. Even so, there was little give in her hold to allow Wes much freedom, and the growing furrow of her brow suggested she was starting to question her actions in the moment.
Then genius struck. Itâs not often, but it happens sometimes. Praise Aphrodite for the opening. Wesâs left hand reaches up to his right shoulder and after a few quick moments under the collar of his shirt there was a hiss like the popping of a cork. Then, the bionic arm that was hidden by his sleeve fell to the ground like a dead fish. With the advantage, and most likely a moment of shock from his opponent, Wes scooped the spear from the dead hand on the ground and put some distance between himself and Fiona. "Sorry, Sweetheart. Iâve got myself a girl." He allowed himself a brief second to glance towards the stands, flashing Trinity a little smirk and a quick wink.
The cat and mouse game proceeded for a few minutes. A sword swing here or spear lunge there. But neither of them was getting the upper hand. Wes kept up best he could but he was getting tired and the lack of an arm cut whatever he could manage in half. In a last-ditch attempt, he charged right for Fiona, using his sheer size and mass to slam into her and knock her off balance. Without missing a beat, he thrusted the spear forward with whatever he had left in him.
The charge had thrown her off kilter entirely, so half staggering she twisted herself to fall backwards into the shadows to avoid being skewered, only managing to avoid the spear by inches. Reappearing at Wesâ shoulder a moment later she brought the hilt of her sword up towards Wesâ elbow, causing him to loosen his grip, so the spear fell uselessly onto the arena floor. Without giving him a moment to recover she stepped around from behind him bringing her fist up and smashing it into his nose with a sickening crunch. As his eyes blinked from the sudden impact, she pulled in close to him, her cheek pressed against his; her breath hot on his skin as she rested her lips against Wesâ ear and whispered in a soft voice.
âWould you offer your throat, to the wolf with the red roses?â
Her voice had regained more of its Irish tinge since her arrival at camp, given that she felt no need to disguise herself amongst her fellows, and as such she lingered on the final two words longer than most. As she finished her teeth sank into his earlobe, making sure to break the skin before she pulled back, her arm tracing lazily over his shoulder and caressing his throat. Her sudden departure throwing him a little off balance while the on her tongue did itâs work within his bloodstream.
Wesâs brows furrowed, confused at whatever nonsense she spoke of. "Is that Meatloaf?" He managed to say before the poison hit him like a train. Everything began to spin and grow fuzzy. His eyes blinked furiously as he looked towards the crowd. Familiar faces faded to blurs of different shades. He tried to find that familiar smudge of blonde but the toxin sent the world spiraling. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled before toppling over like a domino, right on his face.
Like the flip of a switch, the arena reset like a clean slate. Wes awoke like he had been taking a nap rather than given a fatal dose of whatever-the-fuck that girl had on her teeth. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back and sat up. He instinctively reached up and felt his nose, which was no longer broken. He lost, no surprise there. But there was still a part of him that felt a bit⊠Disappointed in himself. Even in knowing he couldnât win, somehow, he still hoped he would.
âSo, do you need a 'and?â she said, kneeling down beside her opponent, holding out the artificial arm to him for a moment before grinning and instead proffering her own hand to help him up.
Wes gave a weak laugh as he reached out and took her offered hand. He accepted her aid, but still tried to do a majority of the work with his legs so his big ass didn't topple the girl over.
âYouâre quicker than you look, neat trick wiâ this too.â she said handing him the arm.
"Thanks," He chuckled as he reached back over his head and pulled his shirt off. While he could remove the prosthetic easily with it on, it was a pain in the ass to try putting it back on with fabric in the way. He tucked his shirt in his back pocket of his jeans, before taking the arm. "If can't have fun with your battle scars then what's the point?" He jested as he started refastening the straps for the arm around his torso while moving toward the exit.
âNot much in the way of an introduction before, but Iâm Fiona, daughter of Hera if you hadnât guessed. And youâd be Aphroditeâs kid, right?â She asked as she watched him re-attach the missing limb with interest.
"The whole allure thing tends to give it away, huh?" He mused. Wes finished attaching his arm and pulled his shirt back on. He then extended his hand towards Fiona in a friendly shake. He lost, but that didn't mean he was a sore loser. "Wes."
After they finished with introductions the pair made their way back up to the stands. Fiona dropped the sword neatly back into the rack sheâd taken it from before the fight and returned to a slumped position with her shoulder against one of the columns in order to watch the next pair. While Wes made his way through the crowd to find his way back to the seat beside Trinity. With a soft sigh, he looks over at his blonde with a coy smile. "Well, I used pheromones. Does that count?"
Liam O'Connor & Lochlan Carmichael
Egotistical as he may be, Lochlan watched enough versus by now to have just a little bit of hesitance. These were males verse females and nobody held back and they all had gifts. Lochlan was used to ruling the roost among common people where everything was predictable and a cake walk. He was so deep in two mindsets. One; acknowledging he was in over his head and really had no idea what camp he had stepped into and two; they didnât have powers like him though.
He squinted at the latest battle unsure if he had been deceiving himself of a familiar rivaling face. But there was Sylas Astor. Which meantâŠLochlan was propelled to his feet to search the stands. He got even further forced to start walking the stairs down towards the arena, and when he caught his own actions, he froze for a moment. Deciding to own his odd actions and rather than be seen as retreating, he entered the gladiatorial arena and held his token high. He used the opportunity of middle ground to spin slowly but less in search for his opponent than⊠Sloane. Simultaneously his heart fluttered and sunk.
"Sloa-"
Liam watches Lochlan get up and walk down to the gladiatorial floor. He had been, after all, sitting just on the other side of Evelyn. He saw the red token held up but remained seated for a few moments more. Then the behemoth rose from his seat and walked down to face Lochlan. He took the token between his fingers and crashed it into fine red dust as if it were nothing. He didn't really want to be down here facing this shrimp. Luckily for Liam, Lochlan just uttered the right thing at the perfectly worst time.
The Arena didnât even get a chance to shift because of Lochlanâs mouth. As soon as that name began to spill out of his mouth, Liam's fist came into contact with his jaw. It'd be an instant nap. Nothing special. Nothing glamorous. A boring duel, if one could call it a duel at all. To those sitting outside, perhaps it appeared that the Son of Ares was taking it âeasyâ, for lack of a better term. However, people failed to realize just how agitated the man was, and how much even the slightest smell of blood or even the way his knuckled cracked against Lochlanâs jaw, tantalized his violent urges. It was damn hard not to give in to it and just beat his opponent to a bloody pulp - yes, even if he was unconscious.
He stood there for a moment as if thinking about whether or not he should continue. Lochlanâs shrimpy snoozing face made his blood boil - even what came out of his little shrimpy mouth. Shrimp. Sloane doesnât need a shrimp man. Or maybe she does? He was thinking again, right in the middle of the arena. What is this shrimp was what Sloane wanted? Why did he say her name? Who was this shrimp? Gods, that made him want to justâ no, he couldnât. He remembered Tartarus; his burning flesh and what felt like an eternity of impossibly hot hell.
His chest visibly heaved, and a couple of minutes passed. The Arena had yet to shift because it was testing him. Would he do it? He stared down at Lochlan. Where was his calm? Thatâs right⊠because he caught her in his peripherals. His calm. He looked in her direction for a moment, and she sat on the edge of her seat. He drew his gaze back to Lochlan, sighed, and put his balled fists back into his pockets. Heâd just scare her again and earn another trip to his own personal Hell.
As the arena worked its magic to wake Lochlan up, the Ares child moved toward the observation seats. Instead of going back to Evelyn, he chose to sit next to Sloane. The pair wasnât exactly talking right now, but Liam realized a fundamental truth to his own character. He needed her, and theyâd have to reconcile somehow. Once he sat down beside her, he leaned back against the next row of steps, spread his legs, and looked pretty chill to almost everyone. Except, his right leg shook uncontrollably and his fists remained in a ball in his pockets, and his entire body felt tense because his adrenaline had not been fully vacated.
Being a good guy sucks. He almost looked like a junky on a drug withdrawal.
Lochlanâs revival from being hit by a freight train was shocking to say the least. His lights went out, his body crumpled without any indicators and now he laid in the arena, eyes wide open and breathing heavily trying to make sense of it all. With whatever dignity he could muster, he used it to get up and wipe the dirt from himself and get back in the stands. But this time he was sure to sit by himself. Far away from others.
He rubbed his jaw uneasily expecting some sort of phantom pain but there was nothing, yet he knew it happened. He dared to glance at his giant opponent sitting by Sloane then flickered his eyes to the arena again with a thousand yard stare. That single punch packed a lot of power and it seemed he had some relation with Sloane.
xxxxxxx E V E L Y N xx M A S T E R S
xxxxxDaughter of Nemesis | Outift | #ffc300
None the type for further chatter and stationed between very different energies, Evelyn's usual keen focus and comprehension was slightly distorted, even regarding her own defeat which she'd usually evaluate and pluck apart for precise errors. Namely, the distraction was due to Liam's outstanding and now nearby presence and experience. He was intimidating certainly, especially closer up, yet at the same time, in that moment, she didn't feel in danger by him.
However, like so many others, she wrapped her attention up in the fights as best she could. Cherise and Sylas were the next to step forth, and while the daughter of Apollo fought practical and smart, Sylas overcame her. An outcome somehow she didn't doubt for as close as it looked. Then Wesley and a girl she couldn't say she recognised. Both had slipped under her radar so to predict a winner was near impossible. Their sword fight was hardly as intriguing as what happened behind the scenes, both's powers and abilities going unseen and unfelt to the observers but things were happening. Evelyn tilted her head slightly when Wesley collapsed. A son of Aphrodite didn't fall to command so...Hypnos?... But she couldn't shake the uncanniness of Eve. With slightly more tact of course, but Eve would play seductress like that given half the chance in a battle too.
Next to her, Lochlan left his seat looking for something which sheppard him to the arena in turn where he showed his token. The delay to meet his opponent only fortified the strange feeling swirling in her gut for the ignorant new demigod. From the corner of her eyes, she glanced at Liam before he rose to slaughter the boy.
She lowered her eyes, rubbed her forehead and exhaled. This would be no fight. And sure enough, it wasn't. Liam took him out instantly and while she expected him to keep going or march away, the beast just loomed over Lochlan. To be in his mind right now would be frightening. It seemed to be minutes of the son of Ares in debate with himself just standing there, predator to prey, then, at last, he walked away.
Evelyn didn't realise some bricks had been on her chest until both men returned to the seating and she could breathe a little easier again. Until the next spawn of a god with anger issues was summoned she supposed. Evelyn's eyes travelled the stands to the remaining Ares child.
As truly educational as these spectacles were, she almost had enough of watching demigod v demigod and corruption of the mind and violence.
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Sloane watched quietly. Everyone had been trying to push her to learn to fight and defend herself, so she tried her best to observe and learn. But the sparring didn't seem like the safest in the world. Twice she saw Andy fall into a fissure in the ground and each time she thought the girl may never come back up. The son of Poseidon said it was safe. After all, he emerged without wounds after taking injuries from daggers and whatever else. This could be good for her maybe, but her stomach still twisted in knots. She could only hope she wasn't put against either Ares child.
At least one of her prayers was answered⊠But, of course, it didnât come without its own troubles. Liam was up, but Sloane was left in a stunned silence at the male who waited for him in the arena. Lochlan. What the hell was Lochlan doing there!? She was half tempted to jump to her feet and shout just that. But rather she sat there in a stunned silence, staring as if sheâd seen a ghost. She didnât hear her name over the crowd, but she saw his lips move in all too familiar of a formation. Not a moment later Liamâs fist was in his jaw and then his body was limp on the ground. Finished before the fight began.
Sloane barely had the chance to sit on the edge of her seat, but still had the time for her knuckles to go white from her tight grip on the seat. She didnât know what she expected, but Liam taking up a seat beside her wasnât it. Last she recalled he seemed less than thrilled with her. But she also knew how protective and territorial he was. Perhaps it was to send a message to Lochlan. There were several times she thought about saying something, but it all came up short and she remained quiet.
Duke kept himself silent and reserved, glued to watching fellow demi-beings fight it out for victory. Some offered some interesting techniques only emphasizing what a threat they could be to each other. Plenty and enough duos passed and Duke knew his time would come and he could either wait for his matching purple token to step forward when they were ready or initiate it himself. He flicked the tiny coin-like object and took himself into the middle of the show, down the steps and into the gladiatorial arena holding up his purple token high. Whoever his opponent, they took to testing his patience or their eyesight was crap. "Does anybody have the other purple?" Which was the nicest way he could announce to whoever had it, to hurry up.
She had nearly missed Duke approach the arena and hold up a purple token. Purple... purple. Her eyes went wide as she dug in her pocket to find an identical match. "Here," Sloane said as she held up her own purple trinket. She slowly stood up and made her way down to the arena. After tossing the coin back into the bag, she walked over to Duke and held out her petite right hand. "I don't think we've properly met. I'm Sloane." She knew who he was. Duke was one of the people who stood up in defense for Alex at her trial, but she didn't remember seeing him at her own. So, to the best of her knowledge, this could be the first time the son of Hephaestus ever laid eyes on her.
Duke scrutinized the girl as she headed down to meet him. She was small, not that that was a hard margin next to Duke, pale, petite in every portion and kept a relatively low profile. He was suddenly glad he hadn't been brasher when waiting for her because she didn't seem to deserve it. By the time she stood before him, a neutral expression waited on his face. Duke nodded his head to her with her greeting and clamped her hand in his. "Good to meet you properly. Duke. Sorry about the circumstances." He flashed her a kind brief smile. Truly it wasn't ideal to meet someone officially then have to engage in combat.
Sloane returned the smile before turning and heading toward her side of the arena. She found an assortment of weapons laying out across several tables for her to choose from. Her brows furrowed as she slowly stepped forward. What kind of weapon would suit her? She hadn't a clue. She was not strong, so it'd have to be something small like... a dagger? She reached out to take the small blade, but stopped when her gaze drifted over to one of the few shields that laid out on a table. Each of them looked fairly similar, but one caught her attention. It looked no different than the others, but this one had a chimera on the front. It took a moment, but she slowly remembered that the chimera was a beast that could breathe fire...
She stared at the shield for a moment or two longer, before taking it up and strapping it to her left arm. Sloane had never seen Duke fight, so she had no idea how or if he could control fire. There was no textbook on what powers each demigod would get or how they'd use them. But something in her gut said to grab the shield, just in case. Hell, she didn't even know if the shield was flame repellent. It could just be a symbol and nothing more, but on the off chance it meant something more, she had to take it.
They had turned their backs to each other to prepare for the environmental shift and pluck their weapon of choice, Duke's being a double-edged ax. He half expected to turn back and his opponent be ready and slash at him with all her might. Yet when he turned she was still in debate about what item to choose. He pursed his lips as her error was large. He was temporarily torn between making a point by attacking her from behind to end the duel nice and quick or to let her be. She was only lucky he was honorable he supposed.
Sloane didn't say anything. She just took up the best stance she could manage and gave Duke a nod. To everyone else outside the arena she might have looked like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she kind of was. The shield, while average in size, made her look a child because of her stature. Duke was bigger and stronger than her in every way. If she could manage to get a single hit on him, she'd consider that a victory.
With her nod of approval, Duke readjusted his grip on the ax. Proportionally, this felt cruel but he'd be sure to never underestimate a demigod. He only hoped she knew how to handle a shield at least. Duke stepped forward and swung for her being met with a clang of metal on shield. The clash of the weapons reverberated through Sloane as she held up the sheet of metal with all her might. He swung again and again, four times consecutively, putting his weight behind it, each time meeting the face of the shield.
After each attack Sloane took a defensive step back, trying not to let Duke too close. When she saw the attack coming she was able to side step, letting the large blades slice the air beside her. She was trying her best to tire him, but it seemed to be wearing on her faster. With another crash on the shield she was forced to one knee. One more strike and that would be the end of it. Sloane, quick on her feet, took the opportunity while he raised his weapon to fall to the ground and slide between his legs. His ax slammed into the ground and with his back still turned she raised her foot and kicked the back of his knee with all her might. While she wasnât strong, the blow had enough force to knock him off balance and send his weapon from his grasp.
Duke watched his ax slide away from him, dumbfounded, before looking back at the girl. But there was more artillery stocked. Dukeâs hands began to glow red before being consumed in fire. Sloane was just barely able to grab her shield and hold it up before he sent fire shooting out from his palms. She was small, which worked in her favor. Her petite form was able to duck behind the entirety of the shield, avoiding intensity of the fire. But that didnât stop the heat from being almost unbearable or the stray spark from lighting a few of her hairs.
He focused all his might and power into the flames, pushing the intense heat into the shield, hoping to melt it. At least that's typically what Dukeâs abilities could do, but the chimera shield served a magical barrier, impervious to his flames. He ceased recognizing it took no effect even briefly admiring the properties of the defensive tool. Quick to gather his wits, he waved his arms across each other setting the ground alight all around Sloane in a perfect circle that's flames would either scorch her or smoke would choke her.
Before Sloane had a chance to move or react, Duke placed her in a fiery prison. Any and every mode she made was found with a singe, burning holes in her clothing and blistering her skin. After a few breaths the smoke had found its way into her lungs. Gods it was hot and she could barely breathe. She imagined thatâs what hell felt like. Unbearable heat that felt like a thousand pounds, sucking the air out of your lungs before it entered. She was dying⊠She felt it. Sloane had to do something and quick.
Watching the brunette encapsulated by his flames was not a nice sight. While he felt no such effects with fire, he knew how destructive it could be to others. How the extreme heat overruled. How the smoke crept in to invade the senses. But he always kept his eyes on the target so he could tame or enhance his fire accordingly. "Just surrender," he muttered to himself.
There was no way Sloane was getting out of there without getting burnt more than she already had. So before she could second guess her decision, she threw her right arm through the flames, reach her hand out toward Duke. She knew it was going to hurt but no amount of preparation could have made her ready for the searing pain she felt. She couldnât stop herself from screaming out. Her eyes shut tight as she tried her best to focus. Out of shock, Duke recoiled and began to step back out of reach. Sloane was unable to wrap her fingers around his ankle in time, only the tips of her fingers seemed to brush him.
While it wasnât strong enough of a touch to control Duke indefinitely, they still connected, even if it were brief. With that little touch a small nugget of a thought wormed its way into his mind. Freeze. Sloane knew the persuasion wouldnât last long. So once he froze where he stood and flames got weaker, she moved. She threw down the shield over the far edge of the flame circle and jumped through the small opening she made. Flames nipped at her feet and burned away loose hair but she paid it no mind.
With the overwhelming command to suddenly freeze, Duke was stunned to find himself doing just that. And without his control, the flames started to dither leaving Sloane an opportunity for escape. It was odd trying to rip his feet from the earth because he knew what he wanted to do and it wasn't standing still watching her gain substantial ground. Duke grimaced then finally his legs and mind obeyed him in full again and he broke into a sprint after her, scooping up his ax as he pursued.
Sloane didnât have the time to waste to retrieve her shield. Her sights were set on one thing and one thing only, the weapons table. She started sprinting as fast as she could in the opposite direction of Duke. He might have been bigger, stronger, maybe even more powerful⊠But she was small and quick. She didnât have to look back over her shoulder to know he was chasing after her. His foot falls were loud and terrifying as he thundered after her.
Though his strides outmatched hers, as he chased, Duke's hand-illuminated red again before throwing balls of fire at her. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see a large fireball hurling towards her. Sloane side-stepped just before it slammed into the ground beside her. She was nearly there as fire rained down around her. Sloane tried her best to dart back and forth unpredictably. But it was only a matter of time before she dodged right into line of one of the balls. It slammed into her side and sent her stumbling forward. She cried out as she held her side. She couldnât stop, not now. She had to prove it to everyone else, but more importantly to herself, that she wasnât weak. That she could do this.
Sloane limped forward as fast as she could, but Duke was gaining on her and quick. She reached the table, slamming into the side of it just as he caught up with her. Not accounting for her wounded clumsiness Duke followed crashing into her, taking them both down. There was a brief scramble but Duke pushed Sloane onto her back, braced a hand on her shoulder and raised the ax high. And just before he went to swing down, he felt the point of a dagger pressed against his chest. "Checkmate," she muttered between pants. He looked down at the blade, where his chest raised and fell heavily, then at her, like he had to see it to believe it.
She remained frozen there, unyielding, until the arena began to reset. The weapons in their hands vanished along with the various burns that plagued her body, only leaving behind the soot and her tattered clothing. Luckily, enough remained so that her modesty was still intact, but just barely. One leg of her pants was riddled with holes and tears, while the other was completely gone. Her shirt ceased to exist beyond the hem at her waist and the various pieces of fabric that dangled from it. Thankfully her sports bra still held on strong, aside from one of the straps being snapped and hanging freely.
Duke climbed to his feet then gave Sloane a hand up as well. If there was ever a time he liked to be proved wrong it was in situations like this. He gave her a nod of respect and once over. Lots of people weren't willing to sacrifice their clothes or flesh for a burn but she committed and showed serious stones.
"Letâs never do this again," Sloane commented with a point toward Duke. She no longer had the wounds, but that didnât stop her from being overly exhausted and winded. "Gods I hate fire," she grumbled to herself as she exited the arena and made her way back to her seat beside Liam. If it were a different day and the pair were talking, she might have been excited she won⊠Gloated even. But no. It was still silent as she sighed, looking forward.
Duke smiled at her overheard comments and returned to the seats to become a spectator once more.
Sloane watched quietly. Everyone had been trying to push her to learn to fight and defend herself, so she tried her best to observe and learn. But the sparring didn't seem like the safest in the world. Twice she saw Andy fall into a fissure in the ground and each time she thought the girl may never come back up. The son of Poseidon said it was safe. After all, he emerged without wounds after taking injuries from daggers and whatever else. This could be good for her maybe, but her stomach still twisted in knots. She could only hope she wasn't put against either Ares child.
At least one of her prayers was answered⊠But, of course, it didnât come without its own troubles. Liam was up, but Sloane was left in a stunned silence at the male who waited for him in the arena. Lochlan. What the hell was Lochlan doing there!? She was half tempted to jump to her feet and shout just that. But rather she sat there in a stunned silence, staring as if sheâd seen a ghost. She didnât hear her name over the crowd, but she saw his lips move in all too familiar of a formation. Not a moment later Liamâs fist was in his jaw and then his body was limp on the ground. Finished before the fight began.
Sloane barely had the chance to sit on the edge of her seat, but still had the time for her knuckles to go white from her tight grip on the seat. She didnât know what she expected, but Liam taking up a seat beside her wasnât it. Last she recalled he seemed less than thrilled with her. But she also knew how protective and territorial he was. Perhaps it was to send a message to Lochlan. There were several times she thought about saying something, but it all came up short and she remained quiet.
Duke kept himself silent and reserved, glued to watching fellow demi-beings fight it out for victory. Some offered some interesting techniques only emphasizing what a threat they could be to each other. Plenty and enough duos passed and Duke knew his time would come and he could either wait for his matching purple token to step forward when they were ready or initiate it himself. He flicked the tiny coin-like object and took himself into the middle of the show, down the steps and into the gladiatorial arena holding up his purple token high. Whoever his opponent, they took to testing his patience or their eyesight was crap. "Does anybody have the other purple?" Which was the nicest way he could announce to whoever had it, to hurry up.
She had nearly missed Duke approach the arena and hold up a purple token. Purple... purple. Her eyes went wide as she dug in her pocket to find an identical match. "Here," Sloane said as she held up her own purple trinket. She slowly stood up and made her way down to the arena. After tossing the coin back into the bag, she walked over to Duke and held out her petite right hand. "I don't think we've properly met. I'm Sloane." She knew who he was. Duke was one of the people who stood up in defense for Alex at her trial, but she didn't remember seeing him at her own. So, to the best of her knowledge, this could be the first time the son of Hephaestus ever laid eyes on her.
Duke scrutinized the girl as she headed down to meet him. She was small, not that that was a hard margin next to Duke, pale, petite in every portion and kept a relatively low profile. He was suddenly glad he hadn't been brasher when waiting for her because she didn't seem to deserve it. By the time she stood before him, a neutral expression waited on his face. Duke nodded his head to her with her greeting and clamped her hand in his. "Good to meet you properly. Duke. Sorry about the circumstances." He flashed her a kind brief smile. Truly it wasn't ideal to meet someone officially then have to engage in combat.
Sloane returned the smile before turning and heading toward her side of the arena. She found an assortment of weapons laying out across several tables for her to choose from. Her brows furrowed as she slowly stepped forward. What kind of weapon would suit her? She hadn't a clue. She was not strong, so it'd have to be something small like... a dagger? She reached out to take the small blade, but stopped when her gaze drifted over to one of the few shields that laid out on a table. Each of them looked fairly similar, but one caught her attention. It looked no different than the others, but this one had a chimera on the front. It took a moment, but she slowly remembered that the chimera was a beast that could breathe fire...
She stared at the shield for a moment or two longer, before taking it up and strapping it to her left arm. Sloane had never seen Duke fight, so she had no idea how or if he could control fire. There was no textbook on what powers each demigod would get or how they'd use them. But something in her gut said to grab the shield, just in case. Hell, she didn't even know if the shield was flame repellent. It could just be a symbol and nothing more, but on the off chance it meant something more, she had to take it.
They had turned their backs to each other to prepare for the environmental shift and pluck their weapon of choice, Duke's being a double-edged ax. He half expected to turn back and his opponent be ready and slash at him with all her might. Yet when he turned she was still in debate about what item to choose. He pursed his lips as her error was large. He was temporarily torn between making a point by attacking her from behind to end the duel nice and quick or to let her be. She was only lucky he was honorable he supposed.
Sloane didn't say anything. She just took up the best stance she could manage and gave Duke a nod. To everyone else outside the arena she might have looked like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she kind of was. The shield, while average in size, made her look a child because of her stature. Duke was bigger and stronger than her in every way. If she could manage to get a single hit on him, she'd consider that a victory.
With her nod of approval, Duke readjusted his grip on the ax. Proportionally, this felt cruel but he'd be sure to never underestimate a demigod. He only hoped she knew how to handle a shield at least. Duke stepped forward and swung for her being met with a clang of metal on shield. The clash of the weapons reverberated through Sloane as she held up the sheet of metal with all her might. He swung again and again, four times consecutively, putting his weight behind it, each time meeting the face of the shield.
After each attack Sloane took a defensive step back, trying not to let Duke too close. When she saw the attack coming she was able to side step, letting the large blades slice the air beside her. She was trying her best to tire him, but it seemed to be wearing on her faster. With another crash on the shield she was forced to one knee. One more strike and that would be the end of it. Sloane, quick on her feet, took the opportunity while he raised his weapon to fall to the ground and slide between his legs. His ax slammed into the ground and with his back still turned she raised her foot and kicked the back of his knee with all her might. While she wasnât strong, the blow had enough force to knock him off balance and send his weapon from his grasp.
Duke watched his ax slide away from him, dumbfounded, before looking back at the girl. But there was more artillery stocked. Dukeâs hands began to glow red before being consumed in fire. Sloane was just barely able to grab her shield and hold it up before he sent fire shooting out from his palms. She was small, which worked in her favor. Her petite form was able to duck behind the entirety of the shield, avoiding intensity of the fire. But that didnât stop the heat from being almost unbearable or the stray spark from lighting a few of her hairs.
He focused all his might and power into the flames, pushing the intense heat into the shield, hoping to melt it. At least that's typically what Dukeâs abilities could do, but the chimera shield served a magical barrier, impervious to his flames. He ceased recognizing it took no effect even briefly admiring the properties of the defensive tool. Quick to gather his wits, he waved his arms across each other setting the ground alight all around Sloane in a perfect circle that's flames would either scorch her or smoke would choke her.
Before Sloane had a chance to move or react, Duke placed her in a fiery prison. Any and every mode she made was found with a singe, burning holes in her clothing and blistering her skin. After a few breaths the smoke had found its way into her lungs. Gods it was hot and she could barely breathe. She imagined thatâs what hell felt like. Unbearable heat that felt like a thousand pounds, sucking the air out of your lungs before it entered. She was dying⊠She felt it. Sloane had to do something and quick.
Watching the brunette encapsulated by his flames was not a nice sight. While he felt no such effects with fire, he knew how destructive it could be to others. How the extreme heat overruled. How the smoke crept in to invade the senses. But he always kept his eyes on the target so he could tame or enhance his fire accordingly. "Just surrender," he muttered to himself.
There was no way Sloane was getting out of there without getting burnt more than she already had. So before she could second guess her decision, she threw her right arm through the flames, reach her hand out toward Duke. She knew it was going to hurt but no amount of preparation could have made her ready for the searing pain she felt. She couldnât stop herself from screaming out. Her eyes shut tight as she tried her best to focus. Out of shock, Duke recoiled and began to step back out of reach. Sloane was unable to wrap her fingers around his ankle in time, only the tips of her fingers seemed to brush him.
While it wasnât strong enough of a touch to control Duke indefinitely, they still connected, even if it were brief. With that little touch a small nugget of a thought wormed its way into his mind. Freeze. Sloane knew the persuasion wouldnât last long. So once he froze where he stood and flames got weaker, she moved. She threw down the shield over the far edge of the flame circle and jumped through the small opening she made. Flames nipped at her feet and burned away loose hair but she paid it no mind.
With the overwhelming command to suddenly freeze, Duke was stunned to find himself doing just that. And without his control, the flames started to dither leaving Sloane an opportunity for escape. It was odd trying to rip his feet from the earth because he knew what he wanted to do and it wasn't standing still watching her gain substantial ground. Duke grimaced then finally his legs and mind obeyed him in full again and he broke into a sprint after her, scooping up his ax as he pursued.
Sloane didnât have the time to waste to retrieve her shield. Her sights were set on one thing and one thing only, the weapons table. She started sprinting as fast as she could in the opposite direction of Duke. He might have been bigger, stronger, maybe even more powerful⊠But she was small and quick. She didnât have to look back over her shoulder to know he was chasing after her. His foot falls were loud and terrifying as he thundered after her.
Though his strides outmatched hers, as he chased, Duke's hand-illuminated red again before throwing balls of fire at her. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see a large fireball hurling towards her. Sloane side-stepped just before it slammed into the ground beside her. She was nearly there as fire rained down around her. Sloane tried her best to dart back and forth unpredictably. But it was only a matter of time before she dodged right into line of one of the balls. It slammed into her side and sent her stumbling forward. She cried out as she held her side. She couldnât stop, not now. She had to prove it to everyone else, but more importantly to herself, that she wasnât weak. That she could do this.
Sloane limped forward as fast as she could, but Duke was gaining on her and quick. She reached the table, slamming into the side of it just as he caught up with her. Not accounting for her wounded clumsiness Duke followed crashing into her, taking them both down. There was a brief scramble but Duke pushed Sloane onto her back, braced a hand on her shoulder and raised the ax high. And just before he went to swing down, he felt the point of a dagger pressed against his chest. "Checkmate," she muttered between pants. He looked down at the blade, where his chest raised and fell heavily, then at her, like he had to see it to believe it.
She remained frozen there, unyielding, until the arena began to reset. The weapons in their hands vanished along with the various burns that plagued her body, only leaving behind the soot and her tattered clothing. Luckily, enough remained so that her modesty was still intact, but just barely. One leg of her pants was riddled with holes and tears, while the other was completely gone. Her shirt ceased to exist beyond the hem at her waist and the various pieces of fabric that dangled from it. Thankfully her sports bra still held on strong, aside from one of the straps being snapped and hanging freely.
Duke climbed to his feet then gave Sloane a hand up as well. If there was ever a time he liked to be proved wrong it was in situations like this. He gave her a nod of respect and once over. Lots of people weren't willing to sacrifice their clothes or flesh for a burn but she committed and showed serious stones.
"Letâs never do this again," Sloane commented with a point toward Duke. She no longer had the wounds, but that didnât stop her from being overly exhausted and winded. "Gods I hate fire," she grumbled to herself as she exited the arena and made her way back to her seat beside Liam. If it were a different day and the pair were talking, she might have been excited she won⊠Gloated even. But no. It was still silent as she sighed, looking forward.
Duke smiled at her overheard comments and returned to the seats to become a spectator once more.