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Ryan Grayson

"I got this, I totally got this, that daughter of ares who looks like she can twist me into a pretzel ain't got.. Yeah, I am so dead."

0 · 1,212 views · located in Olympia

a character in “Land of Gods and Monsters”, as played by [Pending]

Description



Image "Look at me! Does it look like I know what I am doing? I consider it a win when I manage to wear matching clothes."











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FULL NAME:
Ryan Grayson

NICKNAME:
'That One Guy'
'The One With The Hair'
'You Know.. What's His Face'

AGE:
19

HOMETOWN:
Arvada, Colorado

GODLY PARENT:
Hestia

GENDER:
Male

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:
Heterosexual

ETHNICITY:
Caucasian

DOB:
11/16/1998

HEX CODE
#666666



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HEIGHT:
6'3

WEIGHT:
187 lbs

APPEARANCE:
Ryan is a rather plain dressing fellow preferring simple shirts and jeans with sneakers, usually high-top just because he likes the feeling of something snug hugging his ankles. He is way too afraid of needles to ever allow a tattoo near his beloved skin and having ink inside his skin? That is a big nope as far as Ryan is concerned. Despite his clumsy way of tripping over air, Ryan does not have a single scratch or scar on his body due to never really being hurt in his life thanks to his ludicrous luck that always favors him and his precious bones (of which he admittedly says he needs all of and needs them not broken or splintered). Ryan's hair is rather long and tends to get into his eyes but do nothing to cover his very large, and thick, eyebrows and thanks to his fascination with beards, he is always trying to grow one himself... and failing miserably only getting a 'chicken scratch' shadow.




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Humorous ❖ Kind ❖ Optimistic
Cowardly ❖ Guileless ❖ Clumsy


PERSONALITY


If there is one thing Ryan has in spades it is a sense of humor. He is always quick to laugh and joke with anyone who will sit next to him long enough to listen. But it isn't just his natural wit that is humorous it is his very nature. He has an almost.. awkward charm about him. A certain way he moves and looks at the world that causes laughs or snickers from those around him, and it is something Ryan embraces. He loves making others laugh, while others use humor as a defense mechanism, Ryan uses it to get the attention he craves just like a small child. This desire to make others laugh comes from a deep seated desire to make others happy because Ryan is a kind soul. He doesn't like hurting others or causing pain. A large part of his hatred of fighting or violence is not the fear of getting hurt but not wanting to hurt them. It isn't something he thinks about or acknowledges, especially in the moment, but it is there, lurking in the back of his mind. Just like his mother's domain, he.. likes to build happiness and comradely, a home, with others and caring for others is the first step in that regard. Coupled with these two is his almost naive level of optimism. He genuinely believes things in life tend to work out, that the vast majority of people in the world are good and, if given the chance, will do the right thing. His incredible luck does not dour this mindset since, for him, things do tend to work out. At best, his nature gives others hope, at worst, it drives them insane with annoyance as someone who looks at the sky too long doesn't notice when everyone else is walking through piles of dog shit.

But, as mentioned before, being kind is only half the story, the other half is Ryan is a true coward. He hates fighting, angering people, and has never had the 'fight' response appear as the 'flight' tends to beat it to the party by a mile. While a part of him feels shame about it, he owns it as it is who he is and he can only ever be him. While this isn't something that is going to earn him dates, after all, no knight has ever won a damsel by running from the dragon screaming in fear, it is the price he lives with. Along with his cowardice, Ryan is completely guileless. He isn't 'honest', per say, as he will lie from time to time, it is just that his lies are.. awful. He has no poker face whatsoever and tends to make elaborate likes that no one would ever believe complete with changing stories and stuttering. More to the point, he has extreme difficulty with telling when other people are lying or trying to deceive him especially when, being the optimist he is, he tends to take people at face value believing them to be better then they usually are. This clumsy way of lying stretches to everything he does as Ryan is one of those rare, talented individuals who can trip up the stairs. He is clumsy with his emotions, timing, jokes and feet... Despite being, arguably, one of the luckiest people alive that fact doesn't seem to have made it to his feet, but then again, he has never harmed himself in his numerous falls and tumbles so that is something.





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QUIRKS

Wave Your Hands Like You Just Don't... Ryan is a very animated speaker, his hands moving, jumping and annotating everything he is saying. The more intense the feeling or words, the faster they tend to jump around.

T-That's All Folks... When surprised, scared or intensely emotional, Ryan has a tendency to stutter.

Did It Just Get Cold In Here... Ryan rarely sweats unless the temperature changes. If he enters another room and it is hotter, or colder, then the previous room, he will sweat until his body 'gets used to' the new temperature.

Nail Biter... He bites his nails. Sue him.

LIKES
      Cooking
      Napping
      Video Games
      Music
      Dancing (Horribly)
      Singing (Way out of tune)
      Joking
      Reading
      Cats (And Dogs)
      Greasy Food
      Beards
      'Kid' Movies
      Cartoons
      Mornings
      Sunrises
      Snow/Rain

DISLIKES
      Vegetarian Dishes
      Fire
      Smoke
      Pain
      The Dark
      Fighting
      Horror Movies
      The Gods/Goddesses
      Heat
      Onions




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GRADE:
12th


TEAM ROLE:
'Special'

RELATIONSHIP WITH GODLY PARENT:
Terrible. Ryan resents his mother and wants nothing to do with her outside of his planned 'destined' meeting where he can tell her how he feels to her face. He has had no 'real' contact, and if there was something small like leaving a gift or something, he has not noticed and tends to chalk those up to his supernatural luck.

HOBBIES:
Reading
Video Games
Cooking

AMBITIONS:
He wants to be face to face with his mother, the one who sent him to an orphanage, erased the memories of what father he could have had and couldn't be bothered to even attempt to raise her own child instead pawning them off to various orphanages for 'their own good'. He plans on saying a single line to his mother, a line he has been practicing in the mirror for a very long time, "Hey, mom, I am Ryan Grayson and you didn't want me. But here I am, won this stupid contest just so I can tell you this to your face, thank you for giving birth to me, now go straight to Tartarus. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Oh, and fuck you."

FEARS:

Pyrophobia - Ryan has a paralyzing and crippling fear of fire. The mere sight of it will cause him to freeze up, unable to move or speak, just stare at the dancing flames. This is extremely uncommon considering his heritage but Ryan is an oddity and he owns it.

Abandonment/Rejection - Being a child of Hestia, he likes having a home.. a family, he hasn't really had either in a very long time. Having lived most of his life in an orphanage, he knows what it is like to be lined up like cattle hoping, praying, that someone chooses him.. and to know that crushing feeling of despair when they walk right past to a child that is prettier, stronger, faster.. better then him. Having had that happen so many times, he has come to hate the feeling of rejection, of not being good enough, it is a deep fear that has balled up into resentment he hides with bad jokes and he has learned to not seek acceptance anymore, better to just 'be'.

STRENGTHS

Oh, Look A Penny! - Ryan's luck, even by Hestia standards, is absurd. Things simply 'work-out' in his life and when 'bad' things do happen, they tend to work themselves out quickly and often in his favor. This has made him quite the optimist, but it is hard not to when the only real fight he has ever been in ended with him winning only because he slipped right when a rather hulkish woman threw a viscous left hook and smashed her hand against a tree shattering most of the bones on contact. This is counterbalanced in that he is the only, as far as he knows, child of Hestia that has no control over fire whatsoever.

Leg It! - Ryan is extremely quick and nimble, not quite to the level of the sons and daughters of Hermes, but close enough to not get lapped by them which is incredibly useful for a coward pacifist like himself.

Guys... Guys, Lets Calm Down And Bring It In To Hug Harbor - Having grown up in an orphanage around numerous kids, many of which who had 'troubled' past, Ryan is something of a home-maker. He is fairly good at getting people to get along, calm down and not try to stab each other with whatever pointy object is nearby. This is mostly due to his Mother's domain as it is in his nature to try and create 'home' and 'families' wherever he goes.

WEAKNESSES

Brave Sir Robin - Ryan is not a fighter, by any stretch of the imagination, nor is he anything approaching a lover, being as pure as snow in that regard. When confrontation does rear its ugly head, Ryan will hide behind the nearest warm body if that is an option, and failing that, he will flee the field, screaming in fear. He is more.. cheerleader, and not a particularly talented one, then linebacker.

Low Constitution - While Ryan is incredibly quick... he isn't the most enduring of folk. He gets exhausted extremely easily and almost any manual labor will have him panting for air and begging that someone carry him. So, if there comes a time when someone is hanging by a rope over a cliff, they better pray to all the gods that will listen that it isn't Ryan holding the other end of that rope.




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REPUTATION:
Ryan doesn't have much of a reputation. While he can be quite funny, he isn't really someone that is memorable or sticks in the mind. Most people forget his name and it is his face that they recognize. He is, as they say, beautifully plain.

FAMILY:
Various 'brothers' and 'sisters' at the orphanage

MISCELLANEOUS:
Ryan actually can command fire however due to trauma as a child, he is unable to call forth the flames and is, in fact, utterly terrified of fire which prevents him from ever using it. He, himself, doesn't know he can because he has blocked out most of the memories of that night from his mind in order to protect himself.




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FACE CLAIM
Justin Long

USERNAME

[Pending]


So begins...

Ryan Grayson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Blake Taylor Character Portrait: Jace Holmes Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson Character Portrait: Vince Darling Character Portrait: Ace Michael Thatcher
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xxxxxxJace Holmes
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HermesxxxxxSpecial xxxxxOutfit: [x] xxxHex#9eb21e
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"BABY I DON'T NEED DOLLAR BILLS TO HAVE FUN TONIGHT! I LOVE CHEAP THRILLS!"
The loud, and clearly off beat, singing was enough to drive Jace crazy. The pre-Agon bash was something every senior needed to experience so Jace couldn't refuse to come. He attended every previous one and it wasn't a party till the top troublemaker arrived. The event brought in plenty of students. Jace had to hold on tightly to his beer bottle if he didn't want to lose it. The theme this year was neon and the students definitely went all out. Almost everyone was painted in some whimsical design or wearing neon or light colored clothing; Jace was no exception. He wore a white shirt he wouldn't mind getting paint on and pair of black jeans, along with sturdy, black running shoes. Half of his face was decorated in curly lines, highlighting his blue eyes. Participation was his one award at every themed party. The decorations were mostly items painted in neon colors; the same for the dance floor and bars. Jace smiled as fireworks light up the dark sky, his own personal firework would be soon. He cashed in on a favor from one of the Hecate kids running the firework stand.

Jace took a sip of his beer, deep in thought. Don't get him wrong, Jace is a party animal. However on a night like tonight, he had more important tasks to do than get drunk at a party. Tomorrow is the big day. He has been training for this moment since he entered Legacy. Jace would get his wish or die trying, no other way. Nonetheless, Jace wouldn't let a good party go to waste. He'll go easy on the alcohol, but he was determined to have fun. A few of his buddies should be here tonight. Jace saw Ryan attempting to dance among the throngs of students. Ryan was one of the few nice guys at Legacy. He didn't know why they were friends, but the two worked well together. His dancing was a bit on embarrassing side, but it worked for him; his endearing, but awkward dance moves. If Ryan tries to get him to dance, Jace will be party stopper. Literally, the party will stop at his horrendous attempts at dancing. He scanned the party trying to find his fellow troublemaker, Ace. The two had already set up a prank for the naïve freshman who were so star struck by two seniors talking to them. He should be around here somewhere. Jace could hang out with his teammates... Vince is definitely here and Blake never misses a social event. Jace groaned remembering himself trying to convince his reserved, serious roommate and teammate to come tonight. He can remember everything.


"Jace, we should be training for Agon not partying."
Jace rolled his eyes at his troublesome roommate. How a troublemaker and the Captain America were put together; he'll never understand. Jace was checking his appearance in the mirror, brushing away one of his curls, while looking into Vince's eyes through the mirror.
"Exactly why we should party. Getting drunk off our asses and having fun is the perfect way to relax before the Hunger Games begin. Besides, I'm starting to believe you don't know what a party is."
The two were as different as night and day. They didn't get along, but they weren't enemies. Jace thought he was stuck up and uptight while Vince found him careless and disrespectful. However, the two worked well together.
"Let loose for once in your short ass life and have a fucking good time." Jace knew of Vince's dislike and disuse of cuss words which only made things more fun for Jace. "Show off your crazy awesome raps too. If you don't by the end of the night, I will embarrass both of us."


Jace smiled at the memory. He knew how to get under Vince's skin, not like it was difficult though. As he scanned the crowd, he made eye contact with an attractive, maybe junior, boy. His face was completely painted. Jace couldn't recognize him in the poor lighting, but he was attractive enough. Jace was never one to turn down a good time. He had a few sidepieces he could call up at any time, but he wasn't about to call someone when the music was loud he couldn't think. The junior approached him coyly. His attempt to be alluring was sweet and Jace always had a sweet tooth. When the two tried to converse, they laughed, not being able to hear each other. The younger boy motioned for Jace to follow him to opposite side of the lake, devoid of most party goers. Jace swaggered over to him, pleased he was lead somewhere private. The two reached the area before the boy changed in front of his eyes. The boy became a man; a man Jace never wanted to see. As Hermes stood in front of him smiling, Jace groaned. How could he be so stupid? He should've know better than to think a junior would approach him so confidently. Jace's eyes narrowed at his supposed father standing before him.
"What the hell do you want?
Hermes's face fell at his son's cold question.
"I'm here to wish my favorite son luck in the Agon tomorrow. I know you've been training hard."
Jace rolled his eyes. He didn't need this poor attempt at a heart to heart.
"Is that it?"
Hermes wasn't going to give up on his son easily. The two are still family whether Jace likes it or not.
"I was hoping we could talk."
"About what? How you almost sent me to jail or how all my relationships ended because of you? I can go on."
"First, you shouldn't have been stealing-"
"I'm the son of the god of thieves! What do you expect!"
"Jace, I am your father and-"
At that point, Jace couldn't control his rage. How can this god claim to have been a father! He started yelling, not able to stop himself.
"A FATHER? YOU NEVER WERE A FATHER TO ME! A FATHER DOESN'T TRY TO SEND HIS KID TO JAIL! A FATHER DOESN'T CAUSE EVERY PERSON HE EVER HAD FEELINGS FOR TO CHEAT ON OR HUMILATE HIM! A FATHER TAKES CARE OF HIS SON AND IS THERE! YOU WERE NEVER THERE FOR ME! YOU ARE NOT A FATHER!"
Jace tried to calm himself. He wasn't going to let the party shut down to listen to a father-son screaming fest.
"All you are is a fucking sperm donor to me. I would trade you for my human dad any day." Jace took a step closer to Hermes, his breathe hitting Hermes's face. "When I win the Agon, Zeus is going to make sure you never contact me again. You will be out of my life forever and then I will actually party. Stop trying to act like you're my parent. You will never be my father. Do you understand? I hate you. You mean nothing to me."
All of a sudden, a firework went off. The firework began to spell letters. A giant "FUCK YOU!' appeared in the sky. Jace's grin was hard to hide. Perfect Timing. Finding an opportunity to slip away, Jace left leaving Hermes shocked about the firework. He ignored his father's attempts to demand he come back. Jace was grateful for one thing Hermes gave him, his speed. He hurried back to the party, reconsidering his idea of not getting drunk tonight. He needed the hard stuff and a distraction too. Luck isn't usually on his side, but it was tonight. Blake was standing, drinking bourbon out of the bottle. Blake's beauty made her appear to be an angel and, right now, she was in Jace's eyes. He approached her, acting as if nothing was wrong. She smiled and winked at him as she passed the bottle. Jace took a long drink of the strong liquor. The burn felt amazing and he could feel his negative vibes melting away. He looked lazily at his favorite companion.
"I need you and this bourbon right now. Care to fool around?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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"Hundreds of drunk, horny teenagers in the same place? I feel a great disturbance in the force as if millions of unplanned parenthoods cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced."


Strobe lighting, fireworks that would turn even the most grizzled of pyrotechnicians green with envy and bad music coupled with even worse pick up lines then one can shake a stick at described the night perfectly. Well, and the smell. Nothing like the stench of spilled alcohol, sweat and the faintest aroma of vomit that always seemed to linger just on the edge of the senses to really bring it all home. The amount of time, effort and imagination that went into the Pre-Agon bash was almost inspiring, as was the numerous Agon dumpster babies that would surely follow, and it only served as a reminder that in the effort to get drunk and possibly laid was all the inspiration any teenager needed to strive for greatness... Or something like that.

None of that mattered to Ryan though. He was here to do what he did best, have fun and try not to think of his very, very likely impeding doom in the coming Agon. Nothing killed the mood to laugh, drink and attempt to score with various women, and fail gloriously, then the idea that, out of everyone attempting the Agon, he was the least qualified member to probably ever have attempted it. But none of that mattered at this moment in time, all that mattered was the dance 'floor' and there were four kinds of dancers showing off their talents: the true dancers who moved in rhythm and with practice, the grinders who didn't dance so much as dry hump their hormones out, the jumpers who had no idea how to dance but were just happy to be there... then there was Ryan who managed to both jump, hop, wiggle and shake all at once to what he happily referred to as his 'standing seizure'.

It didn't matter that his now slightly damp hair slapped his face every time he jumped or twisted too fast, or that a small bead of sweat rolled down his spine hidden from view by his beautiful plain gray t-shirt. It didn't matter if some people had managed to make a few feet of space around him, it didn't matter if people kept giving him odd looks or laughing at him because he was having an utter blast. Ryan came to a stumbling halt when his eyes laid upon a wonderful sight, a rather charming brunette with very charming [ass]ets[/i] that had her hands in her hair sending it flying around as she shook her thighs to an internal beat only she heard. Throwing on his game face, and smoothing out his thrice-cursed eyebrows with his fingers, he moved in for the 'kill'.

"Yo!" Ryan yelled over the noise, his shoulders rolling back and forth a half-second behind the beat, "Ryan! You?"

Without a beat, the pretty brunette shouted back, "Triss!"

Ryan furrowed his brows, "What!?"

"Triss!" Triss repeated again, cupping her mouth for good measure.

"What!?" Ryan yelled again as he leaned forward and motioned her to come closer.

Taking the bait, Triss leaned close to him, merely inches away thanks to Ryan's coaxing, but before she could say a word, Ryan backed up and held his hands in the air in mock surrender, "Whoa! Triss, if you wanted to dance you just had to ask. Jez, I know I'm handsome but buy me dinner first!" He finished flashing her his patented third deadliest smile.

Realization dawned in her eyes just as a large smile slipped its way across her face and it took every fiber of Ryan's being to not shout, 'Score!' for finally that line had worked... or kinda worked.. maybe? Ryan kept the smile as he zig and zagged his torse back and forth and grew giddy like a child on Christmas morning when she followed suit and copied his archaic dance.

They made no attempt at talking because in this noise, why bother? Ryan closed the distance between them even more and leaned down to speak in her ear, "Do you want a drink?"

When she nodded, Ryan felt something almost akin to triumph rise in his chest, "I'll be back," Ryan said and fought his way through the crowd, before coming to an awful sight. Two people very, very into a very passionate, almost too passionate, session of grinding. Without a word, Ryan started jumping, waving his hands in the air next to his head and started side skirting between them, "Excuse me!" He said cheerily, breaking them apart and passing through.. before stopping and coming back through, "Sorry again, forgot something!"

On cue, when they started to come back together, Ryan went through a final time, "Never mind! I have it," As he went through, he felt something hard pressing against his backside, "Whoa! First stop: Bone Town! Amirite?"

His words died when the small woman's face was very red, and her fist looked very large, "Or, you know, I could be wrong," Ryan said as he beat a hasty retreat tactical withdrawal.






After four grueling minutes of fighting his way through the crowd, he made it to the bar, "Hey! I'll take two.. uh.. those ones?" Ryan said point to two random bottles of whatever was in there. He wasn't exactly a connoisseur of liquor more of what they call a 'unpicky mooch'.

Bottles in hand, Ryan turned around to find his lovely brunette, a Ms. Triss, grinding with another man.. who was then pushed away by a very, very large and angry fellow and even from here Ryan had a feeling that Triss may have kinda-sort-totally forgot she had a boyfriend. A big one. With muscles. Who could break faces. Ryan faces. He had dodged a bullet as he didn't need a genius to tell him what was going to happen to that other guy's face... it was in for a long night of rearranging.

Just as Ryan shivered at the imagined pain, a body flew right past him. Ryan had to look twice, but yes, it was a body.

Ryan followed the trail of empty space back to the source, Abby. Of all the people here that guy had picked a fight with Abby? Ms. Will-Tie-Your-Dick-Into-A-Animal-Balloon Abby? Ryan wasn't sure what just happened, he waited for the obligatory 'You Got Knocked The Fuck Out!' comment but it never came and Ryan saw why.

Among her bag of tricks, playing Moses was one of them, although he had to say Abby was certainly a much better looking Moses, not that he would ever tell her that... and it also wasn't a very high bar to get over.

Before Ryan could say anything, Abby mentioned something about his jewels and with a surprising spring in his step, considering he had just been punted across the ground, he took off in a blur.

Distraction gone, Ryan looked down at the two drinks in his hands, to the brunette being dragged off the 'dance' floor by her very upset boyfriend to Abby, "Typical. Just.. Just typical," Ryan finished with a defeated sigh.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Blake Taylor Character Portrait: Joaquin Wolf Character Portrait: Jace Holmes Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Marisole Nadeau Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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#, as written by sappho
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marisole nadeau

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hex ; #5ac15c

outfit ; x

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Mari loved parties. Especially demigod parties. You could count on all of the talents, all mashed together to create a damn good jam. She found herself comfortable within the writhing mass of sweaty kids, probably doing the things their parent's have nightmares about. Even with her small stature it's not hard to notice the wild child of Demeter bopping along amiss the crowd. From her elegant, yet risqué dancing to the flowers that bloomed at her feet with every step she took. She couldn't help it, her control almost gets lost when she dances. It's certainly a strange sight. She couldn't count the mass of boys and girls that found themselves promptly trying to butt their way into her jam session, least to say none of them were successful. Most of them made it out with an eye roll but other's weren't so lucky.

After a while of dancing she couldn't help but feel a bit lonely. Normally she was surrounded by her friends, but Mari had gotten to the party quite early, and hadn't seen anyone she knew fairly well yet. The task of leaving the dance circle is a lot harder than it looks, but it wasn't too much of a problem for her. "Excuse me! Fuck out of my way please, thank you" She got a few annoyed glances here and there but there wasn't anything more relieving than escaping the circle.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of demigods some of them she knew. She saw Jace and Blake arguing, Quin near the edge by Ellis, and finally her eyes landed on a dazed Ryan holding two drinks standing next to the notorious, Abby Jarvis. She weaved her way over to Ryan snatching one of the drinks out of his hand and downing it in a matter of seconds. "Thank you, it's hot as hell in that dance circle" she commented placing the empty cup back in his hands and giving him an impish smile. It didn't take much inference from the second drink and disappointed look in his eyes to know what happened. "It's always 'the one that got away' from you isn't it, Ryan you really got to step up your fucking game". She gave him a glance over and raised a curt eyebrow, "Need a wing man?





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benjamin hughes

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Ben hated parties. Especially demigod parties. He would even be here if it hadn't been for Aya begging him to attend. Not only was he completely awkward around people in general, but parties were practically hell. He'd rather die in Agon than be in this gods-forsaken hole of intoxicated and horny demigods. Thankfully, it didn't take long to escape his half-sister's clutches when she became distracted in the entertainment, and he soon found himself near the edge of the chaos. Unfortunately, there were still a few party goers scattered around, the majority of them students making out in the darker corners. He tapped his finger nervously against his thigh in an attempt to calm his nerves, which were going a mile a minute. He hadn't been to a party in, well never.

His eyes scanned the vast field of demigods seeing a couple he knew but, being sociable wasn't exactly his favorite thing. His best bet was to escape entirely but Aya would've been unbelievably pissed at him which is something he did not want to see. After minutes of wandering around he happened upon, a bench, vacant bench. Thank you Hecate. Ben wasn't entirely sure if the blessing had been his mothers, but better safe than sorry.

To pass the time he aimlessly tapped his fingers on the bench, watching the demigods have fun. It wasn't that he was disgusted at the 'idea' of fun, rather that his definition meant writing or being by himself. However, he would do anything to make his sister happy, which involved brainstorming some miraculous story of his 'great night' at the party when she eventually found him. She'd definitely see right through his façade but maybe his attempt at trying would be good enough for her.

His mind eventually wandered toward thoughts of Agon. Tomorrow. He had no idea how he landed himself on a team, but he wouldn't question it. This was the one thing that he actually felt, well okay about. Of course there were the definitive ideas of 'certain death' but the idea of Agon seemed enticing to Ben.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sebastian Rhodes Character Portrait: Maya Torres Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Lux Slade Character Portrait: Marisole Nadeau Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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Intimate moments are delicate things, hard to maintain and easily broken with the wrong kind of pressure. That was doubly true when one of the participants in question was emotionally handicapped. Not that Apollo minded or anything; that was just part of Lee’s charm, but it was difficult sometimes when it always felt like he was pulling away.

“Do you think they’re ready?” It was a question asked out of love, not lack of confidence, but even Lee could pick up the note of anxiety that lay within. The god of light, and music, and bedroom eyes was also a father, and a pretty damn good one as far as the gods went. Lee had lost friends, peers, and students to the Agon, but Apollo had lost children. Perhaps Lee wasn’t the only one in need of comfort tonight. His grip on the god’s hand tightened just a fraction, his thumb tracing circles along his skin as Lee watched Apollo flash a smile at someone from across the field.

“No one’s ever ready.” Lee admitted with another drag from the bottle. “But they’re strong, and they picked their friends wisely.” Sometimes that’s all anyone could rely on. Apollo has two daughters in the fray this year, and Lee knew both of them well. Lux was far more combatively competent than her sister, but Maya was no one to underestimate either. It also helped that they’d both been smart enough to align themselves onto some of the stronger looking teams this year. Lee couldn’t make promises they’d survive this, but he felt the odds were in their favor.

“Why do you go along with it?” Lee asked impulsively. It was something he’d never understood about the god who seemed content to masquerade as a human and steered clear of the politics in Olympia. Why support the Agon, the source of so much heartache for both of them, if he didn’t involve himself in the power plays that was its primary function.

“What’s the alternative, open war?” Apollo ran a hand through golden locks, the exhaustion of his tone suggesting he’d agonized over the issue quite a bit. “I’ve seen what that looks like, the death that sows. At least now they have a choice…some semblance of a childhood.” He seemed less convinced by the last part, but Lee didn’t comment, instead passing him the bourbon. It took a lot more than a bottle of Kentucky’s finest to get a god tipsy, but Lee figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Their fingers lingered together on the bottle, and Apollo looked up as if to say something, or maybe something else… "What is with the long faces?" And just like that, the moment shattered. Lee scowled, cheeks flaming, as the perpetually oblivious son of Ares invited himself to join. Hale was a decent enough sort, but his timing fucking sucked. Lee continued to silently fume as Apollo simply laughed along, shifting much more effortlessly out of the heavier mood of their private exchange far more easily.

“Well, looks like bottoms up.” Apollo agreed as he pointed out a student in neon paint running round the field. If the amount of bending over and hunching was any indication, his state of dress wasn’t entirely willing. “Do you drink twice if they’ve been duped?” He asked with an arched brow. If Lee didn’t know better, it might even have looked innocent.

***
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Hades // Brain // Outfit // Hex #262f26
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Apollo // Special // Outfit // Hex #21b794
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Ares // Brawn // Outfit// Hex #FF0000


Wes had been nursing the same glass of scotch for the better part of an hour. As he’d never been one given to the loss of control inherent to drunken revelry, that wasn’t necessarily odd, especially with the Agon starting tomorrow. Considering his role was as chief strategist for the team, one might even call his moderation prudent. What was odd however, was his lack of killer focus. Women had always been drawn to Wes, or his wealth and position at least, and that effect was quantified exponentially in the presence of his best friend Sebastian. On a normal night, he would have already sequestered one of the girls vying for his attentions for the evening. The game he played was a delicate one; women were just as competitive as men, and winning was an intoxicating aphrodisiac. They’d play along for a time, but the kind of women he attracted didn’t share. If he didn’t give one their metaphorical tiara soon, the game would be a bust, no one leaving happy.

He just couldn’t make himself care, and that in itself was frustrating. Not having absolute control over his own emotions grated, and while logically Wes could identify the source of this change, he refused to acknowledge it to himself. And then, as if the mere whisper of a thought had summoned her, Lux was there, wearing the most ridiculously fetching getup he was almost embarrassed to admit he found appealing. His eyes chased her all the way to the bar with a look that smoldered like heated coals just waiting for tinder to ignite. He was so caught up, that he almost missed Seb’s remarks entirely.

“Ah, and with charm like that, how would I ever say no?” Wes tossed back as a playful smirk listed his lips. If the suddenly flushed cheeks were anything to go by, it was a proposition many of the girls here found appealing. Wes could practically see the wheels of fantasy turning in their heads as the imagined all the wicked things they might do to each other, and anyone lucky enough to be brought along for the ride. It was an amusing role to play to, and one Wes might have easily slipped into for an evening of meaningless fun…if not for those fucking heart framed nipples.

Calden Archer was naked from the waist up, more than happy to let his six pack speak for itself. His chest was mostly bare, with the exception of the pink glow paint hearts someone had drawn around his well-defined man-nips. His white swag cap was on backwards, glowing against the black light in a fashion that was hard to miss. Ordinarily, the cocky son of Zeus deciding to dress like a 90’s fuck-boy wasn’t Wesley’s concern…but he had just swaggered up to Lux with drinks in hand and a twisted half smile that any man with an ounce of testosterone could read the intent from. Something in Wes snapped.

“Slaaade!” Calden cheered as he swaggered up to Lux, tilted grin plastered across his face. “You went all fucking out girl! Nice aliens…are they down for some probing?” Cal knew Lux fairly well considering they were in the same class and combative groups, but it was the first time he’s ever seen her dress to impress with the assets, and it was a look he could dig.

“They’re occupied.” Wesley Tate practically growled from behind Lux out of nowhere. It was the kind of stealth Cal would normally find disturbing, not that he would admit to it, but was perfectly content to blame the alcohol on that one.

“I think it’s up to them whether or not to make first contact rich boy.” Cal smirked back, unperturbed as he took another swig from his beer in hand. Whatever Cal had expected Wes to respond with that stare and small delayed smile wasn’t it. He might have to watch his back tomorrow…

***


Maya still hadn’t quite forgiven Helen and the others on the party commission for going with the retro rave theme over the far more appropriate spring break beach getaway (They had a lake right there for gods’ sake!) one she’d spent the better part of a year planning out. She had to admit though, that it was going well, but she still maintained her tropical slice of the party, especially in the middle of so much neon crazy, was the best part. Besides, she sure as hades wasn’t wasting this outfit after all the time she’d spent putting it together. The pineapple passion fruit concoction Maya had been sipping on was a bit strong, but there was just enough sweetness counteracting the bite to leave a myriad of flavors playing across her tongue.

"I'm starting to feel a little over-dressed." Her beautiful friend Amelie came up from behind, and Maya gave her an appreciative once over as she asked for a drink recommendation.

“That…depends on how wild a night you’re in for.” Maya replied with a wink. “We’ve got Corona with lime stocked as lighter fare, but if you’re feeling more adventurous…” Maya grabbed one of the boozy tropical fruit smoothies she’d been enjoying herself, and handed it over to Amelie.

The timing of the hand off couldn’t have been better, because in a flash the open space between them was filled with Ace, dimples and all. Maya couldn’t help the smile that erupted across her face at Ace’s sly remark, and she wiggle her eye brows a bit as she inspected his own outfit for the evening. Far from the wildest outfit she’d seen this evening, but it screamed Ace, and she liked it on him.

“Nice paint.” Maya threw back with a wink. “Is it still wet?” She asked innocently enough, but an impish look twinkled in her eyes.

***


“Right…” Lottie agreed skeptically as her eyes followed Lucas’ retreating form, and then nearly jumped when she turned back to see one of the school’s more notorious children of Hera suddenly next to Abby. Lottie had nothing against Greer of course, but there was something about the sight of those two powder kegs together that set her nerves on edge.

“Like you need my help with that.” Abby smirked at her friend’s offer. They both knew Greer was perfectly capable of kicking any necessary asses on her own. Present company excluded, Abby had yet to see Greer in a fight she couldn’t handle, and her skirmishes made for damn good entertainment as well. “I might need help with this though.” Abby held up the bottle of whiskey, looking a little too pleased. “If you care to join.”

“Oh hey, Marisole!” Lottie called out suddenly, interrupting Abby’s thought, and drawing her eyes about ten feet off where her excited teammate (and her friends who were also apparently children of Demeter) had run off to greet her sister. Marisole Nadeau had earned something of a reputation at Legacy as a breaker of stereotypes. While it was true that some children of Demeter displayed more passive natures, many resented that trope, and the assumption of weakness that went with it. Especially for some of the younger Demeter students at Legacy, Marisole had become a role model, so Lottie’s excitement didn’t surprise Abby. Seeing her with Ryan Grayson was a different story.

Before she really had time to think about it, Abby had followed Lottie and her friends over to the makeshift group, Greer presumably behind her. “Are you excited about tomorrow? I mean, I’m kind of nervous, but a good nervous you know? Well, unless you don’t get nervous…’cause well I mean, why would you?” Lottie babbled like an excited puppy, laughing off her obvious nerves.

“Not that I don’t feel safe or anything!” Lottie’s eyes suddenly shot toward Abby almost in apology, before continuing to put her foot in her mouth. “Our team’s great! Wes is scary smart, Abby and Lux kick butt, and Seb is so…” She flushed, clearing her suddenly dry throat like she’d disclosed too much, before her eyes landed on the untouched cup in Ryan’s seemingly outstretched hand.

“Oh thanks!” Lottie accepted the drink, grateful for the distraction from her own babbling as she proceeded to gulp down its contents. Abby snorted, unable to hide her smile as she watched Ryan’s drink being jacked, and waited for his inevitable look of indignation.

“Not your night?” Abby drawled in what for her passed as a conversational tone. Ryan was Lux’s friend, so they’d spent enough time around each other to pick up on the other’s mannerisms. Things had a habit of both going terribly wrong, yet strangely alright for Ryan, which if nothing else, was entertaining to watch from afar. And maybe she enjoyed poking his buttons a little…

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Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Marisole Nadeau Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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"If you swing at every ball that comes over the plate you have to eventually hit one... Right? Right guys?... Guys?"


Ryan was far too busy contemplating the vast mysteries of life and all the secrets in the universe... or something like that, to notice Marisole burst through the crowd and come at him which was an impressive feat because Marisole was Marisole. Not exactly a meek person one overlooks or someone that didn't draw the eye when she entered a room something many sons and daughters of Aphrodite have noticed... much to her annoyance. He didn't know she was there until suddenly his right hand felt strangely empty.

He flicked his eyes down to his hand at it, still cupping the now non-existent cup as if it was still there waiting to be given to a girl Ryan had hoped to bag and not in the hands of a girl he couldn't bag, "You're welcome," Ryan replied on instinct as he blinked a few times to try and bring himself to his senses. Help?

"Psh, come on MJ, its all part of the long con," Ryan said, "Gotta get rejected, then, when I get that 'Oh, he is so damaged and lonely', vibe, I strike! Won't even know what hit them, its all part of.." His voice died off as he couldn't keep the joke up with a straight face anymore.

"Sweet baby Jesus, I need help MJ, I don't even know what I am doing most of the time, you know? Like..." Ryan paused trying to find a way to describe it as his now free hand rotated in circles, a fitting replacement for the small hamster running its little heart out, on its wheel, in his head trying to get out his thoughts in a semi-comprehensible way, "I just... do," Ryan said slowly, rolling the word around in his mouth as despite the efforts of the brave little hamster, he still couldn't find the right way to phrase his 'Ryaniness'.

Before Ryan could continue to explain his utter lack of skill and, overall, pathetic nature and beg her for her invaluable advice and assistance, when Lottie burst in talking to Marisole and just like that his potential wingman just went up in poof. More surprising was the arrival of Abby. Sure, he knew she was nearby, but he didn't expect her to come over to him, well, follow Lottie over to him.. semantics.

Ryan blinked as Lottie snapped the drink from his hand, his drink, and downed it in one go just as Marisole had done so moments before. It took a few moments for his mind to process what had just happened, his left hand opened and closed a few times as if trying to conjure the cup back to it from thin air. D-Did that just happen? Again? And why did they both chug it? There had to be a mouth joke in there somewhere. 'Putting those big mouths to use?', no, that didn't sound right. 'Glad you can hold your breath?'... No... 'Man, you can take some liquids to the mouth'... That.. That didn't work either.

He was knocked out of his internal search for the right thing to say, and it was too late to say something even if he had thought of it, by Abby, "What? How could it not be my night?" Ryan asked giving her a non-committal shrug, "I am surrounded by two uninterested beautiful women and an Abby, when I can't seem to 'woo' even the drunkest of women at this place. Totes amazing, if it gets any more amazing I'll have Blake calling me to talk about her feelings and boy troubles."

'Man, you two can swallow..' Damn, that would have been good.

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Character Portrait: Maya Torres Character Portrait: Marisole Nadeau Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson Character Portrait: Ace Michael Thatcher
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Godly Parent: Ares || Dialogue: #3D5726


Ace raised his brows at Maya's comment, a smile still covering his face. She was playful tonight, that was for sure. Of course, this didn't surprise him as Maya is always playful and bright like the sun. Ace didn't really know why he got along so well with Maya as they are total opposites. Maya was friendly and calm where Ace was aggressive and about as calm as a hungry lion. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that they balanced each other out.

Maya was the calm to Ace's storm and that could very well be the reason why he had always seen her as a friend. However, Maya is friends with pretty much everybody due to her laid-back demeanor and that might mean that she is only friends with him because she feels obligated to be.

Ace finds it difficult to trust her sometimes because of this and is wary about becoming close to her, but for now, he just wants to have fun. Fun without any more alcohol as Ace wants to be focused during the Agon tomorrow. Plus, alcohol makes Ace feel energized and god knows that he doesn't need anything to help him in that department. Even now, he was rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes as he talked to Maya. Ace may be reckless, but he wants to win and he needs to be focused to do that.

The impish look in Maya's eyes made Ace laugh. "You like it?" He playfully tugged on one of her curls. "I'm sorry to let you know that it's all dry now, nothing a little fresh paint can't fix though." He winked at her like she had done to him and leaned in to ask her a question. "Dance with me?"

He moved away from her and began dancing backwards into the dance crowd while keeping his eyes locked with Maya's. Ace wasn't the best dancer, but he knew a few moves. He had just started doing the moonwalk and pulled his eyes from Maya's for a brief second only to see Marisole talking to Ryan. His eyes lit up at the sight of Marisole, but seeing Ryan beside her made Ace roll his eyes. Ace didn't hate the guy or anything, he just found him to be so damn annoying. Always talking and saying stupid things that Ace could really give two shits about. Even thinking about Ryan was giving Ace a headache. As for Marisole, Ace would talk to her later. Right now, his attention was on Maya.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maya Torres Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Lux Slade Character Portrait: Marisole Nadeau Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson Character Portrait: Wesley Tate
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X // X // X

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Hades // Brain // Outfit // Hex #262f26

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Apollo // Special // Outfit // Hex #21b794

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Ares // Brawn // Outfit// Hex #FF0000


Whatever the half-naked son of Zeus saw in Wesley’s eyes, it was enough to make him take Lux’s advice to leave, but not without first extending the bird as his charming parting gift. Wes trailed Cal with his eyes until he was finally out of sight, his grim smile finally composing itself into something passingly close to friendly when they returned to Lux.

“That was never in question.”
Wes assured simply, leaving his meaning ambiguous whether he meant her ability to take care of herself, or his number of drinks. It applied to both regardless. Lux was capable of handling one drunken idiot, but that wasn’t the fucking point. Logic hadn’t been running the show during his pissing contest with Calden, as much as that pained Wes to admit to himself. The thing that hovered in the air between them was unspoken and fragile, but it was his. Wes usually thought of himself as above alpha male dominance displays, but there were some things instinctively even he succumbed to.

Lux could give him a run for his money in the manipulation department, and Wes knew he was being baited by her subtle challenge to walk away. He took it anyway, along with her hand as he followed her toward the dance floor. “I think you saw to that quite a while ago. No point in fretting now.”

Why the disco ball chose to make an appearance that moment was suspicious timing. Toto’s Africa chiming in to accompany it was even more so. Experimentally, Wes slid his hands down to rest on her hips, tastefully of course (for now), as other coupled paired off for the slow song. He raised a brow almost in challenge, waiting for her to circle her arms around his neck, or start clobbering him.


It's gonna take a lot to take me away from you!
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do!
I bless the rains down in Africa!
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had!


***

“Rats, my devious plot has been foiled! Looks like your face is safe—for now!” Maya laughed as Ace pulled her toward the dance floor. What was a little covert face painting between friends? It was probably for the best though, and for now she was happy enough to watch him do his best impersonation of Michael Jackson. With the disco ball out, and retro music playing, it seemed especially appropriate. Maya twirled along, more than happy to see the playful Ace out in force tonight. His eyes wandered for a moment, and Maya followed them to Marisole. An uncomfortable warmth bloomed in her chest for a moment before Maya squashed it back. Instead of dwelling on the unpleasant feeling, she grabbed Ace’s hand and twirled them deeper into the dancing throng while showing off a few of her disco moves.

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive!

It was during the chorus line of the Bee Gee’s classic that the telltale pickling sensation behind her eyes started. Now?! Why the hell was she having one now?! “Ace-!” That was the only warning she got out before any feeling of normal consciousness fled.

Instead of a crowded makeshift dance floor, Maya was in a narrow stone corridor. It was dimly lit and oddly enough, she could still hear the music echoing eerily off the walls. Disoriented, Maya felt her way across the hall toward open door that was her only source of light. An iron tang tinged the air, and Maya pulled her hands back when they touched something slick. As she got closer to the light, the source of the stomach turning scent became obvious. Every surface in the room was painted with blood, as if some kind of macabre artist had worked with gore instead of oils. On the table however, was a marble bust of her father, remarkably clear but for the long train of blood coming from his eyes…

Life goin' nowhere, somebody help me
Somebody help me, yeah, I'm stayin' alive!


Maya snapped back to reality harshly, kneeling on the floor. “Air!” Maya begged weakly, still feeling too frail to pull herself to her feet.

***


I’m pretty sure I was just insulted. Abby thought dryly, brow raised as Ryan continued to lament his lack of game. “Well with confidence like that, how are you not beating them off with sticks?” It was a glib remark, but it came out more cutting than she’d intended. Ryan wasn’t her friend exactly, but he was a decent enough sort when he wasn’t whining.

“Here.” Abby extended the bottle to Ryan’s hands. “You’re going to need some liquid courage if you plan on making a pass on Blake.” To say he didn’t have a shot in Tartarus was to state the obvious, but after watching both his drinks nabbed from under his nose, Abby was feeling generous.

“Pssht bit strong for you Grayson, you might hurt yourself! I figured wine coolers were more your speed.” From whatever hole Calden Archer crawled his way out of, Abby didn’t notice, but she wished he’d just leave them the fuck alone. Instead, he made a grab for the bottle, and Abby slapped his hand away. The look Cal shot back at her was murderous.

“You always have girls fight your battles for you Grayson?” He sneered Ryan’s way. “Your usual blonde bodyguard isn’t around, so you crawl behind another?” Cal took an intruding step forward, as if to emphasize the point, and Abby shoulder her way in front of Ryan.

“If your dick’s feeling especially small tonight Cal, I suggest you go pick on someone that you can actually get away with. Unless of course you want me to beat your face in publically…again.” Abby added with an extra dose of acid. Calden could be a real bully sometimes, which was enough to piss her off without throwing in his personal vendetta. Some people just can’t handle losing, and Abby had defended her undefeated record in the ring for three years straight. Calden had been her looming shadow of menace ever since, and it had begun to spill over to those she associated with.

Sensing the rising tension Lottie fretted beside them, her attention finally drawn away from her semi-famous sister. “Maybe we should all just take a beat…it’s a party!” Her laugh was as forced as the smile Lottie plastered across her face in an attempt to stop the fight before it really began.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maya Torres Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson Character Portrait: Vince Darling Character Portrait: Layla Athenes Character Portrait: Ace Michael Thatcher
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#054357, Interacting with: Vince Darling

As Layla looked around, she noticed someone approach her from the side. She turned to see the gentle giant, Vince Darling, looking oddly nervous. She smiled at him. She'd always been fond of Vince, or rather, fond might not be the appropriate term but she was a bit nervous about what it really was. They could very well be on the opposite side of the Games tomorrow,
Hey Layla. I'm glad to see you made it. C-Can I can get you something to drink?" He said and she blushed. She wished she hadn't, but the catch in his throat made her stomach do a little dance. "Sure," She said as she tugged on the hem of her dress, which seemed to be the thing that caught his attention. This was not her typical attire, she dressed practically, knowing they had physical training, as well as other academic studies, dressing in a dress or a skirt seemed a bit moot. Why get all dolled up if you're only going to sweat out your hair in PT, or stress sweat right through your pretty dress?
Now, however, seemed the appropriate time, and it seemed to work in a way her mother seemed to think it would.
"Do not fear the future, Little one, enjoy the present." Her mother whispered to her mind, startling her a bit. Layla swallowed. "Talk to him, Her mother urged and she looked up at the tall man. "So, Vince?" She began. "Are you enjoying yourself?" She asked, in a sad attempt to break the ice. She had no idea if he liked parties or not, she didn't, but her mother insisted, and one couldn't exactly disobey a Goddess, especially if said Goddess was her mother. It was at the moment that she could hear Abby giving Calden what for, and she shook her head. She is the child of Ares after all, such violence and anger was to be expected. Layla was never one to say she didn't like someone but Abby wasn't her favorite person in the world, she didn't appreciate Layla's attempts at assistance, called her a know it all, and things of that nature, while she does it for attention Layla does it to help. You can't win 'em all, she supposed. She turned her attention away from Abby and whatever that fight was about and noticed Maya having some sort of fit in the middle of the dance floor, She called out for someone as Layla stepped forward to help but she stopped herself this wasn't for her to do, she wasn't a child of Hermes, she had no natural abilities that could help with this, if anything she could talk to her about the fits, and what they might mean but that wasn't it, for now, she swallowed. Her gift was what caused her to be slightly distracted now, she could see everyone's problems, but her gift of gab wasn't going to stop a fight, not with Abby anyway, nor would it help Maya, especially now that the fight was over. "You hear the world's suffering, Little One, it is hard but drown it out, for now, enjoy your night, you've gentleman caller waiting on you now." her mother advised and inwardly nodded and turned her attention back to Vince.

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Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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"You know that feeling you get when shit is about to go down? You know, that weird almost nauseous feeling in your stomach? Your hands get all clammy and suddenly there is that slight itch to the back of your throat?... Just me? I call it my 'Ryan Sense', you know, like Spider-Man only not as cool or useful. Story of my life, really."


"What? Insulted? Please, as if I were brave enough to insult you," Ryan said offering up a dopey half-smile and a non-committal shrug. It was rather true, there were four groups of people in his world: Women, to be flirted with constantly, Men, to befriend, Friends, to hangout with and Enemies, to flee in terror from. Abby was an existence that was outside of those four groups and he wasn't sure what to call her, and he never let himself really think about her or any feelings regarding her enough to try and sort it out. The status quo worked well enough for what it was and it was better to not poke the angry bear that was Abby... even if it could be fun.

"Hey, I'll have you know I just can't find a big enough stick..." Ryan said then paused as he realized that sounded like his own 'stick' was rather underwhelming, "Wait that didn't come out right," he said as his mind worked to untangle the slip on the tongue, "I mean, you know, I have a big enough stick just I can't.. you know.. something... with the.. thing," Ryan said, his hand opening and closing in front of his mouth trying to draw out the sentence that would make it all make sense... somehow, but was saved when the bottle of amber liquid was thrust at him.

Ryan stared at it for a few moments, his eyes blinked in surprise a few times before his hand instinctively wrapped around the bottle. Abby was being nice? To him? Sure she was never mean, but never nice either. Sure the remark about Blake stung but it wasn't inaccurate and compared to what her sharp tongue could have said, it was just a wrist slap. "I..." Ryan began as his shocked mind tried to catch up with his mouth, it was oddly touching and he had no idea what to do. Part of him wanted to thank her, another part wanted to ask if she was dying and trying to earn some points with the big man, or people, upstairs before she kicked the bucket.

Luckily, he was saved from himself when someone else showed up to the 'party' and Ryan perked up immediately, "Oh! Wine coolers! I like the grape ones, orange is meh, did you bring some?" Ryan paused in the middle of his ramble, "Right, insult. I'm not manly. Gotcha. Clever. You're an asshole. Up to speed. Carry on."

Calden was so quick that Ryan didn't notice his hand shoot for him until Abby slapped it down. It took his mind a few moments to process that as well and he was starting to feel rather stupid now. The look he sent Abby was damn near enough to make Ryan dive behind the counter and start crying for batman Lux, seriously, where was the hero when the sidekick was in trouble? There was a reason sidekicks tended to not get their own comics. Oh, shit, he had better not be a Jason Todd.

He didn't mind being insulted, but a slight to Lux was another matter. Ryan lifted his finger to make a rather cutting, well he thought so, comment when Calden stepped closer, and Ryan also took a step back already prepared to preform Operation: CryLikeABitchTillLuxComes as he dived behind the bar but Abby blocked him off... again. Was... Was she really dying or something?

"Yeah! What she said!" Ryan said from over Abby's head suddenly feeling way more confident now that the murdermachine that was Abby was in front of him, beat the hell out of a bar, and seemed more then willing to throw down with the over sized roided out gorilla.

Lottie tried to do what Lottie do and calm them down, but Ryan wasn't sure that was going to work. Pride tended to make roided out gorillas dumber then usual which should be impossible but when there was a will there was a way.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sebastian Rhodes Character Portrait: Maya Torres Character Portrait: Joaquin Wolf Character Portrait: Abby Rae Jarvis Character Portrait: Lux Slade Character Portrait: Ryan Grayson
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Hades // Brain // Outfit // Hex #262f26
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Apollo // Special // Outfit // Hex #21b794
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Ares // Brawn // Outfit// Hex #FF0000


Wesley Tate was not a man who smiled often, at least not with genuinely gentle intent. His smiles were a mask, meant to tightly conceal any true emotion, or highly calculated to elicit the correct response from those around him. Wes was not a sloppy person, and unchecked displays of emotion were just that. Watching Lux lip sync in his arms though, alive, and unabashed, and completely open was like a siren’s call that Wes couldn’t ignore. Hers was a kind of beauty he found hard to define, which was yet another thing about Lux that left Wes feeling like he was wading through uncharted territory. What he was sure of however, was that he didn’t want this song to end. In that moment, with her arms around his shoulders, Wes felt his lips turn up ever so slightly, lids lowered into something soft and unguarded. And then Seb arrived.

At first, Wes was too stunned with disbelief to react. Besides the fact that his best friend had just stepped on his toes romantically, (a cardinal sin between two friends who’d chased as much tail as they had) riling up a teammate like that the night before the Agon was deeply stupid. Seb was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. Why he was trying to sabotage their team now, Wes wasn’t sure, but it needed to fucking stop. Before he had time to mitigate any of the damage however, Seb hurled one final insult, and Lux stormed off toward the lake. Wes moved to go after her, but was intercepted be Seb before he made it more than two steps. What his friend had to say did little to stop the churning anger in his gut that Wes was doing his best to keep a lid on.

He and Seb had always been different, though complimentary. He knew who Seb was, the peacock nature, chameleon sensibilities, and Wes had never faulted him for that. In this moment however, listening to him lord a sense of supposed superiority over Lux by reason of mere circumstance of birth, Wes felt nothing bust distaste for how…shallow Seb sounded. Wes did believe in a pecking order of superiority. Some people were born with talent, grit, or an indomitable will that helped them claw their way to the top. He’d built their team from those very values, but the idea that being born to excess was somehow the deciding factor was ridiculous to Wes.

“I have too much respect for both your prides to think an apology would undo any of the damage you just did, but I had better never hear you call her that word again.” Wes didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t need to with Seb. They’d known each other long enough to recognize when the other was deathly serious.

“Who I dance with is my business, regardless of the quantity.” Gently, he extracted his arm from the brunette half of Seb’s entourage, and rejecting the drink as well with a swift kiss to her hand. ”I’m afraid I have a prior engagement this evening my dear, but I leave you in most capable hands.” The words were for the girl, but his eyes didn’t break contact with Seb’s until he turned and walked toward the lake.

Lux was clearly agitated when Wes finally caught sight of her again, and he slowed his approach with deliberately heavy footfalls so that she would hear him coming. Besides the fact that it was profoundly stupid to sneak up on a warrior of Lux’s skill, Wes understood the link between pride and composure. If Lux didn’t want him to see something, she’d have time to put her game face on before he got to her. What exactly he was going to say, Wes wasn’t sure. He hated not having a plan of attack, but he was beginning to grow used to this general lack of footing where she was concerned. “Seb’s an ass.” He began simply, more statement of truth than apology. Seb had a mean streak that was a marvelous tool in their defense, but was rough to be on the receiving end of. Lux knew who she was getting into bed with when she signed on to this team, but as the team’s all but official leader, it was his job to make sure she was okay. That was most certainly the only reason he’d come…he was almost convinced of that. “I doubt he’ll stop being an ass where you’re concerned. I wouldn’t have recruited you on this team though, if I thought you were trash…and I definitely wouldn’t have let you name it.” Wes finished with the ghost of old disgruntlement. He had no idea if those words were the right ones to comfort her or not, Wes was rarely sure of anything where Lux was concerned, but it was the best he had for the moment.

***


As dazed as she was, Maya wasn’t sure just when Joaquin showed up, but she was grateful for his presence none the less as he and Ace helped haul her off the dance floor. The cool night air was both soothing and overwhelming, as suddenly a coconut bra and island girl get up felt far too inadequate to fight off the chill. “Thanks.” Maya bit out, taking the water Joaquin offered and took small sips. As much as she’d like to gulp the whole thing down, Maya knew better, and really didn’t feel like puking it back up on somebody’s shoes.

”I’m not sure.” Maya answered honestly after a moment. Her visions were rarely clear cut, usually more visual metaphor than anything concrete. Some things in them were fixed, events already set in motion, but there were always variables at play. A kaleidoscope of possibilities to be parsed through made an interpreter of the vision more important as the vision itself. It didn’t help that accurate readers were rare, and a misinterpreted vision could often do more harm than good. While Maya was considered somewhat gifted in this area, the pressure to produce good intel felt crushing.

It wasn’t until Ace slipped his hand in hers that Maya felt she could breathe again, and she squeezed back while taking comfort in his reassuring warmth. “It’s dangerous to speculate, but there was a lot of blood…and my father was involved.” Those details alone were concerning, but they didn’t tell them anything conclusive. An obvious conclusion, was that it was a warning of death, likely for herself or one of her siblings, but that was a rabbit hole Maya knew better than to jump down. If she was fated to die tomorrow, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Greek literature was littered with the tragedies of those who tried to defy the fates, and the results were never good. Floating that particular suspicion would only upset her team mates, and none of them could afford to be distracted tomorrow.

“It looked like some kind of temple, stone, tight quarters, nothing to identify it though from the inside.” Maya listed off pertinent details as clinically as possible, trying to distance herself from the gore she’d seen.

***


Abby could practically see Calden’s eye twitch as Ryan chimed in, and any hope Lottie had of deescalating the situation died as Cal began cracking his knuckles. It was a bit of a tell really, a habit Abby had picked up on from their matches in class. The son of Zeus wasn’t looking to pull any punches tonight, which was bad news for Abby since he outclassed her when it came to pure physical strength. Not by much granted, but enough to be a mark in his favor. Luckily, Abby edged him out in the speed department, and despite her close proximity to a perfectly good bottle of whiskey, she remained annoyingly sober. Going by smell, Cal was not.

“You know, I was going to wait until tomorrow to do this, but fuck it! Why wait?!” Cal’s grin was all teeth, as he lunged forward fist first. Abby barely had time to push Ryan to the side and out of the line of fire, but it was a good thing she had since the impact of the hit to her middle sent her sliding back a good five feet, dirt tracks in the grass carved out in her wake. If she hadn’t been a child of Ares, Abby was pretty sure she’d have some broken ribs. As it was, she was probably going to have a seriously nasty bruise, and she coughed doubled over while trying to regain her breath. If there was blood in the spittle she spat out, Abby ignored it.

“I’m gonna grind you down to where you belong, under my boot! Maybe I’ll even let you up once you lick it clean!” Cal didn’t let up, trying to follow up with a knee aimed toward her face, but Abby dodged to the left at the last second and let his own momentum carry him forward and off balance. His guard down, Abby pivoted before driving her foot up and into his gut like she was punting a football. If her opponent had been mortal, that would have been game over, but it only winded Cal. Seizing upon the momentary advantage, Abby connected a quick upper cut to his face, (Cal would definitely be sporting a nice shiner tomorrow morning.) then latched hold of his arm and launched him toward the bar. Luckily everyone had scattered pretty quickly, as Cal crashed into it with enough force to leave it a virtual pile of rubble.

“Stick to grunting asshole, your smack talk sucks.” Abby ground out as she straitened back up. A fighter of Cal’s caliber wouldn’t be down for long, and she shifted into a guard stance as she waited for the next onslaught that would inevitably come. Sure enough, Cal began digging himself out of the rubble, and launched himself at her again.

“ENOUGH!” A crisp British voice boomed out, and suddenly Cal was suspended in mid-air, surrounded by some kind of crimson essence. It might have been funny, watching him dangled motionless like that spewing profanity, except Abby couldn’t move either. That realization was like a bucket of ice water being dropped on her, Abby’s muscles tensing painfully as she struggled to hang on to any semblance of reason.

“Cool it you two, save it for tomorrow!” A much more feminine voice chimed in. Whatever Abby had expected to end this fight, it wasn’t the sudden appearance of Mr. Holden and Miss McKinney walking through some kind of portal.

“Honestly, you two couldn’t leave each other be for one evening?” Mr. Holden’s tone of voice was aggrieved, but there was an intensity to his gaze that Abby found unsettling. She wanted to hit him, jerk away, gain some distance, anything but stay frozen here like some kind of rag doll. Everyone’s intentions felt sinister to Abby when she was restrained. “Very disappointing.”

“Merrick…” Miss McKinney warned with a quick glance at Abby. As the school counselor, June knew better than most that this was the wrong form of punishment for that particular student.

“Right…yes of course.” Mr. Holden agreed languidly walking forward, and with a lingering pat to her head, the red essence reseeded from Abby. Instinctively, she shot back, needing space to collect herself. Cal was also released, hitting the ground with an unceremonious “oomph”, before Miss McKinney pulled him up. “I think you’ve had enough for one evening.” She drawled with a frown. Cal still looked pissed, and he’d be a pain to deal with tomorrow, but he knew better to try anything now that teachers were involved. So instead, he stalked off toward the dorms with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Campus patrol is sweeping by in an hour, I suggest you all aren’t here when they arrive.” Mr. Holden announced like a question, once again their jovial, if eccentric, Arcane studies teacher.