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    1. Matryoshka 10 yrs ago

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Jeez, I've been really bad with posting in this rp. I'm not quite sure where to send Nick, since he's all alone in Cabin Nine. Anyone want him to come pester them?
Heidi felt her hair stand up on end and her stomach churn as her axe met its mark, its sharp head biting into flesh and what felt like bone. She felt terribly for the poor thing, daemon or no daemon. She felt herself staring into its eyes as she yanked the ax back out, trying to find something -- anything -- behind those soulless eyes. And then, quite suddenly, she did. A piercing scream tore through the air, and it seemed to tear away and ultimately dissolve whatever terribleness and ferocity the beast had put up to protect itself, and suddenly those eyes were sad and all too human. Heidi felt herself staring long and hard into those eyes for a split second, feeling her own soul seem to ache along with it. It was almost as if something inside of her was pushing out, threatening to explode. And then she realized it wasn't her soul, it was her head. Her head hurt like hell, and the world spun around her.

Flashes of something sparked and fizzled before her eyes, coming into and out of existence in small snatches. A young man, trapped in an endless void, letting out an agonized wail as the fog of broiling hot steam around him boiled the flesh right off his bones. A moment passed and she too felt the steam on her skin, warm and pleasant at first but then growing hotter and hotter until it was searing her shoulder. Heidi let out a gasp and dropped her axe, grasping at her shoulder. Her hand met Bannik, still perched on her shoulder, who was swathed in clouds of steam hotter than anything she had ever felt him emit before. He was burning her! Not even thinking, she batted him off of her shoulder and grasped her now blistering shoulder, as the daemon had burned straight through her jacket and her t-shirt and deep into her skin. She glared down at Bannik through her blurry, teary vision and let out a gasping cry when she saw he wasn't moving. She reached down to pick him up but recoiled when a puff of steam seared her fingers.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Whatever had caused the hound to go into this state had definitely affected the weaker Bannik as well, sending him into what appeared to be a near catatonic state. Evidently, Bannik's intervention with her tumors had instilled something daemonic in her as well, and that scream had some effect on her as well. Bannik was the only thing keeping her alive, and without him, who knows how quickly her tumors would start growing again? She whirled around and struggled to keep her balance, and squinted, searching the swimming world around her for the perpetrator of her misery. Her head seared with the pain of every emergency surgery, of an agony that had no remedy. Unable to stand for the pain, she fell to her knees.

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop make it stop make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitSTOP.

Through sheer willpower she grasped her axe and stood, teetering dangerously on her feet. Somehow, her cloudy eyes found those of the daemon Set's. With tears streaming down her face and an agonized scream erupting from her lips, she bull-rushed the thing and completely passed by the hound, her ax held high over her head.
Morning! Sorry about the absence on my part, guys. Just moved back to uni and things are still a bit hectic. I'll do my best to get something posted later today!

EDIT: Alrighty, let's make things interesting, shall we?
Vicier said
I'm okay, my car is... she'll be fine, she's drivable that's all that matters


Oh no! I'm so sorry to hear about your accident, but it's good to hear that you're okay.
Marx said
I think Vicier might prefer it if we wait until he/she/it can start up the next round of posting and give the hounds a chance to react to the situations they're in. Plus, if we make any more posts before the hound has a chance to respond, the thing will have taken enough abuse to keel over.


That's what I thought.
Fell said
I'm so sorry the correct answer was B, Dennys.


The best answer, honestly.

To post again or not to post again: that is question.
As much as Nikolas had grown to love his new home in Camp Half-Blood, he couldn't stand how he was late to pretty much everything. No matter how early he left, be it minutes or even hours, something always managed to get in his way. A year ago he would have attributed it to bad luck or chance, but after learning the truth about his father and who he really was through his year at Camp Half-Blood, it was clear that the cards were constantly stacked against him just for bearing the blood of Hephaestus. It was fairly obvious that the gods were rather fickle and even petty beings, who did not hesitate to blame the son for the sins of the father. It wouldn't surprise him if the inconveniences and problems that constantly plagued him had been conjured by the gods themselves: just desserts, he supposed, for being the unwanted spawn of a hated, brilliant cripple.

But oh, no, Nick wasn't going to be late this time. He wouldn't let the gods bully him today. With a sly grin, he slammed a fist onto the button of the new elevator he had just installed and let out a hearty laugh when the gears began to spin and the pulleys and cranks began to do their magic. Building an elevator was a sorely needed necessity for the crippled son of Hephaestus, as it allowed him to access the main floor from the basement easily and effortlessly, and most importantly of all, allowed skip the exhausting and incredibly humiliating chore of scooting up an entire filthy metal spiral staircase on his ass. Nick watched as the elevator platform descended-- and jolted to a halt nearly three feet above the floor, much too high for him to climb up on from his wheelchair. Confused, Nick punched the button again, which only caused the elevator to start its ascent. Another push of the button caused it to stop three feet above the ground once more. Incredibly frustrated by the machine's malfunction, Nick rapidly rammed the side of his fist onto the button, as if pressing it harder and faster would result in it actually working. Instead, the elevator creaked and let out a low, ominous moan-- and then suddenly crashed to the ground with a deafening boom.

After the dust and debris had settled, Nick let out a sigh. The wrath of the gods still dogged him at every turn, it seemed. Well, looks like he wasn't going to taking his nifty new elevator today... or anytime soon, judging by the smoking pile of wreckage before his feet. And so, leaving that problem for another day, he wheeled himself over to the staircase and plopped out of his chair and spun himself about on the ground, letting his back face the stairs. He left his wheelchair and began scooting up the stairs with a painful slowness, pushing himself up backwards step by step by step until after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the top. Once there, another wheelchair waited with his trusty crossbow Loyalty strapped to the side. After taking a short breather he pulled himself into his low-backed wheelchair and unlocked the wheels. Giving the wheels an experimental turn, he thanked the gods no one had messed with his second wheelchair while he had been working in the basemnt for days straight on that blasted elevator.

"Well," he said to himself brightly as he steered his way through the veritable minefield that was the messy main floor of Cabin Nine, "Let's see how Erin's doing with the newbies, shall we?" He pulled open the door and after taking a moment to enjoy the sunlight, used all his upper body strength to shoot himself forward and fly over the steps leading into the cabin. He got a second or two of airtime before landing and skidding on the ground, the wheels beneath him creaking dangerously from the impact. Nick was suddenly grateful he had taken the time to reinforce the thing. using the built-up speed from exiting the cabin, he wheeled himself over to the crowd of newbies just in time to see the most bizarre display.

Apparently someone had trash-talked Cabin Thirteen or something of the like, as Erin seemed to be threatening to probably throw some loudmouth newblood into Tartarus while Thane was making a full display of his power to a group of gawking newbloods. He wasn't surprised by Erin's display of rage, but it was a rare thing to see Thane so peeved that he'd use that funky arm of his. Nick skidded to a stop a short distance off, not wanting to tangle himself in whatever awful mess that was. No one really liked the so-called 'Hephaestus hotheads', and he wasn't too eager to make anyone any angrier by reminding them of his existence. After Thane had stormed back inside and Erin finally released the newbie, Nick swallowed his growing nervousness and wheeled himself around the group of newbies-- and almost crashed straight into Syleste of Cabin Fifteen.

"Oh, jeez. Sorry Syleste. Didn't see you there." He carefully made his way around Syleste and approached Erin. "Hey, Erin, sorry I'm late to the party. We get any new Hephaestus kids?"
Hey guys, sorry about not posting yet, life's been crazy. Writing up a post right now, though.

But I do have a question. Nick's the only Hephaestus kid right now and since he's already been here a year, can I just make him the Cabin 9 counselor?
This sounds great. Count me in.
Time seemed to slow as the hellhound charged between her and the priest, and Heidi felt her body lock up entirely. Her mind told her she was dreaming and none of this could be real, and another part of it screamed at her to run. No matter what she tried to do, however, her frozen body refused to comply. She felt an overall sense of utter hopelessness and helplessness as she stared at the creature, all confidence and excitement seeming to begin to drain from her the longer she looked at it. When it finally turned it's hellish red gaze towards her, she felt time almost stop around her. Any thoughts of fighting instantaneously vanished were overwhelmed and smothered by the overpowering size and stench of the thing. The rancid odor of burning corpses and blood flooded her nostrils and threatened to bring up what little breakfast she had managed to eat that morning. Her mind told her to run, to run as fast as she possibly could, but her feet were rooted into place.

She stared down the beast, her mind grasping at any hope for survival. She thought back to when she had hunted wolves over the Finnish-Russian border near Murmansk, and how she had brought down a huge black alpha with her hunting rifle. But she didn't have a rifle with her now, and she wasn't nestled safely on a cliff a hundred yards away. And this wasn't just any old wolf. She was staring down a hound from the depths of hell, and it was napping and snarling in her face. Its breath was hot on her face, and it stank of... herbal bath oils?

The bucket! Heidi had a chance yet. She adjusted her grip on her bucket and suddenly threw it out in front of her, sending a hissing spray of boiling water and hot steam straight at the beast's face. She knew nothing of hellhounds, if they were resistant to heat or if water weakened them, but she knew at least the thick, sweet aroma of the oils would confuse the beast's nose. After it was free, she took her axe into her dominant right and after bringing it far back in a powerful backswing, sent it hurtling towards the beast's left shoulder.
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