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[center][color=silver][h1]Simon Riddle[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][color=silver][h2]Camp Half-Blood ~ The Cabins[/h2][/color][/center]

Simon couldn't deny the distinct warmth he felt inside upon Syleste thanking him...had it been that long? Since someone had...thanked him? It felt so alien to him, so foreign. Simon knew that the reasoning lied in his very nature. How could someone feel gratitude towards a snake? 

He simply nodded, a rather awkward look on his face as if he were trying to respond. "Yes...of course." He said in a peculiar tone, his body tensing reflexively as Syleste drew closer to him. Whatever...this was. It was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. 

"Well, it wouldn't be sporting not to attend these gatherings ever once in awhile. It's best not to be labeled the workaholic in these types of situations." Simon responded nonchalantly, as if he was speaking to a student or coworker as opposed to a friend. 

Making his way across the field that led to the other side, to Hephaestus Cabin, Simon was able to hear the music and smell the booze from a distance, shaking his head with a small scoff. Long as there's deafening noise and enough alcohol to knock out a Cyclops - the campers will come. People...so utterly [i]predictable[/i], It was simply boring. As unique and complex as humanity was capable of being, they still followed the same rudimentary routines and habits, falling into the same simple patterns. Even he was not immune to the call of habit. 

Remaining silent, Simon simply led Syleste in the way of the party, leaning heavily on his cane while her counterweight gave him an especially awkward gait. Whatever this was, this...contact. He didn't like it - not at all. 
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[center][h1][color=slategray]Hawley Griffin[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][h2][color=slategray]Camp Half Blood ~ The Lake ~ The Party[/color][/h2][/center]

Griffin must've missed the memo citing him as Camper of the day. Seemed like everyone and their mother was trying to stop and hold conversation with him. Can't a man drink in peace?!

Nevertheless, Jericho's presence at least brought Grif [i]some[/i] level of enjoyment. Though the Irishman initially disliked the indirect son of Artemis, time eased their relationship into something less volatile. 

"A present, eh? Lucky day!" Griffin replied with a simple wave of his cup, a small grin plastering itself on his face, even if he didn't feel much in the mood to grin. 

"Aye, you know Camp. Each day without a trip to the infirmary is a small victory." Griffin replied with a chortle, eyeing a few of the Ares kids not too far off. "Bet you five there'll be a fight before the party's over." He noted most amusingly. 

"But, I digress. If you've got a present, lay it on me! I ain't getting younger!" As impatiently arrogant as his words may be, Grif's tone and expression were nothing less than light and playful. Knowing Jericho, any gift he had for Griffin would be practical -- and probably dangerous. And the son of Hermes couldn't wait.