[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XEdWUsd.jpg[/img]
[h2][color=6ecff6]Dallas Relo[/color][/h2]
[@Altered Tundra][/center]

Dallas looked down at Viv with wide, reproachful eyes as though she were some bubbly alien contaminant, though the hug he gave her was full of more warmth and affection than he would ever cop to in front of people. He even tousled her hair back into place before they parted again; Dallas' faux-repulsed look gave way to his sunny grin again.

[color=6ecff6]"Yeah, believe it or not, me too. I mean, for fuck's sake, this place has actually kind of ruined me, you know? Before I came here, I was perfectly happy to be an ephemeral waste of life. Flitting through my share of parties and drink, jail cells and hospital beds, men and women, until I finally burned out at an early age. But you know what?"[/color]

Dallas heard Vivian sigh and his smile grew wider. She liked to sigh when her brother started to talk, and like him, once she started she would never tone it down. The unspoken admission that she liked hearing him talk just as much as he liked to...well, talk, was never acknowledged between them. Dallas shutting up meant he was upset about something serious, and Viv wouldn't [i]have[/i] to pretend to hate that mood swing. So he let her carry on with the illusion that he was under her skin as he chattered.

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[color=9e0b0f][h2]Dana Harada[/h2][/color]
[@Write] [@Krayzikk] [@HereComesTheSnow] (Mentioned: [@Dirty Pretty Lies])[/center]

[color=9e0b0f]"What the."[/color]

Dana Harada, wide-eyed and stricken, watched as her older brother patted another person's head before her own. It was tantamount to a blade in her vulnerable heart, an offense that would have been worthy of four fingers if her brother had the mental strength to live by the honorable creeds of man. Instead, it seemed he preferred to dole out his affections like a savage, bestial and baseborn, instinctively touching anyone he saw as a form of greeting as if it was no big deal. He even touched Rebekah first; they were exchanging blows playfully.

Playfully.

[color=9e0b0f][i]What a fucker.[/i][/color]

She decided to give him a pass on the grounds that he probably had no other friends to contact over the past few months. The same could probably be said for most of them, except maybe Dallas. But genuine friendship seemed to be something that the son of the sun had no real interest in. Talking to people, forging connections with them that were purely skin deep, was one of Dallas' many talents. Making friends was probably harder. She doubted that he had much experience with it. The same could be said for a lot of people here, honestly. Almost as an afterthought, her gaze drifted over to another group of demigods, where Ariana had drifted out as quickly as she'd made her entrance. She would probably have to say hi at some point or another.

She would also probably wait to say hi until Ariana invited her out shopping sometime. No point in going out of her way until then. Not when she would need every ounce of effort to get her big brother into side control and choke his useless life from his throat. 

The next thing she knew, he would be left unattended long enough to start wrapping arms around people. It would not do. She drifted around from behind his back and bowed her head, awaiting twice the fraternal affections she would have demanded in the first place. It would--

[color=6ecff6][sub]"-blah blah blah blah blah blah fuck blah blah blah"[/sub][/color]

[color=9e0b0f][i]Oh shit. Hi Dal-kun.[/i][/color]

Like a hurricane or a plane crash, Dallas Relo was a force of nature that was easy to hear, but hard to plan for. It was also impossible to bargain your way out of facing it. He had a pretty voice, but it would probably kill him to stop using it. It was just talk talk talk talk talk, nonstop, and he was already proving no exception as he walked back over to the group with his sister.

[color=6ecff6]"--But you know what?"[/color] he was saying to Vivian, wrapping an arm around her own shoulders and directing his attention away from the group back down to her. [color=6ecff6]"This place has kind of changed my life. Not in the 'here are your powers, adapt and prove yourself worthy of your godly mantles' kind of way. But I mean, I can't interact with people the same way anymore! I've spent four years bottled up with a bunch of shallow, pretty, useless people with superpowers. At the end of every year they make me go home for a few months, and everyone who I hang out with is shallow, pretty, useless...and [i]not[/i] superpowered. It's like going from the Justice League to the fucking Daily Planet. Or, fuck, I dunno, Death Row to Aftermath. People outside are [i]boring.[/i] I almost texted you to see if I could crash at your little pot smoker's day camp with you and your mom, but -- [i]heyo, bitches![/i]"[/color]

He had reached the rest of his friends, and once they were within his personal space bubble, each of his movements seemed to flow into the next. He glided between all of them; he squeezed Dana on the shoulder; Rebekah got a playful, loosely balled up fist to the stomach; Rhea was lifted up off of her feet in a hug even more spirited than the one Vivian had given him, with a low but cheerful [color=6ecff6][sub]"Heya, kid"[/sub][/color]; and for the first time since the thirty-two demigods were assembled together, he stopped moving. He was standing in front of Marcella Bonaparte.

He reached up and promptly fucked up her hair with his practiced fingers, the same way he had desolated his sister's. 

[color=6ecff6]"What's up, Marcy?"[/color]