[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=F5BCC9]Desdemona Pemberton[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/8FJsUlhnBf5OvF0NBM/giphy.gif[/img][hr][b][color=F5BCC9]Location:[/color][/b] Camp Half-Blood[hr][hr][/center]

It was as if someone had seen into her mind and picked out the possibly worst things imaginable to her and laid them out for her to see. Not only was she in a summer camp, now forced to participate in such things like campouts and capture the flag, but now her half-siblings were talking incessantly about fashion and shopping and blah blah blah! She could pounce on any number of them. Who cared what designer you wore? You were at camp!

Theresa seemed nice enough, but she didn't want to be bothered much. If she had to be here, she would be an active non-participant when applicable. Before she could say though, Theresa mentioned an armory. That piqued her interest. She remembered that being called meant you got shit. [color=F5BCC9]"Yes, I'd like to go to the armory and see what there is."[/color] Who knows? Even though her mother was the goddess of fashion week, perhaps she had cool shit to offer.