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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by PatientBean
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PatientBean Hi, I'm Barbie. What's up?

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#de9b8f ....|..... outfit .....|..... chariselle's cabin -> party

Sometimes fashion was preparing for war.

In her experience, an outfit could make or break what she needed it to. An invitation to a party? Getting in to a nightclub with a 3 year waitlist? Chariselle knew that if she put something together it would open doors. Sure, she could hack it by using her powers, but sometimes it was just easier to let the basic human instinct take over.

She knew this would be different. She knew she was amongst others like her. And while she was confident she could win over the hearts and minds of everyone, it was better to be equipped. A warrior didn't go into battle without armor, after all. Chariselle stood in her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Her outfit for the party hung on a hook by the door. A dress she specifically asked for, tailor-made to give her figure every ounce of highlight, shimmering without the need for light. While she had plans, grand plans at that, tonight was merely step one. She wanted to make a good impression, perhaps even find some allies. If nothing else, at least a warm body to bring back home before the night was over.

Chariselle flopped back on her bed, letting the soft threads mesh on her skin. She took a moment, only a moment, to let out the breath she had been holding since she set foot off the plane. She was in her own space so she allowed this moment of weakness. Her mind raced to her mother, the ever-not-present being whom she dedicated most of her life finding and vying to impress. What would she say to all of this? Would she be proud of who Chariselle turned out to be? Crafted to make the most of the gifts bestowed upon her? Chariselle felt goosebumps across her arms like the temperature dropped suddenly despite the heat in her cabin. She shut her eyes. Some part of her loved the thrill, the chase, the game. But at times, few moments stretched out in front of her, where she hoped for anything but.

The moment passed as it so often did. She quickly got up and turned back to the mirror. A look of determination drew across the reflections face as if to say 'you got this'. With a nod, Chariselle made her way into her bathroom, hew full glam on the counter as she got ready. Hair perfectly flowing down with hints of glitter speckled throughout. Shimmer on her eyelids and cheeks, an ever present kiss of strawberry champagne on her lips. Once satisfied she took the dress and put it on. She strepped on her heels and checked the mirror again. Satisfaction warmed her back up again. Battle-ready, she headed out the front door, into the cold night.




Well, she assumed it would be a cold night. As it turned out, despite the snow that contiued to fall, it felt perfectly fine outside. Chariselle was a bit surprised and then remembered she was amongst her kind, of course someone would be able to control the weather. Chariselle was left alone with her thoughts, a dangerous combination, so she took the time to admire the camp itself. She expected it to be catered to the literal children of gods and, thus far, everything seemed just so. Chariselle wondered if elsewhere in the world there were people enjoying the New Year like they were. Sheltered in their bubble. A pleasant bubble, to be sure, but one all the same.

Chariselle walked along the path that led to the party proper. Whoever had designed all of it (it was probably that one woman Sylas mentioned, Andy or something). Chariselle had to admit it looked nice. Everything one would need for a New Year's party complete with a countdown clock, food, and drinks ever flowing.

Chariselle made her way straight to the booze and procured herself a glass of something bubbly before she turned to face the rest. A few others were there, noticeably. She lifted her glass to them in passing but her senses were still on. A figure she had glance at briefly before caught her attention at the....what was it called?....the beanback throwing game she saw at many bars where some liqoured-up, horndog, college-frat type always made a beeline toward to show off before inevitably tripping over his own feet.

The man himself was certainly not a frat guy. His vibes along sent her in a meditative state. He was someone to get-to-know. She made her way over allowing him to take her in before she fully approached. "I'll admit, I've seen this game many a time but never played it myself. You mind if I join you?" Chariselle got the sense there was someone else there, but her focus was on the man in front of her. It was as if the edges of her vision blurred and anything else not in her line of sight was a foggy, ethereal figure. Chariselle asked for invitation but body language all but read that she invited herself. "I'm Chariselle, nice to meet you." Her eyes quickly scanned his frame, taking it in as if downloading all the things she needed into the motherboard that was her brain. "So how does one play this? I imagine alcohol will only make this more fun."


interactions ....|.... Elysium ............... mentions ....|.... Andy, Sylas, Evenlyn (Kind of)



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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Pristine1281
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Pristine1281 Long-time Roleplayer

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#808000 ~ Outfit ~ Party



Heath got some more writing. He hoped his family was doing okay. He did miss the family get-togethers and New Years was almost always a big one. His aunts loved throwing parties. He and his dad didn't always go, but they tried, especially when Iliana moved in. Often it became one huge sleepover. It was the one night of the year he got to stay up late, but he never made it to midnight until his teen years. Much like him, Iliana wasn't much of a party person either, but she was shy too. Now, there were a few times when the New Year parties didn't happen and that was when there was a blizzard. Scottish winters could get a lot colder than here in Greece. Todays temperature had been a perfect example of that.

At some point, Heath took a break to get lunch. He decided to heat up some leftover stew he made the other day and have a cup of coffee with it. Finishing it, he headed outside to see if Andy started on getting things for the party tonight. Sure enough she was and it looked like Trinity was helping her. Watching them a bit, he decided they didn't need his help at the moment. Deciding to contribute something to the party, Heath went back inside. If he timed it right, he might be able to get his idea done and get ready in time to pick up Iliana. Lucky for him, he did have the ingredients needed to make shortbread. His aunts taught him how to cook.

His Aunt Brigid once said, "You may be a lad and a demigod, but that's no excuse to not take care of yourself. You still have to eat."

He took that to heart and found himself enjoying the lessons since he loved learning new things, no matter the subject, along as it was an appropriate subject. Making the shortbread wasn't too long. It took him about an hour to make. After putting the goods in a Tupperware container so they would stay fresh, he looked at the time and saw he had just enough time to work out, take a shower, and get ready for the party. And he did just that. Before taking a shower though, he went outside to see how cold it was. He was shocked to feel how warm it was, but it was still snowing. He knew it was going to bug him for the rest of the evening but decided to push that thought to the back of his mind for now.

After taking a quick shower, he finished getting ready for the party. He always prioritized comfort and his clothes reflected that, even when going to a party. Despite being ready a bit early, he really didn't mind since he wanted to make sure Iliana was ready. Taking the Tupperware with the shortbread in it, he walked over to his sister's cabin and knocked.





#4a766e ~ Outfit, minus the boots ~ Party



After returning to her cabin, Iliana did some reading. She was trying to learn more herbology, so most of the books she had were on that or gardening. She kept at it until her stomach growled. Figuring she better eat; she got up and went to get some lunch. Exiting it, she saw Andy conjuring things up for the party. She was always in awe of her abilities and looked at the pendant she wore. While it was her mother's idea to make the pendant, Hecate had been the one to do the bulk of the work with Hephaestus assisting with the metal work. Now if only she could be as good with her abilities as Andy was with hers. Getting lunch, she decided she would watch Andy work for a bit before getting back to her own work. Taking chair outside, Iliana watched for about an hour before going back and dressing up in her garden gear. Heading into her green house, she made sure to set a timer in there, so she'd have time to get ready for the party. And she needed it. She had been planting new seeds into her herb area and had just finished watering them when the alarm went off. Exiting the green house, she wasn't expecting the warm weather. And yet, it was still snowing. Well, maybe the gods were giving them a break.

Going inside, she took a shower and got ready. She could never wear anything flashy, but she wanted to look nice. Originally, she was going to wear pants, but she wanted to wear a dress. After putting on her undergarments, which include pantyhose, she put on the dress and a part of short boots. She French breaded her hair to the nap of her neck and put a scrunchie in it. That's when she heard a knock at the door. More likely it was Heath. Exiting her bedroom, she went to the front door and opened it. Sure enough, it was Heath, and he was caring Tupperware.

"Hi, did you bake something for party?"

"Yes, it's shortbread. You ready to go?"

Iliana's mouth couldn't help but water. Heath knew shortbread was a favorite of hers. She may not cook, but she had watched her aunts make it before. Heath saw his sister's reaction to the shortbread and was happy.

"You still there, Lia?" he asked chuckling.

Iliana snapped out of it and blushed.

"Yes, I am ready,"

Exiting her cabin, the siblings head towards the party. Arriving they saw a few had arrived. Iliana wanted to greet Andy and Trinity first and started heading in their direction. Heath headed for the table with the snacks and opened the lid of the Tupperware, placed it on the bottom, and left the container. He nodded to Duke before joining his sister in greeting Andy and Trinity.

"Evening, Andy and Trinity. I hope you both have recovered fully. Andy, you did an amazing job setting up for the party. Anyway, I am going to try talking with more people. Heath, I'll be fine, you enjoy yourself." Iliana said before going off on her own.

Heath sighed before turning to Andy and Trinity.

"Andy, I just want to thank you for being a great leader these past few months. Also, this is a dumb question but do either of you know what is up with the temperature. I just can't wrap my head around it."

Iliana had seen Duke being alone and since she wanted first dibs on the shortbread, she made sure to get a plate to put a few on. Approaching Duke, she smiled shyly.

"Hello Duke, how have you been? You want to try my brother's shortbread biscuits. It's a cookie. He learned the recipe from his aunts. Are those cookies any good?" she asked offering him a shortbread biscuit while looking at the Oreos.


Interactions- Andy @Mjolnir, Trinity @xNocturnax, Duke @Sir Sparky






#f1724b ~ Actual Outfit ~ Party



Nelly almost looked like a yeti by the time she was done taking pictures. Sure she was careful to not get snow on her camera, but still got snow all over her. She made sure to shake all of the snow off of her before going inside her cabin. Taking a hot bath, she was ready for lunch. She could fix her own meal, but she feeling a bit lazy, so she ate at the Main Hall. After that, she went back to her cabin to work on her pictures. Her cabin had its own darkroom in the basement so she worked in there for several hours. Cleaning up, she went back up and figured she better start to get ready for the party since she knew she was awful when it came to deciding on what to wear.

This proved to be true. She had a lot of outfits on her bed. She had to remember how cold it was outside.

"Decisions are the worst, I swear!" she complained, holding up a couple of tops.

It took her a good 30 minutes, but she finally was ready in her party attire, but when she stepped outside and felt how warm it was, she moaned.

"Oh come on! Who turned the thermostat up?!"

The gods had to playing with her. It wouldn't surprise her if her dad was up to this. She had a feeling he was laughing at her expense right now. Shaking her head, she went back inside. Back to the drawing board. At least picking out an outfit would be easier this time around. She would just wear what she would call, 'good old reliable'. After putting on the green jumpsuit, she made sure to put on a little make up. Blessed with good genes from both her mother and dad, she didn't need too much. She put her hair in a high ponytail and for shoes, she picked wedges. Finally ready, she exited her cabin. Looking around, the first thing she saw was a double slide.

"Oh score!" she exclaimed before heading for the entrance.

Obviously, she picked the higher of the two. Reaching the peak, she saw sleds. Before grabbing one, she looked around and saw where the party was and saw several people.

"Forget king, I am the Queen of the world!" she shouted, not caring who heard her.

Grabbing a sled, she sat on top of it before pushing off. She laughed and screamed on the way down, loving the speed. At the bottom, she looked at the top and figured she better return it. So she did by teleporting herself back up there and then teleporting back to the bottom. She would have talked to some people, but the ice rink was calling to her. She passed a group of people and saw Elysium, Evelyn, and another face. Waving at them, she walked up to the rink. Switching out her wedges for the skates, she decided to go slow. She didn't want to get sweaty after all. She did have ice skating experience but never had the time nor patience to learn any tricks.


Mentions- Elysium, Evelyn, Chariselle
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Theyra
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Leo had a good conversation with Duke and was impressed by the state of the armory. All of the weapons and armor and all made by Duke. It is a good feat, and the camp is safer for it. All of these tools of war, and Leo restrained himself from touching one. Feeling it not the right time for it and training starts tomorrow anyway. So he will have to pick one later, but for now, he let the weapons and armor stay where they were.

After the tour, and said goodbye to the son of Hephaestus. Leo walked around the camp some before heading out to check out his cabin. Which after some walking did he find it cozy from the outside. Upon closer inspection inside did he realized how good it was. Where are all the cabins like this? He wondered to themself as he explored his new home. He would sigh as he finished his exploration and sat down on a couch. "Well... this better all be worth it." He said to himself as he looked around the room with wary eyes.

Despite coming to camp voluntarily, Leo still wonders if this was the right call. Yeah, his father, the god of war, wanted him here despite their first meeting. Leo's body remembers the divine hands near his neck, and the thought made him shiver with anger. If a god thinks you should be there for your safety, then you should go, Leo. His mother's words echoed in his head. "Well, here I am." Leo saying it in a tired tone.

While yes, camp so far had been nice and he had met two fellow demigods people so far. Liking them both, and there being a party later today. It is only the first day, and with this new leader and training tomorrow. Who knows what life in this camp will be?

Leo let out an audible sigh again and stared at the lit fireplace. "Maybe things here will not be so bad..." Talking to himself and remembering the neat fire trick that Duke did. At least he can be himself and not have to worry about hiding his powers. That is a nice benefit to being in this place.

So Leo spent his time relaxing at his cabin until it was time for the party. When he realized it was time, he almost left the cabin, but when he reached the door. Did he think that maybe he should change clothes. Looking down at what he was wearing and after tossing the thought back and forth in his head. He relented and went to get something more appropriate for a party.

So Leo went to his closet and after spending some time looking for something to wear. He decided on an outfit(minus the glasses and camera). After checking himself out in the mirror, and was satisfied with his appearance. "I hope this works," and he took a deep breath and one last check. Then he left the cabin and went to the party. Hoping that he did not underdress.






Sofia, after talking with Heath, felt relieved that the camp would not hate her for being the daughter of Hades. Seeing how her half-brother Mason has a good standing with the camp.

Now that she was on her own again, Sofia decided to spend some time at the bench. Mainly to throw stones and watch them skip across its surface. Along with wondering how good it will be to actually swim in it once summer is here. If she can, since the point of camp is to train and for the demigods to be warriors.

That detail her mother did not tell her which made Soifa a a bit pissed. She came here for safety and not to deal with Hades. Not to become some warrior for the gods. Why do the gods mean warriors anyway, she wondered as he threw more stones in a more tensed fashion. They are gods, and why do they need their children to fight for them? A thought that while Sofia does not like, she knows she has reasons to stay at camp. Mainly those reasons dealing with Hades, and perhaps she should contact her mother about if she knew of the camp's true purpose.

But right now, Sofia instead, since today there will be a party, and who knows what the rest of camp life will be like. Especially with this new leader who she does not even know who it will be. Sofia went to relax at her cabin and until it was time for the party.

Now, Sofia knew she had to pick something good for the party, and after spending time in his closet figuring out which clothes to wear. She finally decided on a outfit she liked, and after checking herself out in it. She knew this was the dress for tonight. "Time to see how fun this party can be." She said with a smile to her mirror and departed her cabin and went to the party. Hoping that, at least before training starts tomorrow so she can have one fun day during her time here.




When Sofia arrived at the party, and oddly hearing a woman say that she was the queen of the world. She is not sure what that is about, but after noticing that it looks like the campers were not all here yet. Though out of the campers here, which she did not know, Sofia did see one. Leo, who looked like he had just arrived and Sofia went over to the only person she knew here.

"Hey Leo," a happy Sofia exclaimed to the son of Ares.

Leo, looking at another direction and quickly looked at the incoming Sofia. "Oh hey, Sofia." Leo replied with a smile. "Nice dress."

"Nice suit and thanks you," Sofia quickly fire back at him.

Leo chuckled, "Thanks as well, and nice to see you here."

"Same, Leo and I have good news." Sofia took a deep breath, "so it turns out I may not have to worry about being a Hades kid here and I have a half-brother here."

Leo looked happy and relieved for her. "That is good, Sofia, and I am glad you do not have to worry." Leo had a curious expression on his face. "Who is your half-brother and have you met you yet?"

"Mason...." Sofia took a moment to speak. "I have not met him yet, but I get the impression that he may be hard to talk to. Or at least approach."

"Uh, that... do you want any help with that, Sofia?" Sounding sincere.

Sofia quickly looked concerned. "No, no, no, no, Leo. This is my problem, my family. I can handle this, and you do not need to worry about this." Sofia calmed down some, "But thanks for the offer."

"Okay, okay, Sofia, I get it, and I just hope things go well with you with Mason." Then a thought occurred to him that he had not realized yet. "Wait, if you have a sibling here.... could I have one here?" Leo looked confused but was thinking.

Sofia's eyes lit up, and she sounded excited. "That is possible and I encourage you to find and meet with them." Then she looked around, seeing who was here, and looked back at Leo. "Though maybe wait for more people to show up... then again. I am not sure a party is the best time to find a maybe sibling." Sofia wondered for a bit before talking to Leo. "Still, if I have one, then you could too, and again. Meet them, and I hope it goes well for you."

Leo gave a small smile, spoke. "Will do, Sofia, and good to hear you doing okay."

Sofia replied with her own smile. "Same Leo, but I feel like we should actually meet new people now, since what better time to socialize with a stranger than at a party."

Leo chuckled a bit."That is a point I have to agree with, just try not to overdo it."

Sofia gave him a look, "I know my limits, Leo, and I have not yet done anything bad yet." That was reserved for a friend of hers.

"Okay, I believe you and have a good party night, Sofia."

"Will do and same back at you, Leo."

The two parted ways and headed to other parts of the party. Hoping that tonight will be a good time for each of them.
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant A mind filled with chaos

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Not at all,’ Elysium let a faint smile appear on his face when a woman approached him and started conversing. Looking at the games that were laid out at the party, he gestured to the one that was a board with a hole in it and it had colored bags. ‘That is cornhole,’ and he gestured to the other one. The one that was a ladder with balls on a string. ‘And that is a ladderball game. Both of them have quite a few different names,’ he explained. He knew cornhole was called bean bag toss and tailgate toss. Ladderball had a few different names and the other names he knew it by was monkey ball or ladder golf.

He shrugged his shoulders, ‘They are easy to learn. We just need a few more people or we could just play against each other if you really want to play,’ Elysium didn’t mind either option. It would give him a moment to get to know more people.

When she held out her hand, he reached out and shook it, but his grip was gentle as if he didn’t want to hurt her. ‘I’m Elysium, it’s nice to meet you, Evelyn,’ and by the time he was taking his hand away, someone else was approaching.

Glancing at the game, Evelyn, and back at the woman — Elysium smiled and nodded his head, “You definitely can join. Evelyn and I were just talking about the games and they are pretty easy to play,’ he stated without issue. They were simple. Cornhole was all about keeping the bags on the board, lower on the board was one point, higher was two, and in the hole was three points. Ladderball was just as simple. Keep the balls on a string on the rungs of the latter — lowest was one, middle was two, and top was three points. The team that got to twenty-one first was the winner.

Elysium held out his hand to Chariselle, ‘It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Elysium by the way,’ he introduced himself in a similar way and tone with how he introduced himself only a minute before to Evelyn. The man was very casual with how he was.

So, you can play it with alcohol for sure, but you don’t have to. Those rules are always made up by the people playing. You have two teams of two. Each team has a person standing on both sides, so you can easily toss your team's color back and forth. If we play cornhole, a bag touching the ground at all doesn’t count as a point and if it falls off the board, you don’t gain that point either. Lower on the board is one point, higher on the board is two points, and in the hole is three points. With ladderball, if your balls get knocked off, you don’t gain that point, and they have to be resting on one of three rungs. The lowest rung is one point, the middle rung is two points, and the top rung is three points. The team that reaches or goes past twenty-one is the winner,’ Elysium gladly explained how to play the games to the girls.

So…,’ this was when he noticed Nelly going by and he waved back to her before putting his attention on both of the girls. ‘So we just need one more person or you guys can team up against me if you want to.’ He didn’t mind being on his own team, if no one else wanted to join.



Interactions Evelyn @xNocturnax, Chariselle @PatientBean, and Nelly @Pristine1281Mentions/references, — Location near the ladder ball and by cornhole
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Mjolnir
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#0a6d6b ....|..... outfit .....|..... his cabin > party


Another camp party. Sylas often found himself wondering how anyone ever took this place seriously. It seemed to be High School 2.0. A cesspool of teenage drama and demigod rage. It was always a recipe for disaster, if the last party was anything to go off of. Sure, he played his part, but the emotions were already there, he just gave them a little… nudge. He thought helping tip Alex over the edge to the point of nearly killing Andy might have scared the girl from attending, let alone throwing another party. Yet, here they were. Ms. My-Ass-Got-Fried-By-A-Psychotic-Zeus-Bitch throwing her own little soiree like it wasn’t destined to go up in flames. And he’d be damned if he missed it.

While New Year’s Eve usually called for some level of pomp and circumstance, Sylas wasn’t in the mood to try too much when it came to his clothes. Sure, he could have gone all out and really embraced it, but who was he trying to impress? His hand froze an inch from the handle to his closet. The question repeated in his head, echoing around his skull. He closed his eyes and sighed. No. Not that, he told himself, brushing off the thought before it could manifest. The past couple of months gave him time to come up for air. He needed to be smarter before jumping back into the deep end. The undertow was strong and that was one current he couldn’t fight, no matter how hard he tried.

Sylas pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand, while opening the closet with his other. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes to stare down the clothes opposite him. You’re not trying to impress anyone, he repeated in his head like a mantra while looking through his wardrobe. His casual was still nicer than most people’s nice, so he figured anything he chose would be above par for camp’s standards. Rather than dwell on the decision he put something together that was simple with a little bit of class. He chose his favorite blush trousers and a navy short sleeve dress shirt, with a white tank undershirt so he could style the outfit in a more leisurely fashion. With a small dab of pomade in his hands, he slicked back his hair letting a couple locks dangle freely. He finished up with a few sprays of his Valentino cologne and grabbed a pair of black loafers.

He grabbed his wool coat by the door and took a step outside, sliding his right arm into the sleeve. Halfway out onto his porch, Sylas froze, brows furrowed in confusion. He looked around, noting the soft falling snow that fell between the trees and added to the white blanket on the ground. But he wasn’t cold. He was confused and looked around like that John Travolta Pulp Fiction meme for a moment before he ditched his coat inside and headed toward the party.

Even on the other side of camp, Sylas could hear the soft murmur of music in the distance and the rhythmic thumping of the bass. As he stepped out onto the main path he noticed a pair of demigods, both dark haired with tan complexions, farther down the trail. It was unlikely they’d try to strike up a dialogue when they looked deep in their own conversation, but rather than chance it he turned north and circled around the arena that way.

It wasn’t long before he came around the armory and saw the party beyond the practice range. He didn’t know what he expected, but ice skating and sledding was not on Sylas’s bingo card. Then again this was Andy, former Mrs. Ajax, so a vanilla bordering on childish New Year’s Eve party somehow sounded on brand. At least there seemed to be an area for dancing and a bar, so not all hope was lost. He started making his way across the field when a shout from the top of the sledding hill caught his attention. "Forget king, I am the Queen of the world!"

Sylas’s head craned around in time to watch Nelly fly down the hill. "Fucking children," he scoffed to himself and shook his head. It came as no surprise that the girl too dense to understand flirting liked the juvenile nature of the party activities. He made sure to avoid eye contact, not wanting to delve into pretending to be nice to someone like Nelly without having a drink first.

He sidled up to the backside of the bar, not really interested in trying to squeeze between Andy, Trinity and the boring duo. Sylas kept to himself, quiet, with quick working hands like it was not his first time tending a bar as he got himself a whiskey on the rocks. He scanned the demigods that had made it to the party as he brought the glass to his lips. Where was everyone? A camp party was never this dead. There were definitely people missing, maybe running fashionably later or fresh meat overwhelmed by the prospect of socializing. But if this was the turn out, camp was worse off than he gave credit for.

As took inventory of who was there, and who wasn't, when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. There, halfway across the field, he saw the splash of red that drowned out everything else. How could he have missed her before? Gods damn Nelly and her idiotic shouting. Everything else faded away as he saw her, and only her. He couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t have to. He knew it was her. The way she stood with the posture of a woman with a hidden confidence, her weight shifted to one hip and her head slightly tilted to the side. Her crimson hair swept over her shoulder exposing the open, low back of her white cocktail dress. Small intentional slits revealed little glimpses of her ivory skin beneath the fabric teasing a modest peek at her body beneath. His gaze trailed from the tip of her head down to her white open toed pumps with crisscrossing straps.

Sylas should have played it more subtle, but she looked so unbelievably gorgeous. He was stunned. Awestruck. He unabashedly drank in every ounce of her. His gaze hugged every single curve of her body as it slowly ascended her frame until he was met by her striking blue eyes staring back at him. He didn’t waiver or look away. A brow rose and he smirked, raising his glass to silently toast how incredible she looked. Even if he didn’t say it and they were on opposite sides of the party, she needed to know she was beautiful… and he saw her.



interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... river, anissa, nelly, andy, trinity, heath, iliana & evelyn ............... collabs ....|.... none
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Mjolnir
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#667c0c ....|..... outfit .....|..... his cabin > party


Wes startled himself awake with a loud snore. By the time he woke up from his nap, he lay sprawled diagonally across his bed, face down. The blankets were halfway on the floor and his left leg dangled over the side of the mattress. He groggily lifted his head and looked around like he had been transplanted to another decade. "What year is it?" he mumbled to himself, propping himself up on his elbow and wiping the spit from his cheek. He rolled over onto his back and stretched causing his whole body to tremble slightly from the extension.

When he finally opened his eyes, he squinted, confused why everything felt so dark. He blinked a couple more times and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes when he realized he must have slept through the day. Wes shot upright in his bed and turned to look at the clock. 7:03 p.m. "Oh shit," he exclaimed under his breath and jumped out of bed.

Thankfully, he dragged Trinity and himself into a shower earlier that day, so he could nix wasting time on a second one. He paused, standing beside his bed. His face scrunched up in thought as he tried to recall what else they did in the shower. He scoffed and brushed it off. There was water, they got wet, that was good enough. Just to be safe, he lifted his arm and sniffed. Eh, he’d be fine. First things first, he grabbed his deodorant and body spray from the nightstand and applied both, making sure the smell people would get from him was delicious. Honestly, Aphrodite kids probably sweated aphrodisiacs but Wes wasn’t going to risk the possibility of smelling. No sir.

He then wandered over to his closet and stared at the array of identical clothing. Being a child of the beauty Goddess, you could be forgiven for assuming someone like Wes would have a stellar sense of fashion, but no. In the end, he was a guy… A guy who had the exact same outfit in every color it came in. He liked what he liked and never had to worry about trying to impress anyone. It usually just… happened. But it was a party, a New Year’s Eve party no less. So, he’d at least try, a little.

No flannel. Wes always wore flannel. That eliminated like… almost everything. That basically left him a tighter black T-shirt and jeans. He figured if he was going to be dressing a little out of his wheelhouse, he might as well embrace it. Rather than reaching for his usual baggier jeans, he grabbed the pair of form fitting ones shoved away in the corner that he rarely touched. Wearing tight clothes while drinking didn’t sound like the best idea, but Trinity was always saying how hot he was, so maybe she’d like seeing a little more of his muscles and stuff through his clothes. Guys sure as hell loved it when girls wore tight clothes, who’s to say it was any different the other way around.

It took a little work and a couple jumps to shimmy into the jeans and get them over his thighs. Once they were up and on Wes collapsed back on his bed giving himself a momentary breather. After a minute or so, he grabbed the black T-shirt from the closet and laid it out. He tied the right sleeve into a small knot, which took some effort and his teeth to accomplish. But when he finished he was able to pull the shirt over his head and tuck the knot into the arm hole so it laid relatively flat. He made the mistake of grabbing a pair of shoes with laces, which he hadn’t quite mastered doing one handed. Several stomps, kicks and wiggles later, he managed to wedge his index finger into the heel of the boots and tug them up onto his feet.

If he wasn’t sweating before, he definitely was by the time he finished dressing. Airing on the side of caution, Wes reapplied a little deodorant and wiped away the sweat that accumulated on his brow. Already running a little late he hurried down the stairs, out his front door and halfway down the exterior stairs before registering the snow that fell around him. He pivoted and went back up a couple steps realizing he forgot his coat, then paused. He should be cold. Why wasn’t he cold? He extended his hand, catching stray snowflakes in his palm. They were definitely cold and melted shortly after touching his skin, but he felt… fine? Was he going crazy? He thought about it for all of about two seconds before shrugging, disregarding it as Camp bullshit and kept heading down the stairs.

Wes’s cabin was fairly close to the field, so it took him maybe five minutes if he lollygagged to get there. The very first thing that grabbed his attention was the massive sledding hill as he caught the tail end of whatever Nelly was shouting and her speedy descent. Oh, he had every intention of conquering that several times before the night was over but first… His eyes skimmed everyone who was already there, not as much as he had imagined, but maybe that meant he wasn’t as late as he thought. He noticed a couple unfamiliar faces but mostly people he knew. But when he saw Andy and the back of a blonde, he knew it could only be one person.

As he approached, Wes made sure to remain a little stealthy, approaching Trinity from behind. He held up his index finger to his lips, signaling for anyone around to not let on that he was approaching. He was only a few feet away when Trinity picked up two shots and turned to Andy. Before the daughter of Hecate could take the drink, Wes moved around Trinity, leaning down and grabbing a glass straight from her hand with his mouth. He did his best not to laugh and accidentally spit it out before tilting his head back and taking the shot. When he finished he playfully spit the glass out, caught it and discarded it somewhere on the bar.

His hand took Trinity’s waist and turned her around to face him so he could get a good look at her. It wasn’t until that moment that Wes noticed how she was dressed. He had gotten used to her always being more of a tomboy and modest, that seeing her in a transparent shirt with only some kind of sports bra thing on underneath definitely got this attention. He bit his lip and spent a long moment taking in the whole outfit, but more specifically the skin she willingly exposed. "Hey there, sexy," he said as his gaze trailed up her body to meet hers. "I have a girlfriend, but I won’t tell her if you won’t," he teased before leaning in to give her a longer and more passionate kiss than what was probably ok in public, but he couldn’t give a shit. He at least didn’t use tongue… yet. Once more alcohol was in his system, no promises.

"I don’t want to intrude on girl time," he said, holding up his hand innocently as he turned to include Andy in the conversation… and Heath, which he somehow missed. "Sorry, man. I was distracted. You can understand." he apologized, giving him a pat on the shoulder with a wink, assuming he understood how beautiful women had a way of distracting men and getting their attention.

Wes moved behind Trinity, sliding his arm around her waist to pull her back into him. He placed a tender kiss on the cap of her shoulder, then raised his mouth to her ear, whispering low enough that only she could hear. "Don’t get too drunk. I have every intention of seeing these clothes on the floor tonight." He pulled away and gave her ass a little slap as he retreated.

He really really wanted to give that sledding hill a go. But Wes noticed a nice looking guy outnumbered by two girls, so he figured he’d throw him a bone. As he got closer he picked up the tail end of the conversation. "So we just need one more person or you guys can team up against me if you want to."

"Hell yeah, cornhole," he said with excitement as he approached the group. "Did I just hear there’s room for a fourth?" Wes asked, taking a step forward to join them. He knew Evelyn, even if they hadn’t ever really spoken to one another, but the other two were new faces. "I’m Wes," he offered. First he held out his fist toward the guy for a fist bump since a handshake with him was kind of awkward without a right arm. Then he offered both girls a friendly smile and head nod.



interactions ....|.... trinity, andy, heath, elysium, evelyn & chariselle ............... mentions ....|.... nelly ............... collabs ....|.... none
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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Fabricator
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Fabricator The Reforged

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#024B30 .....|..... outfit .....|..... Cabin/Main Hall -> Party


The building she was in seemed both familiar yet almost alien to her, dimly lit and crowded with all manner of objects just beyond her vision, which appeared as shapeless shadows that lost their form the longer you tried to make sense of them. Confused and uncertain of where she was, Fiona stumbled through room after room, banging doors aside in anger and on the edge of panic, never stopping long as she glanced around each one without taking anything in, yet almost growling in frustration as she failed to find whatever she was looking for.

There was a faint whisper at the edge of hearing, which did little else but drive her onwards in her search, most likely seeking its source, perhaps or attempting to silence it instead. The rooms were all different yet so similar at the same time, even if she couldn't explain why to herself. As she moved through each and onto the next, her eyes darted wildly from corner to corner in search of whatever it was she was rushing to find, and every time she failed to do so, many fiery and ever-inventive curses passed her lips.

The whispers were growing louder but still just beyond hearing, and as if to highlight her inability to make sense of them, a faint dripping sound had begun to accompany them. She couldn't tell if the drops were falling far away or right in front of her because every time she tried to focus on the sound, it felt as if the noise was either overwhelming or vanished entirely for several moments before creeping back to the edge of hearing. The whispers had done that at first as well, fading in and out as she'd gone from room to room, half convincing her that she was either moving further away or closer to them till, at last, she realised they were following her.

As she passed through one of the doorframes, her fingers lingered and felt cool and damp to the touch as they smeared something dark on the surface. Though her hand and eyes lingered sometimes against the different materials of each, the stone or metal felt out of place compared to the wood or peeling paint she'd expected. The rooms had become increasingly tattered and worn as she continued, and it felt as if she'd been descending through whatever structure she'd found herself in, despite having yet to find any stairs; yet, she knew her path was leading downwards. The air was cooler, and sometimes, as she left a room, she could see her breath mist before her, but it was only that — a single breath of uncertainty, and then it was gone.

She found herself moving down a corridor with no memory of how she came to be there; the walls were lined with cracked and rusted lights that looked to have leapt straight out of a haunted mansion. The lights spluttered and died as she approached, causing her to break into a run as she tried to stand in their pale light; her steps brought her closer to them each time before she managed at last to glimpse the crusted blood that caked her hands.

Her eyes were wide and confused as she stared at the knife that she clung onto so hard her knuckles were white, while the fresh blood dripped off the tip - red as black cherries in the sickly light of the flickering bulbs. Her footsteps had slowed, but she was still moving quickly as the endless corridor was replaced with a shadowy room without visible edges. The tiled floor beneath her echoed loudly in her ears, accompanied by the slamming of multiple doors, as she tried to stop and regain her bearings.

Skidding on the tiles that were slippery and wet, she felt herself jerk uncomfortably in hopes of maintaining her balance before crashing hard onto the floor; pain flared in her limbs as they took the brunt of the fall. Resting on her hands and knees, she stared at the smeared blood that she'd slipped on and followed the pool to where an unknown light shone down upon a lifeless body, her knife now buried deep with its heart while its sightless eyes stared at her in accusation. She tried to scrabble away, her hands refusing to find purchase on the tiled floor as the whispers that had dogged her through his accursed place began to grow louder while more bodies started to claw their way through the walls and floor around her, their arms outstretched and their mouths drawn in screams.

The roar of their vitriolic attacks became deafening in the near darkness, while her vision blurred and spun as memories flashed before her eyes, growing faster and faster until they began to merge into a never-ending torrent of past misdeeds.



She woke harshly to the sharp pain of falling onto the hardwood floor of her cabin, the room shifting in and out of focus as she slowly regained consciousness, her eyes still feeling groggy and blurry.

"Arse..." she groaned, her face half sticking against the floor, causing her words to mumble out of her lips.

Shifting a little to try and push herself up, she felt the bite of overexerted muscles flare, not at all helped by the fall, even if it had thankfully freed her from sleep. Scrabbling a little on the smooth hardwood floor, she was able to drag herself to a sitting position. After a moment or two to catch her breath and glare around her room with bleary eyes, she reached towards her bedside table where there was a bottle with some dregs still remaining from the previous night; the amber liquid glinted from the fading rays of sunlight poking through the partially closed curtains. Pulling it over to her, she fell back onto the floor, quickly unscrewed the lid, and downed what was left in a rush.

"Aw, feck." She shuddered a little as the last gulp of whiskey burned her throat, her face twisting into a warm smile.

After letting the memories of whatever nightmarish place she'd dreamed of fade to a distorted mess as it often did, she clambered to her feet and headed towards the bathroom of her cabin. She plonked the bottle down on the side of the bench with a loud noise that she partially regretted, even if she rarely suffered hangovers long, if at all.

Stepping into the shower, she breathed a sigh of relief as the scalding water helped to ease the stiffness in her muscles. Fiona had managed to sleep away most of the day, having drank herself into a stupor the day before, but then again, she was never exactly a morning person at the best of times. The only reason she was getting herself out of bed before lunchtime since her arrival had been primarily because Nell had usually barged into her cabin and dragged her kicking and screaming to go running around camp. She both loved and hated the girl in equal measure, not just because Nell never ran out of energy and took a lot to keep up with, but also because Fiona wasn't used to having someone so actively there in her life, which was somewhat jarring. While she'd been at camp for some time now and had helped where she could with the repairs, though others had certainly done far more than she ever could in that regard, and she'd not exactly mingled very well with most of them.

She stood there, zoning out with her eyes closed, enjoying the warm while she wondered if she'd managed to sleep through any plans with Duke or someone else before her head snapped up and her eyes sprang open; a groan of annoyance parted her lips, and she leaned her head against the misted glass. She gave it a light tap with each word "Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks."

Of course, today was New Year's Eve, which brought with it many complications, all of which she'd completely and utterly forgotten about. The party that Andy had planned for them all, and Fiona couldn't remember if she'd been asked to help with the set up or do something else, but nothing was particularly forthcoming. It wasn’t like she particularly wanted to go but at the same time she’d feel guilty for not at least showing her face though she'd likely be running behind if she hadn't missed the party already. She couldn't even remember how long it had been since she'd gotten in the shower, let alone what time it was when she'd woken up. Though the sun had only just been setting, so she thought it couldn't have been too long.

After she finished up and grabbed a towel, she darted around her cabin, trying to piece together clothing and such for the night ahead, pausing with various items in hand as she was doing her best to remember what had been planned for the new year's celebration; uncertain whether she'd been told and had simply forgotten or hadn't paid attention in the first place.

Fiona dashed downstairs and poked her head out of the door of her cabin, re-thinking her idea just as she'd done it because it was the middle of winter with her standing here in naught but a towel and fully expecting to instantly regret that when someone would need to come thaw her out. But despite that, it felt almost stuffily warm outside, which was a far cry from the day before. Clearly, one of the others had been working magic behind the scenes to improve conditions. Nipping back inside and closing the door behind her, she finished drying off and proceeded to get dressed, having picked out a green flared midi dress, which she slipped over her head and covered her underwear and a pair of leggings. Once smoothed down a little, she looked herself over in the mirror before giving a twirl, which felt utterly ridiculous but at the same time, couldn't help but make her smile as her outfit reminded her of easier times back home, even if there were small patches on it around the edges that were either frayed or burnt.

After donning a pair of boots that ought to keep the snow off her ankles, she was now finally ready. She dashed outside, glancing briefly at the snow as it continued to fall, pausing for a moment to decide whether to grab a jacket or not, but decided to throw caution to the wind instead. Pulling the door closed, she half-jogged towards the centre of camp, which thankfully didn't take her long. She did wonder if she ought to have knocked on Duke's door on her way past, thinking that perhaps he'd either forgotten, as she had or was simply running late, but instead, she figured he must already be there somewhere.

The party itself was certainly awe-inspiring, given that it wasn't anything like this the day before, though she was a little wary of the bonfire, making sure to keep her distance as her eyes got a little lost in the flickering flames. Before she could take in much more of what was on offer, she heard a loud and joyous cry of "Forget king, I am the Queen of the world!" which couldn't help but make her chuckle at her friend's antics. Making her wonder if she might not loosen up a bit towards the more childlike activities herself and enjoy welcoming in the new year in chaos. Scanning around those already here, she thought that Nell was possibly the only other person she'd actively socialised with beyond cursory greetings since the camp had all but imploded, and then she spotted another familiar face.

Regardless of what her plans were next going to be, though perhaps a bit of sledding was exactly what was needed, her first stop was towards the bar, and perhaps a bit of food, given her stomach was already beginning to rumble after being mostly ignored all day. She paused by the food, standing next to Duke, on the other side from Iliana, and pointing towards the plate of cookies.

”Sure where else would I find you, eh? Save one for me, will ya Duke? I’m utterly starved, and that’ll make a good dessert. If the look o’bliss on your face is anything to go by.” she reached over and made sure to grab a plate, pulling a quick assortment of warm food onto it before stepping around Duke, and just about avoiding crashing into the other girl ”Hello, it's Iliana, right? Sorry ‘bout that.” she smiled apologetically before turning and walking backwards in the direction of the bar.

”Just as parched as well, do either of ya wanna a drink?” She continued to step backwards as she waited for Duke or Iliana’s response and downed a few bites before turning round, she reached it.

As she filled a glass with whiskey on ice, with the complete intention of doing a one hundred and eighty point turn back towards more food, she glanced over at the other person near the bar, his own glass raised in what she at first thought was a mock salute, until she followed his gaze to where he seemed to be watching a few of the other campers, two of which seemed newly arrived, gathered around one of the games that were setup. Well, focused on one camper in particular, given how lost to the world he appeared. Though her mind had been more focused on the drinks themselves as she'd barely registered that he was even there, till she was standing almost next to him.

Taking a sip of her drink to wash down her last hurried bite, she turned to look up at him before speaking "Whatcha doin' Sylas? And what do you think of this whiskey?" her Irish accent softened the slight teasing tone of her voice, with her second question half serving as an out from his unabashed staring. Either she’d get an answer or not, then she could re-fill her drink and sort ones for the other two as well and head back.


Interactions .....|..... Sylas, Duke, Iliana ............... Mentions .....|..... Nell, Wes ............... Collabs .....|..... None

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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Theyra
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Theyra

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outfit(minus the glasses and camera)

Hmmm, I wonder what there is to drink and eat? Leo thought to himself after he left Sofia's company and ventured to the tables. He was a bit hungry and hoping that this party has good food. It would be a bad party if it did, and while Leo would see a crowd forming. Mainly with people he did not know, and they seemed to know each other. So not new arrivals like him and Sofia.

Still, the person he noticed the most was one camper with only one arm. That guy must have a story to tell, Leo thought, and as he got closer to the tables, he did see one familiar face. Duke, who looked like he was talking to people. Leo was not one to interpret, though he does want to say hi to the man. Either way, he seemingly quietly went to see what was available at the tables before he tried talking to someone.

While he was pleased about the food situation, his mood dropped when it came to refreshments. Alcohol, all of it was alcohol, despite the large selection of it. Leo was not exactly a fan of that. Not because he hates alcohol or dislikes the taste of it. Because he likes to be in control of himself and alcohol when enough is in your system. Tends to make people lose control or do stuff they would not normally do. Granted, he could at least have one cup of the stuff, which will not make him drunk for sure. But since it was New Year's and everything. Leo figured a small amount of alcohol would not hurt, and went with a small cup of whiskey. So, tonight, Leo is choosing to let some alcohol into his system, but only this one cup. Ever watchful of his mental state and body.

Which he gave the food table his full attention and started picking food and eating. Not a lot, just some snacks to satisfy his hunger. Being seen as a glutton on his first day here is an image he does not want to have.

But, seeing how Duke was close but busy talking to others. Leo decided against saying hi to Duke and meeting with those near him for now. So he went to wander around the party grounds for a time. Seeing how else was here and so far. He was having a pleasant night so far.

Interacts - None | Mentions - Wes, Duke





outfit

Sofia's first destination after talking to Leo was the sledding hill. Yes, she is an adult, and sledding is for kids. But tonight is a party, and with the snow still on the ground. It was a prime opportunity to have some fun, and besides, what is the point of a big sledding hill if no one uses it? Some things should be used for the sake of fun. Especially at a New Year's party like this one. So screw it.

So Sofia went to the top of the hill, picked a sled, and smiled and laughed as she went down the hill. It has been a long time since she slid down the hill, and almost forgotten how fun it was. Once she was at the bottom, Sofia was tempted to do another round of sledding but decide against it as there were more things to do at this party. But, seeing how the sleds were kept up on the top of the hill. She did returned it and walked down the hill. Almost tempted to take a sled down and repeat the process.

Now Sofia had the chance to talk to people and looked around to see who was around. She would see Leo at the tables, and she could pick out Heath. No one else she could recognize, but after seeing a lone girl skating on the ice rink. Sofia knew what she had to do, and what better way to meet someone than skating on the ice with them. A winning combo in Sofia's mind, and she went to the ice rink.

Once there, she took off her shoes, got skates, and started skating. Not too fast but a bit slow, it has been a bit since she ice skated last and she would rather not fall down on her butt right off the bat.

Soon, she would reach the slow-going Nelly. Once she was close to her, she would slow down to Nelly's speed and with a smile. Sofia spoke while trying not to surprise her. "Hey, there," She gave a small wave. I see someone else had the good idea of ice skating tonight. I am Sofia, and I was not expecting this today."

Interacts - Nelly@Pristine1281 | Mentions - Heath
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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Fabricator
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Fabricator The Reforged

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#B300B3 .....|..... day outfit -> party outfit .....|..... Cabin/Arena -> Party


Dawn was breaking, and the early rays of the sun were beginning to poke through the trees at the edge of the camp. Veronica lounged on the balcony of her cabin, wrapped up tightly in a dressing gown and heated blanket. She was sipping from a warm cup of hot chocolate pressed between her gloved hands as the honey-golden light warmed her face and the falling snow fluttered around her. She'd often been an early riser at home since it allowed her freedom around the house and usually let her leave before other members of her family stirred. She'd fallen out of step with the habit a little after she arrived at camp while recovering from some of the injuries she'd sustained in those opening days, returning to it again for much the same reasons she'd done so at home.

While she had no real reason to view the other demigods with the same wariness that she had with her own family or her peers during school and college, she still wasn't sure where she fit. Everyone at camp seemed to have retreated outside of a few here and there, such as those who were busy bed-hopping, of course, and she could hardly blame them for seeking a little warmth.

After all, that’s exactly what she was doing after a fashion, lying here in the morning sun. Though as the day grew brighter, she thought it best that she should shower and get ready for the day ahead, as she preferred to get some early exercise around camp to help with her recovery, even if she didn’t have anything else planned for the day. The only times she did was usually because someone else had organised something, usually Iliana, more often than not. Though she’d learned her mistake after the first time she’d watched the sunrise after showering and had almost frozen to death, which had hardly started that day well.

Getting up and shaking some of the snow off her blanket, Veronica went back inside her cabin and closed the balcony door behind her. She downed what was left of her drink before taking it downstairs and putting it in the sink of the small kitchen area. Grabbing a bowl, milk from the fridge and some s'more style cereal from a cupboard, she made herself a quick and easy breakfast that she ate while looking at the snow-covered activity field beyond the trees near her cabin. She dropped the bowl into the sink alongside her cup so she could clean it up later or tomorrow.

After she jogged up the stairs, she undressed, grabbed her phone and set music away on her phone before leaving it on the bench of the bathroom. As she stepped into the shower, she began singing along with the music, starting with Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan. Once she was thoroughly clean and feeling refreshed, she exited the shower and grabbed a towel, which she first used to dry her hair before wrapping it around herself as she sat on the edge of her bed to use her hairdryer. There was rarely any need to actually comb her hair since she realised that she could just maintain it with her abilities, but she still found it calming to spend a few minutes doing so, all the same.

Continuing to sing along to her music, Veronica picked out some clothes, settling on denim jeans with light brown knee-high boots, and a plain white shirt that she pulled a thick turtleneck over the top to complete the outfit. Once dressed, she went downstairs, making sure to pick up her phone and earbuds, which she quickly popped in before slipping a pair of earmuffs over the top. She almost forgot her gloves and had to dash back for them and was thankful for remembering, as it was still very cold outside and her face was already pinkening up.

Leaving her cabin behind, she trudged a little through the snow, swaying to the beat of her music and musing to herself that she was starting her days later and later by watching the sunrise this late in the year. She cut up towards the back of the stables, turning left through the trees and passing near the arena when the camp was filled with the sound of Andy’s voice on the speakers. Veronica paused her music so she could hear what was being said more easily, though it was hard to miss.

"Good morning, campers. It is currently 9 a.m., on December 31st, New Year's Eve. It's currently 15 degrees Fahrenheit, -9.4 degrees Celsius, and snowing. So be sure to wear your boots and winter coats when you leave your cabins today."

Veronica was thinking to herself that, thankfully, she was already ahead of Andy on that, but still, it would likely be appreciated by the other campers.

"There was a note left at the main office for me to find… from the Gods. Exciting news, new demigods are expected to join us today."

She stopped walking for a moment, her hand reaching out towards a nearby tree to steady herself. More campers, as if she wasn't struggling being around as many others already let alone the prospect of introducing more uncertainty, and temptation.

"The note also mentioned a new leader and, quote, a rigorous training regimen. So, today will be the last day of these daily announcements… at least from me."

Veronica felt herself slumping backwards against a tree, as memories of when she'd first arrived flooded her thoughts; back when they'd officially had a leader, if only for a short time and their initial training. And then the horrors that had followed, when one of the other campers had unleashed a nightmare upon them. Her own experience had left her barely able to move afterwards, her body bruised and by some miracle not broken when some winged monster had hauled her skyward before cutting her loose where she'd been sent crashing through the trees on her way to the ground. As painful as the branches had been and though her muscles still ached at times, though her daily walks had helped, she knew that if she'd missed any more of them, then she'd likely have died instead. The people who had died, like their last leader Nick. She smiled at the thought of him being so flustered when they first met, despite his mishap over the speakers.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost missed the final part of the camp announcement.

"And last, but not least, tonight at sundown on the Activities Field, we will be having a New Year's Eve celebration. So, I'll be seeing you, and the new campers there."

A party wasn’t exactly something she was thrilled about but perhaps it would help her to stop hiding behind Heath and Iliana, since she’d barely spoken to anyone else since her arrival, what with being actively shut inside her cabin wherever possible. Even when she ventured out, she usually tried to get to the main hall either late at night or before the sun had risen to scavenge supplies to maintain her hideaway. At least that's what she’d been doing once she’d no longer been bedridden and didn’t have her friends helping her by doing it instead.

Sighing, she pushed herself away from the tree and carried on walking, her eyes flicking between the practice range or the arena, before settling on the latter. She headed in and proceeded to spend a couple of hours making use of the equipment that appeared and vanished as needed. Alternating between whacking a sword ineffectually against training dummies, light weightlifting and running around a roughly drawn track and obstacle course. She was utterly exhausted but felt better for having done what she was naively calling her own “training regime”; even if she was a little embarrassed and hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else, usually resulting in her hurriedly leaving the arena whenever she spotted anyone else. She’d just felt so hopeless when they’d been threatened with real danger and wanted to fix that, but it had taken so long for her injuries to heal that she’d gotten the distinct impression of being treated like a baby bird with a broken wing at times. She’d hung up her turtleneck when she’d first arrived so as not to overheat even if she was barely keeping herself above freezing with the exertion, though her top was now drenched with melted snow and sweat.

Finishing up at the Arena, she hurried back through the snow, doing her best to avoid patches of ice in her and others footprints as she made her way back towards her cabin, her damp clothes causing her to shiver. Glancing over at the activity field, she could see Andy and Trinity setting up various things ahead of the party that evening. She gave them a half-hearted wave that she didn’t think either of them had even noticed, which made perfect sense given they were on opposite sides of the field, and they were otherwise occupied.

Once back at her cabin, she made herself another cup of hot chocolate and settled down in front of the fire with her guitar to relax for an hour or so before going for a nap.



She could hear her alarm ringing out nearby, her arm flailing as she tried to locate her phone before bringing a return to blissful quiet. Which, of course, only lasted a moment before it returned with a vengeance, and then was silenced again.

This repeated itself a few more times before she finally knocked the alarm off entirely rather than simply snoozing it. Her body was screaming at her, having decided her earlier activities were a terrible idea, but she had to get up as there was only an hour till the party, rather than the two she'd given herself. Apparently, she'd been far more drained than she had assumed. Looking at her phone, she'd actually snoozed at several alarms in the end but had obviously failed a few times.

She flicked through her phone before settling on some different music from earlier, which she set to play at near full volume, starting with Outlaws by Delta Rae as she jumped back into the shower for the second time.

She dressed quickly, grabbing a fresh set of clothes similar to what she’d worn that morning with the same turtleneck in preparation for the cold weather, only to step out into something closer to a warm fall evening. Stumbling a little as she tried to make sense of the sudden shift in the weather, which still appeared to include falling snow, which was rather novel, she assumed that Andy had managed something magical along with the upcoming party as a whole. Pausing at the threshold of her cabin to think, she decided to take the turtleneck off and throw it back inside onto a nearby chair, and grabbed a denim jacket instead to go over her cream coloured shirt.

Arriving at the party a little later than she’d liked, she could see several of the other campers dotted around the activity field. They all seemed to be doing their own thing, which Veronica didn’t want to intrude on. Her earlier confidence and plans to ‘mingle’ more with them had melted in this sudden heatwave that was overwhelming the camp, which was clearly preferable to the freezing weather it had been.

Music from the dancefloor was drifting out through the air, and she could feel herself starting to bob along to it and was seriously contemplating just giving in to the beat and ignoring everything for a little bit. Instead, she spotted that there was an ice rink here as well, which lit up her face in delight, as a smile spread across her face. She jogged, almost skipping over to it, her thoughts half lost in memories of skating both on and off the ice as she’d grown up, as it was an easy hobby to keep up away from the house, though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even skated. She was so caught up in the past that she’d almost completely missed the other two girls already out on the ice.

It took her a minute or two to get the skates on and her own boots stuffed back out of the falling snow, so they’d keep dry. Gingerly, she stepped onto the ice, feeling her feet skid a little as she got her balance, her hands fastened tightly to the edge of the rink.

Her limbs still felt stiff after her time in the arena, and overall ungainly as she slid away and out onto the open ice of the rink, feeling like a baby deer, a rising panic causing her to flail for a moment before she steadied herself. Slowly but surely, her movements were becoming easier the longer she was skating, though she kept her distance from the other two just in case either they crashed, or she did. Skating across the ice was exhilarating as she picked up speed, feeling laughter bubbling up while she was making herself spin and twirl as she circled around Nelly and Sofia, if at a reasonable distance, as her confidence had returned. She’d missed skating, both on and off the ice, and she felt like a duck having come back to water, wondering if she ought to try something more adventurous or not.

Her breathing was a little erratic as she’d gone at full speed for a moment there, so she began slowing down to a leisurely pace as she approached the other two campers. Though part of it was also the increased heart rate from the panic of socialising, especially given she’d never met one of them. She was still panting a little as she spoke, flashing a half-apologetic smile at them.

”Sorry, I just got so excited by this. It’s been too long since I was last on the ice, and I couldn’t help myself. Hello!” she waved at Nelly and held out her hand to Sofia before reconsidering ”Sorry again, I was going to shake hands, but I'd worry we’d go tumbling. Nice to meet you, I’m not good at this but I’m Veronica. Hello, hi!”


Interactions .....|..... Nelly and Sofia............... Mentions .....|..... Andy, Trinity, Heath and Iliana............... Collabs .....|..... None

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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Sir Sparky
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Sir Sparky That Guy

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B45F06 .....|..... outfit .....|..... Cabin> Party



Mason visited Jenn’s site. He worried all the camp refurbishments, particularly the wall might’ve desecrated it but he should have known Andy would keep it in tact and secluded. Normally he gave her updates or spoke to her but there was nothing good to report between Alex not so much as getting a smack on the wrist and the box. As for his Andy crisis, this might’ve been the time Jenn would give him her unwelcome advice too if it bothered her enough and abuse him lovingly to set things right or lose her. She’d paint a nice harsh black and white picture for him. He sighed and pat her stone. “Miss you.”

He returned to his cabin for the rest of the day.

Mason showered and didn’t give his clothes much thought for the party. He grabbed whatever was sitting there available and left his cabin until he caught movement down the path of a blonde and brunette. Andy was in some black dress and Trinity in nice jeans and top.

Not to mention how comfortable the weather was now. Mason glanced down and doubled back into his cabin.
“Fuck.” He rifled through clothes and clothes trying to think if he even had anything remotely dressy or that showed some effort for a party. Then, like a miracle he found something. Mason put on some cologne with it and left his cabin once more.

He didn’t hurry to join the party. Festivities were drinking and socializing and while he was an ok drinker, socializing took more effort. Much more the combination of socializing while drunk. When the field was in view, Mason saw horror. Andy had littered the field with winter themed activities, making a whole sled hill and skating rink. Nelly certainly looked to enjoy it at least. Mason breathed through his nose. Activities were supposed to be a good thing and it was an above and beyond effort. Good for most the camp.

He went closer and the girls were at the bar. Give or take another body or two. There was a food table. Music. A little game area going with someone in a mini dress, what must have been Evelyn by the red hair, Wes and some guy. Mason stared at the blonde in the outstanding dress then glanced away. Attention grabbing wasn’t usually his style.

He saw Sylas and had half a mind to accompany him but some other red head sweeped to his side. That left the other side of the bar. Andy or not, he needed his own drink. So he crept towards them hands buried in his pockets.

He approached. He let his gaze float over Andy steadily. It wasn’t just a black dress, it was some light material , fancy patterns and flowers, cloaking over something darker and more huggy underneath. “Andy. You look breath taking.”

Inside he’d rather have embraced her, kissed her cheek or something but he knew better to keep his distance for now.

He glanced to Trinity briefly and nodded. He even bothered to raise a hand to Heath.

He leant on the bar grabbing his own drink. Mason knew Trinity would have a mouthful for him or fist depending on what she heard. So he’d get that ugly out of the way first, lingering by her. Let Andy enjoy her night without…him drama for a bit. He planned to talk to talk things out with her but he couldn’t tell how it would go so let her be and enjoy the festivities she created.


interactions ....|.... Andy, Heath, Trinity ............... mentions ....|.... Sylas, Nelly, Evelyn, Fiona, Chariselle, Wes, Elysium ............... collabs ....|.... none
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Mjolnir
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Mjolnir sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʏsɪs ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ

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#bd1664 ....|..... outfit .....|..... party


The shots still burned Andy’s esophagus. Considering she had an empty stomach, it wasn’t long before the alcohol started taking effect. Her shoulders relaxed, her laughs were more genuine, and her smile had regained some of the light it had lost those past months. It was subtle and not likely something anyone would notice. Her cheeks flushed as the liquor worked its way through her system and warmed her blood. She had been tense for so long that she forgot what it was like to relax and just… have fun.

She had zero plans of drinking. Andy’s track record with parties and alcohol gave her good reason to avoid both. She couldn’t blame Mason’s confusion behind her throwing the New Year’s Eve celebration. Last time there was a party she nearly died, and the time before that? She made a drunken decision that she'll regret the rest of her life. But Trinity had other plans, even if well founded. So, really, it was all her fault.

Andy turned toward the bar scanning all the available drinks for something non-alcoholic before Trinity tried pawning another shot off on her. As she grabbed a chilled can of Dr. Pepper, she looked up and noticed the first arrival stepping out into the field. It was one of the new campers. She didn’t get a chance to talk to him, but he seemed vaguely familiar. He looked something like what she imagined a Grecian God should look like, tall and tan with long dark hair and a well maintained beard to match. There was a friendly warmth about the way he carried himself and his easy smile, like a self-help barista who would give solid advice over a rich cup of imported coffee. He was handsome in that casual way men rarely had to try. He carried a tray of something over to the food table and while setting it down he waved at them.

She raised her free hand and waved in return with a welcoming smile. With her soda in grasp, Andy turned back to Trinity. She pulled the tab and released the can’s pressure with a hiss. She took a sip then wiped a stray drip from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes drifted over to the new guy who lingered by some of the yard games. "Should we go say hi?" she asked while holding back a small burp from carbonation.

Before Trinity could answer one way or the other, Evelyn made her way over to the bar to fetch herself a drink. "Evening ladies. How are we today?"

"Damn girl," Andy blurted out, half choking on her drink when she took in the red head’s stunning white cocktail dress. "You look hot," she admitted with an approving nod of her head.

"So good. And only gonna get better. Right?" Trinity replied, actually answering Evelyn’s question, while nudging Andy, goading her into agreeing or loosening up. Probably both.

"Ow." Andy grimaced and rubbed her arm slightly. "Easy up, muscles. I’m fragile," she added with a playful smack to Trinity’s arm.

"The night's young," Evelyn said with a smile before parting ways and eventually joining the new guy over by the cornhole.

Andy managed to take one more sip of her drink before more people wandered over, this time Iliana and Heath. "Evening, Andy and Trinity. I hope you both have recovered fully. Andy, you did an amazing job setting up for the party. Anyway, I am going to try talking with more people. Heath, I'll be fine, you enjoy yourself."

"Well enough, anyway," Andy replied. Her gaze fell to her exposed left arm covered in jagged harsh scars from wrist to elbow. The corners of her lips pulled into a tight lipped smile as she self consciously hid her arm behind her back. "Thanks, Iliana," she acknowledged the compliment with a more genuine smile before the girl wandered off, leaving behind her brother.

Andy’s gaze drifted over to Heath. He was a nice enough guy, but after he gave her the third degree during 7 minutes in heaven, she kept her distance from him. While much of her personal drama was aired out for the whole camp to see, that didn’t mean she took kindly to someone shoving their nose in her business either. She’d be nice to him, but it was unlikely she’d seek him out of her own volition. She wasn’t a fan of nosy people.

"Andy, I just want to thank you for being a great leader these past few months. Also, this is a dumb question but do either of you know what is up with the temperature. I just can't wrap my head around it."

Taken aback by Heath’s first comment, Andy did a small doubletake. "Oh, thanks." She shrugged her shoulders while taking a sip from her soda. "Camp Leader magic," she answered vaguely with a wave of her free hand. She wasn’t sure if letting people know there was a control panel that let the leader mess with the camp’s magic was the smartest idea. So rather than sharing that information with some of the camp’s more talkative bunch, she kept the details to herself. "It’ll go back to normal shortly after midnight. It’s just for the party."

Andy looked around aimlessly until her gaze found Wes trying to sneak up on them. He motioned for to stay quiet and not give up the gambit. While the idea of spoiling his fun was intriguing, she was more interested to see how Trinity would react to being startled. The daughter of Ares had just poured two more shots, one presumably for Andy, when Wes snuck around and scooped the glass out of Trinity’s hand like Scylla snatched up sailors.

She averted her gaze and sipped her drink when he started hitting on Trinity. Andy was happy for them both, genuinely. They seemed so much in love that it made her own heart ache with a sad longing. She wanted what they had. For a brief time she thought she might have that someday with Mason. While their relationship, even when they were friends, was always a rollercoaster, it never lacked passion. There was a brief time after the trials and before Pandora’s box that things felt like they were on the right path. But now? She had no idea.

Wes’s antics and departure had distracted her long enough that Andy didn’t notice Mason’s arrival. One minute he wasn’t there and then he was. She watched him slowly approach. He hated parties, and to the best of her knowledge, hated wearing anything that wasn’t casual. So, seeing him approach wearing clothes that were more formal than anything she had seen him in before, caught her by surprise. He wore a dark blue dress shirt just tight enough to accentuate his muscles. The top button was undone and the sleeves were rolled up, which always somehow made those shirts look way hotter. He even had it tucked in with a belt. She was impressed and definitely looking.

Her gaze lingered long enough that the only thing that pulled her out of it was catching Mason also staring. "Andy. You look breathtaking."

Andy’s cheeks flushed while a sweet and genuine smile graced her lips. "Thanks, Mase," she replied quietly.

While she half expected him to get his drink and leave, Mason actually stayed. He lingered near Trinity, leaning against the bar as if waiting… for something. That’s when it dawned on Andy. One thing she had in abundance was overprotective friends, Trinity and Mason being two prime examples. She couldn’t recall if the daughter of Ares had given him a piece of her mind since… everything, but the way he waited and braced himself for an ear full said it was overdue.

Rather than awkwardly standing around as the two closest people in her life talk about her in the third person, Andy opted to remove herself. She had a good enough idea how the conversation would go, there was no reason to linger awkwardly. "And that’s my cue."

Before leaving, Andy made her way over to Mason, stopping less than a foot in front of him. She held his dark gaze for a long moment. "You look handsome," she said barely above a whisper so only he could hear. Her free hand lightly rested on his chest as she leaned forward to place a tender kiss on his cheek. It wasn’t long, but the brief contact still caused a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Her hand remained on him as she started walking away, only slipping free when the distance grew too great.

It took some self control not to look back at Mason as she walked away, but she managed… somehow. Instead Andy scanned those who had arrived at the party trying to decide what she would do. There was Wes, Evelyn and two others lingering near yard games, but four was usually the optimal number for that so she wasn’t going to barge in there. Then there was Duke and Iliana over by the food. Her feet started carrying her in that direction until she saw a tall, muscular redhead wandering around on his own. Her stint as leader might have been short lived, but she still felt it was her job, as any good camper, to help the newcomers feel welcome.

Andy slowly approached the male with a smile and friendly wave. "Hey," she said as she joined him. "I know it’s overwhelming, all the new faces. But I promise they’re harmless… Most of them," she added in a playful tone. She shifted her soda into her left hand then held out her right in greeting. "I’m Andy, by the way. You might have caught that during my whole spiel this morning, sorry." She laughed awkwardly. "In my defense I hate public speaking and there were way too many people for me to remember who all was there."



interactions ....|.... elysium, trinity, evelyn, iliana, heath, mason & leo ............... mentions ....|.... wes, chariselle & duke ............... collabs ....|.... none
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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Mjolnir
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Mjolnir sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʏsɪs ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ

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..........................#8a9a5b ....|..... outfit .....|..... his cabin > party ........................ #c7b29b ....|..... outfit .....|..... her cabin > anatoliy's cabin > party .....|..... rocco


Sloane had been fully dressed and sitting at the foot of her bed for several minutes. She wasn’t particularly concerned with trying to impress anyone or turn heads, so she found an outfit that looked decent enough for a New Year’s party. She wore a beige long sleeved shirt, beige boots and a beige, blue and orange tartan skirt that she even had a little matching bow for Rocco that she pinned on his collar. By her account they both looked party ready. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and leave.

The entire time she got ready, Sloane constantly flipped back and forth between going or just staying in. Who would really miss her anyway? Ace and Elysium were the first people she had talked to in days and there were going to be so many others at the party she doubted they would notice her absence. It was a good argument. Sound. Just one big gaping problem… How did she expect to make friends and not be lonely if she constantly remained shut away in her cabin? And that was the endless loop her mind ran through. Did she make a decision? Of course not.

She began to favor staying in her cabin enough that she leaned down and started unzipping one of her boots. Rocco knew that meant they weren’t going to leave, like he was very excited to do, or he saw a squirrel. Either way, his head cocked to one side then he darted out the dog door. "Rocco!" she called after him, immediately zipping her boot back up. Sloane didn’t bother with a coat as she ran after him out into the snow.

Rocco was on a mission because by the time Sloane got outside he was nowhere to be seen. The only way she knew to hunt him down was to follow his paw prints in the fresh snow. It wasn’t until she had reached the main trail that she realized she wasn’t cold. She ran out in such a hurry, she was aware she didn’t grab a jacket but she had expected to be cold already. Yet the only chill she felt was from the snow that landed along the skin of her bare collarbones and legs. Her pace slowed for a brief moment as she tried to understand the strange weather anomaly. It was… warm. Like a nice day on the cusp of summer and fall, but there was snow? She could have stood there and pondered it for the rest of the day, but all her loligagging was doing was letting Rocco get further away.

Between the snow and her heels, Sloane struggled to run at a decent pace. As each second ticked by she started to accept that the majority of her night would be tracking a dog. It seemed he had a different plan than the two options she was already debating. It wasn’t far from her cabin that she heard a bark telling her she was heading in the right direction. His tracks led her to the right then trailed off the path between some trees. She came upon what looked like a mix between a tree house or a park ranger’s tower. And, of course, Rocco was already halfway up the stairs, sprinting to the top.

"Rocco!" she called after him again, but it fell on deaf ears. Sloane cursed under her breath as she followed after him and started up the stairs. By the time she reached the top Rocco had a small mouse looking creature cornered between the doorframe and the door. He wasn’t attacking it or barking, just aggressively sniffing the little creature enough that it scooted it around. All the while his tail wagged furiously like he had just made a new best friend. "Rocco, no!" she hissed under her breath, trying to resolve the situation without disturbing whoever lived in the cabin.

At first the noises didn’t bother him or pierce through his sleep though they started to. Ip was beginning to yell for help with the anxiety filled lungs of a very small rodent. Panicked squeaking was heard by everyone else. Mumbling out the words, ‘Ip…’ Anatoliy huffed out. ‘Quiet down…’ but then everything went quiet which was what woke him up.

She squeezed her way between Rocco and the door, attempting to create some space and get her dog to back up. Sloane crouched down and gently scooped up the small animal into her delicate hands. She used her index finger to gently pet it, doing her best to try and calm it. "Where do you belong?" she asked barely above a whisper. She didn’t have a clue what kind of animal this was, nor its habitat or where it came from.

It was too quiet and he jumped out of bed. Slamming against the floor by tripping over his feet, ‘Дерьмо!’ could be heard muffled behind the door.

Shit!

Hearing the stumble and—was that Russian?—Sloane started to panic looking down at the small terrified animal. She didn’t want to leave it scared high up on this deck where it could potentially fall or become prey to a bird. "Look what you did," she cursed under her breath at Rocco.

That stumble was mildly annoying but he bounced onto his feet and began looking for Ip, ‘Ip, where are you?’ he called out to the little rodent but he didn’t get a reply. Was he outside? Did his cries for help sound like they were outside? That was when he noticed a figure outside of his door through the blinds and he held his breath. Why is someone outside? He looked around his cabin as he was becoming more aware of his surroundings and more welcoming to the waking world. However, he was suspicious. Did he do something wrong? Was this cabin already taken by someone else? There were plenty of thoughts running wild through his mind while he quietly stepped forward.

Grabbing for the door, he let his hand stay on the knob, and he thought about it. Is this person dangerous? It was a decent question to have when one wasn’t properly dressed — a towel around his waist.

Breathing out with a little bit of anxiety, he opened the door knob, and came face to face with a dark haired girl, a dog, and the girl was holding Ip. Without controlling his expression, his face twisted with confusion, ‘Why do you have Ip?’ His face and tone sounded so accusing as if she was kidnapping a child.

Sloane gasped, startled when the door opened when she stood nearly up against it. Her eyes widened as she found herself inches away from a man she hadn’t seen before. Not only were they both within close proximity of each other but he also appeared practically naked with only a towel to protect his modesty. She gulped, unable to keep her eyes from wandering, noticing his various tattoos, muscles and naked—focus. Her right hand cupped the creature now known as Ip while her left reached out to take his wrist, turning his hand to create a little bowl with his palm. "I’m sorry. My dog was curious and scared him." She gently passed off the small animal into his available palm. "He’s gentle and never would have hurt… Ip was it?"

At first, he wasn’t fully aware of why the woman was touching him even if she had Ip in her hands. It didn’t connect until the furry little beast was in his hands and he blinked while staring at Ip — his facial expression changing. It was one that had more focus and thought to it even though there were barely any functioning gears behind his stormy blue eyes. He nodded, ‘Da, it’s Ip,’ he confirmed.

With her hands free, Sloane immediately started back away trying to put as much room between herself and that awkward situation as possible. She smiled awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I’m really sorry for disturbing you." Before she could make herself look like an even bigger idiot, she turned toward the stairs.

Then it was registering that she was apologizing — she had apologized twice — and he stood up a little more straight while his eyes left Ip and locked onto Sloane. ‘I’m sorry…,’ he began with a whisper under his breath. He wasn’t even sure if he was saying it to Ip, the girl, or both of them.

"Come on, Rocco," she said, annoyed while motioning for the dog to go down ahead of her. Taking her very first step down the stairs her shoe slipped on the mixture of snow, slush and ice causing her to lose her balance. Her hands frantically reached for the railings and just barely managed to catch herself before she fell.

Before he could get anything else out, he watched her weight shift, and within those few seconds. He was able to put down Ip right on the railing and put his hands right under her armpits. ‘Woah,’ Anatoliy said in somewhat of a sleepy voice. Without issue, he lifted her up in a similar way to how a parent or older sibling would lift a toddler and he made sure she was hanging there for a second before turning and putting her down on the porch again so she was away from the stairs. ‘You should be more careful…,’ he glanced at where she slipped. ‘That’s a lot of stairs to fall down or a very far fall.

Anatoliy looked back at Sloane, ‘Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?’ That was when his face showed a tad bit of concern in it.

Sloane didn’t squirm or fight against his help. If anything she was taken by surprise and sort of froze while he moved her like a stumbling child. By the time he set her down her face was beet red which she promptly buried into her hands out of embarrassment. "Thank you. I’m fine," she mumbled into her palms. Her hands slowly ran down her face as she allowed herself to look up at him briefly before fixing her gaze on her feet. "Stupid shoes." She wasn’t planning on chasing after her dog or doing much of anything beyond getting to the party in those boots.

After a moment of catching her breath she sighed. "I’m sorry, again. I’m going to go now, much slower and using the railing," she added with a nod of her head as she once again turned toward the stairs, this time with a significant amount of caution.

He could feel his feet getting cold the longer he stood in the slushy snow but he was more focused on the strange girl to care at the moment. Taking a few steps back to give her space as well. The man was beginning to fidget with his hands because he didn’t want to bother her. ‘It’s okay. Accidents happen,’ he got those words out but they weren’t really what he wanted to say. His body began to feel the nipping chill too.

Why are you not wearing snow boots or something built better for this type of weather?’ Anatoliy was a bit curious as to why she was wearing boots like that in the slushy snow. Oddly enough… he noticed it felt a bit warmer too but he was thinking that was in his head.

Then he reached over for Ip who was on the railing, ‘Sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to set you down like that,’ he explained while carefully bending over and setting Ip inside of the door of the cabin before standing back up.

Sloane stopped at the top of the stairs with her hand resting on the railing. She glanced over her shoulder at him with a confused expression. "I thought a New Year’s party called for more than a down coat and galoshes," she replied with a weak smile. "Plus, I wasn’t planning on chasing my dog up a couple flights of stairs," she added with a shrug. While he might not have cared or been aware he was standing around in only a towel, she was still very aware. She did everything in her power to look only in his eyes or focus on trying to leave again. Maybe he had the right idea and didn’t plan on going to the party, but considering she was already out at that point, she figured she’d at least make an appearance.

Anatoliy looked confused then looked around and noticed how the sun was setting and everything else. He seemed confused, ‘The New Years Party isn’t for a few hours… right?’ this seemed to throw him off completely. Then he looked at the cabin stairs which were a few flights, ‘Yeah… sorry about that… My cabin seemed to want to be up high like a hunting tower,’ he explained.

And I actually don’t know where they are holding the New Years Party, I’m kind of new here,’ he began to rub the back of his neck with his free hand. ‘If you want to wait inside, let me get dressed. Could you show me the way?

She paused at the top of the stairs with her hand resting on the railing. The snow beneath her palm slowly melted and chilled her skin. Her fingers lightly tapped the cool metal as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Sloane already felt utterly embarrassed being caught on his porch with her dog scaring his… whatever, then she nearly fell on top of all of it. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole and die, but she also hated being rude. "I’ve already caused you enough problems," she replied, half looking back at him over her shoulder. "And I can’t leave Rocco outside alone. He’ll probably find another animal to scare half to death."

Anatoliy shrugged, ‘I don’t see any problems to be honest,’ he smiled at her. There was nothing that was bothering him, he was shocked at first when waking up, but other than that… no harm, no foul. ‘Rocco can come inside. Animals are more welcome than humans in my cabin,’ he smiled with his eyes when he said this — it was true. Animals were more comfortable to be around and they judged you way less than humans did. Unless it was for good reason.

Picking up Ip again, ‘Also, Ip doesn’t mind. He was just scared at first. Isn’t that right Ip?’ he stepped inside while carrying Ip over to the carpet and setting him on it. Ip was squeaking away. Anatoliy was nodding his head, ‘Da, I know. Animals that are way bigger than you are scary but it’s okay. Rocco is a friend. Isn’t that right, Rocco?’ Anatoliy wasn’t talking to Sloane at this moment. He was looking at Rocco as if the dog would answer him perfectly fine.

Sloane hadn’t followed him in yet, instead lingering a bit on the porch for a moment, watching as he spoke to the tiny Ip and her dog. Whether or not she was going to make another excuse to try and leave, Rocco slipped between her legs and the doorframe, poking his head into the cabin. His head cocked curiously to the side, causing his ears to flop with the movement. "Friends? I like friends. I never met little friend before," he replied to the man. Meanwhile all Sloane heard was barking as the little pup trotted into the cabin, looking at Ip with an excited curiosity.

"Rocco," she called after the dog quietly, but his short attention span made anything she said go in one ear and out the other. Sloane sighed in defeat then did the best to tap the snow off her boots before entering. She made sure to close the door behind her. She only took a couple steps inside but still stood awkwardly near the door. To be fair, she didn’t know this guy, and the Gods were dicks, so it was possible for any of their children to be serial killers. Although, she doubted someone who preferred animals was dangerous. She still felt awkward and didn’t know how to act in someone else’s cabin… Especially someone she didn’t know.

Anatoliy looked at her as she stood by the door, he gestured to the bed, and the little sitting area with two chairs and a small table. ‘You can sit wherever. I don’t mind,’ he was trying to be friendly and welcoming even though it was a bit odd when he thought about it.

I’ll just step into my closet for a minute and get dressed,’ this was when he completely absorbed the situation — this poor girl has been interacting with him and he’s only been in a towel. ‘I’m sorry that I’m in a towel…,’ he mentioned while heading to his closet, flicking the light on, and shutting the door.

"It’s ok," she said as she looked around and eventually wandered over to the sitting area. Sloane ran her hands along the back of her legs, holding her skirt slat against her backside as she sat down. She crossed her ankles, tucking them a bit under the chair and rested her hands in her lap. As she waited, her gaze skimmed his cabin. It was small compared to others around camp, but still bigger than her own. It was cozy and didn’t overcompensate.

Within a short amount of time, he opened the door, and spun around, ‘There! I am dressed now!’ He was wearing a blue decorative shirt and faded dark orange pants.

Her gaze had just fallen to her hands as she twiddled her fingers when his closet door reopened. Sloane didn’t know this guy or what he usually dressed like, but she was still somehow a bit surprised. It was more clothes than a towel, but she could still see his nipples. So how much more was it really? It definitely was the safer option though and far less likely for accidental flashing. She smiled slightly and nodded her head. "Yeah a towel and alcohol would have probably ended badly," she said with a bit of sarcasm in her tone..

A mischievous expression came onto his face, one with somewhat of a charismatic smirk, ‘I don’t mind people seeing me naked,’ he confessed. ‘Though I know other people like to give their consent to that type of thing and showing up nude to a party isn’t proper,’ his voice was playful and teasing. He knew he shouldn’t show up to places naked so he would refrain from that behavior… hopefully.

Also, do you think it’s that type of party? A drinking-drinking party? Or do you think it’ll be more calm?’ he was honestly curious as he roamed around his cabin before finding eyeliner and mascara. Walking up to a mirror in the cabin, he began to apply it.

"Last party we had there was alcohol, 7 minutes in heaven… and a camper was nearly killed by another. They don’t lack for entertainment if nothing else." Sloane watched him continue to get ready, putting on some eye makeup. Perhaps it was because her father kept her and her brother in high society circles, but it was rare for her to see a man with any sort of makeup. Not that she mined. It just wasn’t common. She leaned back in the chair, watching Rocco out of the corner of her eye. His tail never stopped wagging as he laid on his stomach, occasionally booping Ip with his nose. "I take it you like drinking parties?"

Anatoliy nodded his head while hearing all of that — Campers tried killing each other? — that made him wonder if he should show up to the party or not. Hopefully that was a last time thing and no one was going to try to kill each other. ‘Sounds like a lovely time,’ he chuckled somewhat nervously. The game sounded fun, 7 minutes in heaven, but he didn’t care to play that either.

Depends,’ he shrugged his shoulders while putting the mascara and eyeliner away. His stormy blue eyes glanced over to Sloane. ‘I enjoy drinking but it really depends on how the vibe of the party is. I don’t want to get shit faced if I am the only one getting shit faced and if everyone else is being mild. I might not drink at all,’ Anatoliy confessed because he bounced off from everyone else’s behavior when it came to parties though he had his own guidelines… most of the time.

"I’m sure there will be plenty who get drunk. Blair is usually a safe bet." Her hands absentmindedly ran along her skirt, straightening out any creases or folds. Sloane wouldn’t be caught dead partying with Blair, but she would get drunk, without a doubt. "I’m more of a wallflower myself," she added nonchalantly, almost like it was common knowledge. She was used to disappearing into the background and going unnoticed. And while sometimes it left her lonely, when it came to parties she didn’t mind. She’d rather watch than partake.

Then he realized he hadn’t introduced himself, ‘I’m Anatoliy Voronin, by the way,’ he added with somewhat of a nervousness. ‘I didn’t mean to not introduce myself until now. I know… a bit rude, but I just woke up,’ he sounded like he found humor in that.

"I think if anyone was rude, it was me showing up on your doorstep," she contradicted with her own shy smile. "I’m Sloane Astor, and you’ve already met Rocco," she added, motioning towards the puppy that ran around trying to play with Ip.

Hearing the last name, he seemed amused, ‘You have the same last name as ‘trrraitorrr politician’’ Anatoliy’s Russian accent went thick because he was mimicking what his father would say. ‘Sorry, I just thought it was funny. My father always had this politician he bitched about. Vladimir Astor or something like that. He said he was not really Russian because he had a German surname then moved to America. So he was a traitor,’ he chuckled.

I was never really interested but I loved how passionate my father was about the motherland,’ Anatoliy confessed with a shrug of his shoulders and a half-cocked awkward smile.

Sloane adjusted in the chair, crossing her right leg over her left and resting her hands on top of one another on her knee. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before when they still lived in Russia. But it had been some years since anyone had a clue who her father was or what he did for that matter. "That would be my father," she admitted as her gaze slowly drifted over to him. "There is no love lost between us. Although I’d recommend not saying such things around my brother. He looks up to the man," she added in a droll tone. Her shoulders shrugged slightly. It was what it was. Although, she supposed being favored by the Goddess parent over the politician gave her some bragging rights. Not that she wanted them.

Oh…,’ he was internally cursing himself for saying anything. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,’ his half-ass smile faded into a neutral expression. He wanted to say something sassy about not caring if her brother looked up to their father or not — he didn’t care. Look up to whoever you wish… that doesn’t mean other people have to validate that for you.

"It’s fine. I don’t mind," she reassured him.

Anatoliy walked over to the door and grabbed the handle, ‘Ready to go to the party?’ he asked while reaching for his guitar and stringing it over himself.

"Sure," she replied and slowly stood up. "Rocco," she called after the pup, getting his attention. He whined once or twice, seeming more interested in staying behind with his new friend rather than going. But with one snap of Sloane’s fingers he was at her side and ready to go. She looked back at Anatoliy, noting the guitar slung on his back. "Plan on playing?"

He nodded while opening the door and gesturing for her to go out first and slipping on some nice dress shoes that matched his attire, ‘‘I do plan on playing. I don’t know what type of vibe this party will be so I am going prepared,’ when she stepped out and Rocco followed, Anatoliy closed the door behind all of them.

Sloane stepped back onto the deck making sure to usher Rocco along with her. The dog had no hesitation taking off back down the stairs, his back legs slipping out from under him every few steps. But once he reached the bottom he lingered in the area trying to catch snowflakes. "I love music," she admitted as she took a step out of the way toward the railing so he could descend the treacherous stairs first. "Can you play me something sometime?" she asked genuinely. Her eyes widened for a brief moment, shocked at her own forwardness. But if he could play, especially well, she’d love to hear it.

‘‘Watch your step this time,’ Anatoliy went around Sloane while going down the stairs, he moved the slush off the stairs so it would fall to the floor below. ‘And yeah, I can play you something at the party if you want or any time. You’re always welcome to knock on my door.’ He casually replied while making sure the stairs were more cleared off so she wouldn’t slip.

‘‘So you are from Russia? Do you know how to speak the language?’ he was curious.

She followed after him slowly, being sure to step wherever he cleared a spot or shoo away some snow with her own foot. It wasn’t a fast descent, but it was much safer. There was only one time where she felt her shoe lose traction. Her right hand held tightly to the railing while her left grabbed his shoulder to brace herself. "Sorry," Sloane whispered as she let go of him. Her cheeks flushed from her repeated clumsiness.

Anatoliy glanced back at Sloane when he felt weight on his left shoulder, he seemed to tense up, and not in a defensive way but in a way that offered Sloane more support. ‘At this rate, it would be safer to just carry you down the stairs,’ he teased her with a mischievousness in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

All her tension faded once they reached the ground and she no longer had to worry about looking like a newborn foal. Sloane cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I do. As a teen we moved to America when my father became an ambassador. Enough time in an American High School rid me of most of my accent. But it still shows up from time to time."

Once they got to the bottom, he looked at her to make sure she was alright and survived the descent of the stairs, ‘Ah, Americans are scared of the accent anyways,’ he waved his hand. ‘A reason I don’t talk in mine. Most people would always look nervous at first,’ his voice still had a playfulness to it.

You can always talk in your accent with me, I don’t mind, I promise. It won’t scare me off,’ he stepped a few steps away from the stairs before turning back to Sloane because he realized… he had no idea where he was going.

Sloane laughed softly at his comment. When he turned to look back at her she nodded her head to the left of the arena before she started leading them in that direction with Rocco at her heels. "I don’t really have control of it. But I imagine if I spend time around you it’ll start showing up again. Accents are weird like that."

They definitely can be,’ his normal wasn’t even very Americanized and it was a waterdown version of what his true Russian accent was. There were subtle sounds that he’d never get rid of due to growing up in Russia and being around a father that primarily spoke Russian and didn’t know English very well.

Luckily, it seemed like Anatoliy’s cabin was a straight shot to the Activities Field. They had barely stepped out onto the path and Sloane could see a sliver of lights around the edge of the stables a fair bit ahead. She pointed in that direction while looking over at him. "I think that’s the party," she said as they started in that direction. "Normally the parties have been at the beach. But given it’s winter, I guess the center of camp makes more sense."

As he followed her, ‘Oh? Is it outside?’ Anatoliy was surprised but he remembered how it warmed up so much compared to when he arrived — there must be magic or something controlling the weather. He wasn’t surprised there was magic that could control the weather when he thought about it. ‘The beach sounds fun too. I doubt anyone would want to go skinny dipping in a frozen lake tho,’ he looked towards where the water would have been — the ocean and the beach — ‘You guys probably have magic to heat that up, right?’ Now he was curious. If they had magic to heat the environment up. They had to have magic to heat the ocean and beach up, right?

"Oh, I have no idea. Probably," she shrugged, honestly having no idea. "I know the camp has magic, but I don’t have a clue how it works or if it can be controlled. That’s probably some special leader knowledge or something." Sloane’s brows furrowed as she thought of other possibilities, not that she was particularly interested in skinny dipping, but she wasn’t going to stop other’s fun. "I’m sure between the children of Hecate, Poseidon, Hephaestus or Hestia it could be accomplished."

Anatoliy smirked, ‘Sounds like I might have to talk to a few others,’ he said with ambition. As they continued to get closer to the party, he looked at Sloane, ‘So who are the camp leaders? Are there already people designated to that position or do we have to fight for it or something?’ His voice didn’t sound all too serious but mainly playful and curious. He was just wondering how everything worked and Sloane seemed to have more knowledge than he did.

"There’s only a son of Hephaestus, that I know of. But there could be others now." She offered him the information openly. If he wanted to orchestrate a group skinny dip, who was she to stop him?

That was somewhat…unhopeful to hear. There was only a son of Hephaestus that she knew about but there could be others — well… — he thought at that. There wasn’t much hope for a skinny dipping fun time in the ocean. He would just have to wait until spring and summer, he supposed.

"Oh, um." How did she answer that question? Sloane was quiet for a moment trying to recall what she knew. It wasn’t like she was very friendly or familiar with the previous leaders to know the exact goings on but she had an idea. "I think the Gods decide but I’m not entirely sure. First there was a son of Zeus, but he left camp. Then there was Poseidon’s son, who died a couple months ago. Now, Andy has kind of stepped up in the absence of a leader. But, according to this morning’s announcement one of the new campers is our new leader."

Hearing about how the God’s seemed to filter their children — Zeus, the death of Poseidon’s son, Andy stepped up in the absence — that sounded lovely. ‘Well, no reason to think too much on that,’ he shrugged and waved it off. ‘I was just curious but let’s not think of such things,’ he added because he didn’t want to think of people dying. He understood that death wasn’t avoidable but his first day at camp… hearing about death wasn’t a pleasant thing.

How about you? Other than being extremely enthusiastic about parties and not at all wildly embarrassed because Rocco puts you into awkward situations. What do you do around here?’ Anatoliy glanced over to her, his stormy blue eyes locking from the side to her brown eyes. His tone was teasing when he said all of that.

Sloane laughed softly, raising her right hand to scratch the back of her head awkwardly. "Rocco is usually good," she glared down at the pup then rolled her eyes. To be fair he was a puppy and there was a rather large uptick of demigods that flooded the camp within the past couple hours. She wasn’t really mad at Rocco, just embarrassed. "Me? I was on bed rest for a while. So, mostly reading. But otherwise there’s usually a lot of training, which I’m terrible at."

Anatoliy nodded in agreement, ‘I can tell that he’s a wonderful and amazing boy, isn’t that right Rocco?’ he patted his thighs to try and cause excitement in the dog. He loved animals. It was great to see that some people had animals at camp.

Rocco barked and spun in a circle with excitement. His tail wagged fast enough to make little snow clouds swirl around by his butt as he jumped up on Anatoliy’s leg. "I’m just glad he seems happy," she said with a small hint of sadness in her tone, contradicted by the timid smile upon her face.

Bed rest?’ he seemed concerned at first. ‘I’m glad you are not on bed rest anymore and you can get out and do a few things,’ he smiled. ‘Mhm…,’ he replied because of his thoughts. ‘What do you read? I’m not much of a reader myself but I enjoy when people read to me or watch T.V. and movies together,’ the man confessed.

"My stitches needed time to heal," she said with a shrug, as if it was no big deal, just a matter of fact. "Currently I’m rereading Pride and Prejudice. But I like period dramas, romance, and fantasy. Sometimes science fiction, but more of the post-apocalyptic and less of the futuristic space stuff." As she spoke, Sloane counted the genres on her fingers, cross referencing them with the books she often read to make sure she didn’t leave anything out.

He nodded, ‘Why did you need stitches?’ he was concerned but so far — there had been death, people leaving, and everything else it seemed like so why wouldn’t she have stitches? — He found that they were at the edge of the area that they needed to be for the party.

Sloane’s pace slowed as they rounded the stables, the party fully coming into view. "The incident that our previous leader died during, injured a lot of us." She turned her back to him and swept her long brunette hair over her right shoulder. "I broke my wrist, had a minor concussion, a bite or something on my leg and—" She pointed to the tips of three scars that just barely poked out of the collar of her shirt on the left side of her back. "—a claw slash down my back." After giving a moment to look, she turned around to face him. "Don’t worry. I’m all healed up now," she reassured him with an innocent smile.

He glanced at her while she explained everything that happened to her with the last leader dying. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you…,’ he started off with some shock. Artemis barely told him anything about this place, she did say a few things, but it was most general descriptors. Nothing important or magic like deaths, leaving, and severe life threatening injuries. ‘Well…,’ he flicked his tongue to his teeth to make a click of a sound. ‘Sounds like I’ll have to train even more so I can make sure I and others don’t get hurt.

And he decided to continue the conversation about the book instead of trying to dwell on past events. She probably didn’t want to be reminded of her injuries and there was no reason for him to try and act like he was some impressive individual that had prior training — though he did have prior training. ‘Isn’t there a film about that book? The one with Keira Knightley? My dad had the biggest crush on her and loved her in the movies she was in. I’m pretty sure I watched that movie way too many times,’ he laughed about it but he honestly could tell you what they were going to say before they said it because he did watch it so much.

"It’s one of my favorites," she replied with a childlike giddy in her step.

Then he thought about it, a little more, ‘Why would Rocco not be happy?’ That confused him. At first, it didn’t catch on, but his brain was starting to actually consider those words.

"Rocco wasn’t originally mine," Sloane admitted as they came to a stop at the edge of the Activities Field. While she spoke to Anatoliy her gaze skimmed the impressive setup Andy must have put together, a sledding hill, ice skating rink, fire pit, a dancing area, plus various tables and seats… and a bar, of course. She then looked back over to her present company. "His previous owner, Liam—" her voice caught her throat when she mentioned his name, realizing it was the first time she had said it outloud since he left. "—he left after that whole incident." Her right hand waved in the air like she was brushing off the details of the incident itself. "So I took Rocco in," she concluded with a smile, reaching down to pet the dog’s head affectionately.

Anatoliy’s face twisted out of pure natural reaction when she was explaining what happened around Rocco staying with her. ‘What a complete douchebag. Who could ever leave their loved one behind?’ That was terrible to hear. He never understood why people would leave their animals behind. It kind of reminded him of his apartment, he’d always go out back and give the stray cats tuna and food, and everyone knows the majority of them came from families moving and leaving them behind. People were so… cruel.

His first comment actually brought forth a genuine laugh deep from her gut. There was something cathartic about hearing someone else call Liam an asshole besides herself. He was right. The truth of it hit her harder than she had expected. How could someone leave a loved one behind? How could Liam leave them behind? As her laughter subsided, tears started to well in Sloane’s eyes. She took a second, turning slightly from Anatoliy to compose herself and wipe at her eyes before anything could escape. "You’re absolutely right," she said with an assured confidence as she looked back over at him.

I never understand why people get animals then leave them behind,’ he was somewhat speaking with his hands now. ‘It doesn’t make sense to me. I would love to have animals but at my apartment it wasn’t animal friendly, though I did feed the stray cats all the time. However, I never got an animal because I knew my situation was so…,’ he began making weird maneuvers with his hand as if he couldn’t figure out the word he wanted to use. ‘Mhm…’ he was trying to think of it. ‘You know what I mean, right?’ He was trying to find the word unstable, not able, unreliable… all the things he couldn’t be for an animal the past few years.

"I don’t understand either," she agreed with him, letting her gaze fall to Rocco who sat excitedly by her feet. "I was never allowed to have pets. But Liam’s stupidity is my gain, right?" Sloane asked rhetorically, half trying to convince herself. Rocco had kind of became partly hers while she was close with Liam anyway, now he was solely hers. It was a steep price for a pet, but in the end it showed that she was the more loyal and deserving one. She hoped.

This Liam guy was a jerk by the sounds of it and the conversation had caused Sloane to get teary eyed. Anatoliy felt bad for calling the man a douchebag or bringing up why Rocco would be happy. He could have just kept his mouth shut — sometimes that was a better deal. Just stay quiet and not respond to certain things. The man seemed to not know what to do at first but then he stepped closer, not once, not twice, and his arms wrapped around her and his head rested on hers. ‘I don’t know who Liam is but he is stupid. And I am sorry that he was stupid to you and Rocco,’ Sometimes people just needed to be seen and he understood that. A lot of people would look the other way when he wanted to be seen even if a simple acknowledgement would make him feel better.

Sloane looked him up and down as he stepped closer. She didn’t know what he was doing but she definitely didn’t expect him to pull her into a hug. She froze with her arms held out at her sides with half closed fists. Taken by surprise she froze with wide eyes. But as he settled into it, resting his head on hers and apologizing for what Liam did to her, she felt her tension melt away like snow on a morning in spring. Her arms slowly wrapped around his waist and her hands clasped together behind his back. She let her forehead rest against his collarbone as she exhaled a breath that it felt like she had been holding for months.

She had forgotten what it was like to be seen and heard. It was a comfort that had grown foreign to her, like a fever dream. She sniffled, feeling a lump grow in her throat, but she refused to cry. The last thing Sloane wanted was to cry in the arms of a man she barely knew, and Liam had claimed enough of her tears. "Thank you," she mumbled against his chest, allowing herself to be vulnerable for a moment longer.

But we don’t want to think about Liam when we are going to a party, right? We want to try and have fun and make new friends and stuff. And if it will make you feel better. I’ll play anything you want me to, if I know it,’ Anatoliy was trying to cheer her up and keep her from dwelling on her thoughts. Did other people dwell like he did? He knew his thoughts could be so obsessive that it was a killer for him. He knew that other people didn’t have that obsessiveness in them. However, he still wanted to make Sloane feel better even if they were pretty much strangers and he had no idea who Liam was except for the fact that he clearly hurt Sloane and was a dick to his dog.

She nodded her head before slowly pulling away. Taking a step back, she looked up at him with a shy, guilty smile. If Sloane had been asked how she thought the evening was going to go, nearly crying in the arms of a stranger was not on her bingo cards. While she had been strong through it all, she hadn’t realized how much she had bottled up and packed away. Apparently it was a lot. "Ok," she said, trying to hype herself up for a party that she still wasn’t thrilled to go to. She smoothed down any fly away hairs and tucked them behind her ears.

Ready to face whatever awaited, she exhaled and turned to face the festivities. Sloane still had every intention of lingering on the edge of the party, hoping to avoid most of the shenanigans. But after the temporary lapse in her facade, there was one thing she needed first… "I need a drink."

You need a drink?’ he sounded a bit surprised by her confession. ‘Didn’t you say you weren’t much of a drinker?’ his voice was playful and teasing when he asked that question. He was pretty sure that she said she was not a drinker but he could be remembering wrong. He was pretty sure she made a comment about a girl named Blair being the drinking type.

"I’m not," Sloane replied with a chuckle. "It’s more for the edge," she added while motioning her hands around generally.

He looked into the festivities and the people that were already in a commotion — they were late — and he nodded his head. ‘Well, let’s get us both a drink then,’ Anatoliy reached out for her hand, gently taking it, and leading her around the small crowd of people as he looked for the refreshments table which he quickly spotted.

Still holding her hand when he got to the refreshments table, he thought about it, ‘Maybe I won’t drink. Maybe I’ll have a tea and lemonade mixed drink without alcohol,’ However, he could definitely put a shot in that — that didn’t sound bad at all. Put a shot of something that would mix well and sip on it for a little bit to see how the vibe of the party was going and how crazy he could possibly get.

Sloane was initially a bit stunned when he took her hand, but she let him lead her through the crowd. She was happy to let someone else lead while she followed, especially in social situations. Her free hand rose to her lips, pressing her fingers against her tongue to whistle for Rocco. She patted the side of her leg, signaling for him to follow her and keep close. She scanned the congregation of new campers as they weaved between familiar and new faces.

When they reached the table, she looked back over at him with a curiously raised brow. "Why?" she asked. "I thought you were looking forward to drinking?" Sloane added. There was no judgement in her voice. She was genuinely confused about his change of mind. It wasn’t on her account, was it? "What about a long island? I’ve heard they taste good and not like a mountain of liquor," she suggested with a small tilt of her head. "Just don’t ask me to make it. I know nothing about mixing drinks."

I was thinking about making an arnold palmer,’ he confessed when he looked at her and he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sometimes my mind changes quickly and I decide I don’t want to drink,’ he added before looking back at the alcohol.

While Anatoliy decided if he was going to partake in drinking or not, Sloane’s gaze scanned the table of available alcohols. There were dozens of bottles of various hard liquors: tequila, rum, vodka, gin… and several others that she had no idea what they were. On the other side of the table there were more beer flavors?... Brands? Than Sloane knew existed. And hidden in a back corner, where she imagined most people missed it, were a few bottles of wine. "I need this," she told him gently as she slipped her hand free from his. After weighing her options, she decided to grab the bottle of merlot. She tried several times to pop the cork before looking at Anatoliy with an innocent smile. "Help, please?"

He didn’t seem to even look when she took her hand away because he was figuring out what he wanted to drink. When she spoke up, he glanced, ‘Merlot is nice. Wine tends to taste great,’ he took the bottle from her and he pointed the bottle away from everyone while releasing the cork which had a release of pressure that followed it. He watched where the cork went and seemed to debate if he should go get it — his eyes seemed to focus on it like a cat.

Anatoliy gave her the bottle, ‘There you go,’ and he walked right over, around the tables and grabbed the cork that was in the distance. He came back with a smile on his face, ‘Here you go,’ he handed her the cork as well. Similar to the same energy Rocco would probably give with a game of fetch except way less energetic.

I think I’ll sip on one of these,’ he reached over and grabbed a Mike’s hard lemonade that was strawberry flavored before twisting the cap off.

Even knowing it was coming, Sloane jumped when the cork popped out and flew several feet away. She took the bottle when he held it out to her. "Thanks," she smiled before grabbing a stemmed glass. By the time she finished pouring herself a glass of red wine Anatoliy returned with the launched cork in hand. She laughed softly, taking it from him and did her best to shove it back into the bottle of wine. It wasn’t the best, but it got the job done. She turned to face him while bringing the glass to her nose to inhale its fragrance, then took a sip. "Mmm," she mused with a coy smile.

Sloane’s gaze shifted to his hand as he reached for a chilled bottle with a liquid pinkish in hue. "I think I might sit by the fire," she said, pointing toward the bonfire with the index finger of the hand that held her wine. It was an open invitation if he wanted to join, but Anatoliy also seemed a lot more extroverted than herself. So if he wanted to mingle, she didn’t want to hold him back.

She slowly weaved her way between demigods, avoiding eye contact and the possibility of awkward introductions. Sloane detoured past one of the snack tables, grabbing a small plate and filling it with a couple cocktail sausages. The bonfire seemed to be one of the attractions that was less popular, luckily for her. There were several various types of seats around the fire pit: chairs, benches and anything in between. She gravitated toward a large log covered in a white and grey flannel blanket. After taking a seat, she set her plate down beside her. She grabbed one of the little sausages and offered it to Rocco, who accepted the treat happily.

Anatoliy stood there when Sloane spoke up about going by the fire and he thought about it. He wasn’t sure if she was inviting him or not because she didn’t use the words we or anything of the sort, so he decided to stand there. Watching her disappear into the crowd. He looked down at Mike's hard lemonade drink and then looked around. Was that a nice way of her saying that she wanted to go meet up with friends? He wasn’t sure but he sighed. Did he do something? Did he say something weird? He was trying to think of everything he just did and said. His stormy blues looked around the party as he considered what he could do.

He decided that he would just go sit on the edge somewhere because he didn’t see any familiar faces — why would he? Everyone was new. New and most didn’t care to even look at him when they were entering the camp which was understandable. He was a stranger. Anatoliy went on the edge, the very edge of the party, and took his guitar off. Setting that up against the side of the tree. Sitting by a tree and leaning up against it as he watched everyone else in the group.

She had half expected Anatoliy to follow, but after crossing her right leg over her left she looked up to find herself alone by the fire. Sloane shrugged her shoulders, more to herself. While she liked the company, she also understood if someone more social like him wanted to mingle and meet other campers. She took a sip of her wine then rested her glass on her knee as she twirled the stem between her fingers.



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#A8516E ....|..... Rosalia’s Cabin


This whole place was weird. Really weird. Some of the people were nice. Didn’t make them any less weird though.

Yeah.

Blink and you’d miss it. Azariah here was living the nonbinary dream. Blink and she—he—damnit, she hadn’t known to ask if Azariah wanted ‘they,’ was transforming to indicate pronouns, or what. Next time. Practically all she did was blink, and it was like a whole different person was right there.

Rosalia chuckled to herself. Magic. She had been staring magic in the face, and her biggest takeaway was that she didn’t know what to call the person using it. One of these days, she’d wake up and be home again, and spend the day remembering that incredible dream where she was a homeowner. And the child of a god. But mostly a homeowner.

There wasn’t a lock on the door. Rosalia told herself there didn’t need to be, but didn’t there need to be one? Surely not everyone responded to being a demigod by developing a healthy respect for other people’s space. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Now was the time to take a look around said space and ensure everything was in order. If it was anything like her trip over, there was no telling what nonsense the divine had put together instead of bearing with her.

She set down her luggage by the door and removed her boots. She’d need to put out a pad and a shoe rack if this was going to be the weather—how could they—? There was a shoe rack, and a doormat. This one was on her; she hadn’t anticipated there would be snow. Snow hadn’t even occurred to her. The absence of a rubber mat to catch the snow was her oversight, not theirs.

Rosalia shook her head as she removed her outerwear. She reached into her backpack and pulled out the printed-out list she’d made for her messenger. Right there, in the section marked Living Room, were the items Shoe Rack and Doormat. She’d hyperlinked them with examples in the original document, but the items themselves looked about like what she’d had in mind. Though, she wouldn’t have chosen white for the rack; it would probably never again look so clean. Her fault for not specifying. So many things were needlessly colored white, it was important to specify if something should not be white. She slipped the list back into her backpack and set it aside. Plenty of time for that once she’d returned to personhood. That meant a hot shower. Maybe even a bath.

On second thought, there was a party tonight. She’d work up a sweat unpacking, doing chores, and getting everything set up. With a nod, she beelined to the bathroom and turned on the sink. The water was cold at first, but slowly began to warm. She splashed her face when it felt right, shut the water off, and wiped her face with the hand towel. The water heater was tankless, and the hand towel was right on point—a nice light brown, fitting within her parameters for the bathroom linens: “Pecan Brown (#A67459) is ideal. Please no lighter than Sand (#c2b280), and no darker than Coffee (#6F4E37).

Feeling warmer already, she looked for the thermostat. When she found it, a smile flashed across her face. A Pro t701—exactly what she’d asked for. Apparently there must have been no power bill for Camp Athens though; who thought 72° was reasonable for heat? 65° was—oh, why not? If it had been set to 72° this whole time, 68° would be fine.

She returned to the front of the house and got her list back out of her backpack, then dug into one of her duffles and produced a clipboard. First, the living/dining room. With a mechanical pencil, she went through her list and checked off items as she found them. The cedar chest coffee table had board games, extra blankets, and everything else she’d indicated should go in. The loveseat was against the front wall, the actual couch against the side, and the recliner was in the corner between. None were made with leather, pleather, or anything else sweat-inducing. And whatever they’d spent on it, the oriental rug on the floor looked and felt to her hand like the real thing—at least well made enough that it wouldn’t get ugly on her. It even had a good rug pad underneath it, so the hardwood floor wouldn’t be scuffed up. The short bookshelf cordoned the area off, and the TV sat on its cabinet against the far wall. Perfect for a movie night. With a satisfied, slightly surprised smile, she flipped to the floor plan she’d sketched up and crossed the living room.

Looking to the right side of the room for the dining portion, she inspected the table, chairs, and dining cabinet, and ticked each item off. Just as planned, the dining cabinet had plenty of space next to it on the kitchen wall for a china cabinet—in case she ever did get some good silver and china that needed housing. Everything was good, solid wood, and the chairs even had upholstered cushions rather than just being plain solid wood. As she went through the door into the kitchen, the furniture there was similarly on the nicer end of what she’d requested. Every nonperishable she’d indicated interest in was in its ordained cabinet or drawer. Even the things she’d brought from home, having expected they would have been too much trouble to get, were there. Now she had duplicate Tony Chachere’s! There were plenty of plates, bowls, and cutlery. The pots and pans looked to be good quality.

Then she looked in the freezer. There were three half-gallons of ice cream. Both were Blue Bell. Cherry Vanilla was impressive enough. And then there was Groom’s Cake—a flavour only seasonally available. But the third? Rosalia had never even heard of Cherry Amaretto Cordial before she’d looked it up, seen it was discontinued, and added it to the list just because. And there it was. Rosalia closed the freezer door slowly. The magic was hard to stomach. Everything was hard to stomach. The presence of a discontinued ice cream flavor shouldn’t have been what got her. She knew that.

As she continued on, checking under the sink to see cleaning supplies in their ordained positions, pristine and unopened, then in the walk-in pantry in the very back, where the same story unfolded. There were even extra perishables she hadn’t requested, with expiry dates that suggested they’d been bought very recently. She checked the bathroom, the closet with the washer and dryer between her bedroom and the bathroom, and then her bedroom and its closet. Every last thing she’d asked, down to precise maximal projection she’d asked for the length extension of her custom king-size mattress, was in place and ready for her.

It should have been relaxing. Rosalia knew it should have been relaxing to know for incontrovertible fact that everything she’d wanted done was done, precisely as she’d requested it be done. But as she began to unpack, revisiting the different parts of the house she’d so thoroughly inspected, this knowledge haunted, rather than comforted. A bath was just going to make those feelings into a stew. So Rosalia showered. As the air began to steam, she began to breathe. In. Out. In. And out. This is what she signed up for. Who is man to know the workings of the divine? Even doubting Thomas believed when he saw. Surely it was all enough. It all was enough to believe. But to accept? Understand? Old questions, long wrestled into the pit of her stomach, began to needle again. Why her mother? Why her? Why invite her? Why return? Why would they want her? Why the patience? Why listen? Why the vagaries? She kept mentally wandering in circles for some time. She had the whole day ahead of her, and yet had nothing else to do but await a party, due to start in the evening. It was hours away. Hours of down time. Hours of nothing to do.



Hadn’t she already washed her face, shampooed her hair, conditioned, and done it all before? Her legs and arms were smooth, yet it felt like she’d just gotten in. She needed to wash her face again. She needed to wash her hair and her body again. But there was no hair to shave as the shampoo sat. She could only imagine the water bill.



Freshly rejuvenated by the hot shower and with her hair in a bonnet, Rosalia stood at the threshold, staring at her bed. Did she dare nap? When was the last time she’d done such a thing? She racked her brain for a memory of a nap. It sounded nice, but it also felt like an insane idea to even be considering. Food. She wanted food first. She hadn’t eaten since well before sunrise. Food would fix it. But what to eat? Grits sounded good, especially with how cold it was outside. But that would take a while. Rosalia bobbed her head indecisively as she mulled it over.

Actually, taking up time would be a good thing. Grits it was. She pulled out a little pot, spooned in the grits, added water, and popped it on the stove. Looking at the fire when she lit the stove reminded her. She turned on the vent, cracked a window, and went to her bedroom to grab a cigarette. She checked the time on the phone, saw the lack of signal on her phone, and it all clicked. If she was to be cut off from the wider world, then why not lean into it and pretend it was the old days? She looked through her downloaded music, and found Louis Prima. That’d be nice to get moving to. And this was a new start, wasn’t it? Breakfast to start the day and a new life. Damn! She’d seen bacon in that fridge. Bacon, eggs, grits—get that coffee percolator ready to go and put it on the stove!

Rosalia lit her cigarette from the burner and started to work. She got everything laid out, started grabbing spices, and then snapped her finger. She had time to make it really nice for herself. There was nobody fussing at her being all impatient about the bacon. She could have everything ready at once, and there was nobody telling her how and when to do it.

Potatoes! She could have hash browns, eggs, bacon, and grits together. Bringing a potato from the pantry to the sink, she remembered the green onions in the fridge. She’d have fresh green onions, fresh garlic, and fresh onions cooking in her food today. This was the way to start fresh. With music playing, nothing but good food to cook, a cigarette in her mouth and nobody to catch her with it—the questions and worries melted away like butter in a skillet.

She skinned, then shredded the potato. She rinsed the shreddings, then squeezed them dry. She pulled out a cutting board and diced a small onion. She chucked most of it in with the potato shreddings and half in another bowl, then crushed and diced some garlic, and divided it the same way. She washed her hands again. Returning to the potato, she added flour to the same bowl, then cracked an egg into a glass measuring cup. She whipped it up with a fork and dumped half into the bowl, added the remaining onion and garlic to the cup, then cracked a second egg in and scrambled the onion, garlic, and egg-and-a-half together. The fork and cup went to the side. She washed her hands a third time, set the grits on a back burner, and then reached for the skillets before hesitating. No. She needed to redo their seasoning first. Today, the nonstick pans got love.

She put two pans on the stove, each with a touch of oil, then gave the grits a quick stir. She mixed the potato thoroughly with her hand, finishing right as the pans started sizzling. She made two patties and plopped them in one pan. Another hand-wash. She pressed the patties down with a spatula, and then set the bacon in the other pan. Another stir of the grits. She next grabbed a plate, put some paper towels on it, and set it near the pan with the bacon.

Back to the cutting board, she diced some green onion, then checked the things on the stove. She returned to her eggs and sprinkled salt, pepper, and a bit of red pepper in their cup. She added some salt and pepper to the grits, stirred, then sprinkled some of the trio onto the hashbrowns. A quick breather gave her the time to grab another cigarette from her bathroom. Everything was moving, and there was music and the smell of breakfast filling the kitchen—yet with no expectation of more day to come. It was strange, entrancing, and delightful.

Her fresh cigarette’s smoke danced up into the vent with the beautiful breakfast scents. Her hands hopped from spatula to whisk, between bacon, grits, and hash browns. When two rounds of bacon had graduated to the plate, the eggs went into the pan. Rosalia took her coffee off, then peeled away to return everything else to its place and get a plate for the food and a bowl for the grits. She ran her second cigarette butt under the sink’s stream, as she’d done with the first, and chucked it in the trash. She checked on her food, stirred the grits, then fixed her coffee. A spoonful of sugar and a dash of creamer and it was good to go.

Everything was beautiful. One by one, the remaining pieces of the meal came together. The hashbrowns flipped onto her plate. Her scrambled eggs bounced next to them. Into the bowl with a pat of butter and some heavy cream went her grits, garnished with freshly cut green onions. She slipped the bacon onto the plate. She turned to bring it all to the little table, and clicked her tongue. Placemats! She snapped her finger and drew air in through her lips, thinking of where they were meant to be. Bottom drawer of the dining cabinet. She stepped out of the kitchen, crouched down, and grabbed a mat. The wood of the kitchen table now protected, she could arrange her food just so.

She set the plate in the middle and the bowl off to one corner. On her second trip, she brought two paper towels, her coffee, and the utensils. She popped the spoon from the coffee into her mouth, then put it in the grits and stirred. Perfect. It was just perfect.

Rosalia’s Cabin > Party (Bar)
After enjoying her breakfast, the cleanup got Rosalia thinking about the skillets. She had time; why not strip and season them now? She set right to work. Before she knew it, she’d gone from skillets to giving the kitchen a sweep and the counters a once-over, then she turned her attention to the rest of the house. A little sweep and mop never hurt, did it? She kept it easy, going slowly, doing her best to avoid working up a sweat. She wiped down every inch of wood with furniture polish, wiped the windows, and soon gave up on the proposition of not working up a sweat by the time she interrupted her house-cleaning adventure to check in with the cast-iron.



Her bed was already made. The bathroom was clean—now doubly-cleaned, in fact. She’d already sorted her clothes and everything else that could be sorted when she’d unpacked. And it was still well over three hours till the party.

Rosalia ran through the shower again as she formulated a new plan to pass the time. She’d need to get dressed eventually. Why not take her time on it? Be thorough? She wasn’t enlisted for the preparation or cleanup; there was no reason not to! And a better first impression than she’d risked making in her first arrival? It was sounding like a better idea by the minute. So she dug in her toiletries and found her nail polish. The three bottles that were opened were long-expired. Had it been that long since she’d done her nails? Sure had. Holding the little bottle of ivory nail polish in her hand, she remembered the day she’d bought it. She’d aspirationally spent the last few dollars on a soon-to-expire gift card a few months before graduation, thinking she’d give herself a nice coat for the big day. Didn’t end up happening, but everything happened for a reason, didn’t it?

With more time than she knew how to fill on her hands, Rosalia set right to it. The end product wasn’t perfect, but remover and a q-tip helped tidy it up enough that it looked competently done. She reminded herself to let it sit before she decided if it was alright as she did her toes. Nope. She had to redo it. It needed to be better than “competent.” Doing so without a base or top coat was a tall order, but that meant nothing. On her third try, she stuck the landing. The first and second coats looked good. That would do.

On to the next thing.

What to wear for a New Years’ party for demigods? In that respect, the choice of outfit was really a high-stakes kind of thing. So what to wear? There were so many factors to consider. Half of them couldn’t be put to rest. She didn’t know anyone, and thus couldn’t guess what they’d be wearing. There were no guidelines given. She didn’t know the mood. And the known factors were plenty of trouble on their own—what went over was affected by what went under. And the weather! What was the weather like now? Were they still having it outside? Looking out the window, it was still snowing. Yet the heating was off. And stepping out on her back porch, the air felt mild—almost warm!



Rosalia scoured her wardrobe several times over, as if trying to find new contenders out of nowhere. She didn’t have a great many clothes—even fewer when she only looked at what felt nice enough for the occasion—and yet what she did have still made for an agonizing choice. And another factor came back around every time she looked at hemlines! This place seemed to only have people in their 20s. They were from all over the world. Did hemlines even matter? Of course they did. Rosalia promptly folded two skirts and hung a dress back up for their hemlines. A few tops and another dress got nailed on their necklines. That cleared things up a touch, but there remained a few options.



The winner arose by attrition. Ironically, it was something that had gotten her fussed at a number of years ago. Sitting over shapewear and her one really nice bra—incidentally the only one with removable straps and no scent accumulated from wear in the kitchen—was a lovely emerald-green dress. It bore an off-the-shoulder neckline and an A-line silhouette, with a hemline right below her knee. Around the waist was a faux ribbon which drew some visual interest.

Now on to the hair and makeup.

First, her hair. After a thorough brushing and drying, she took a flat iron in hand and set to work. Piece by piece, the curls fell into place. She debated attempting a few sorts of half-up half-down styles before determining that, having gone to the trouble of curling, she’d rather not risk it. She carefully teased her hair back, pinned a few longer strands that were falling too far forward, and then touched up the short curls near her ears and tinkered with her bangs, until remembering she’d likely have to return to her bangs after her makeup.

She donned a towel like a shawl, and got to work. After several false-starts, where she was again reminded how long it had been since she’d really done much, she rejected the notion of pursuing a full face with contour and moved on to the dressings. She gave herself emerald eyeshadow—bought, in fact, for the very same wedding—and then managed to negotiate her eyeliner into letting her have some wings. The mascara was getting a bit clumpy, but a rough shake of the bottle managed to see her do her lashes with only a bit of trouble. She gave her eyebrows a once-over with her tweezers as she debated blush, and resolved to decide once she’d settled on what to do about her lips. In the choice between colors, the debate was won by which lipstick was actually still usable. The lighter shade was older, and really was in no state to go on her lips at all. So the darker red it was. Stepping back from the mirror, she inspected her face in full and in portions, holding a makeup-removal wipe like her makeup was a hostage and the wipe was a gun. Eventually satisfied, she brushed her eyebrows, nudged her bangs back into position, and made sure the cap was firmly on the lipstick before she tucked it into her bra.

She glanced over to the window. When had the sun gone and set? She reached for her phone. Her heart skipped a beat. She looked back at the mirror. Now she wanted to put some hair up. Maybe she’d regret not doing it, but it was time to go—if she’d wanted to give it a shot that bad, she’d have already tried. She returned to her bedroom, grabbed gold hoops for earrings and gave the lipstick company with cigarettes and a lighter, then gave herself a quick top-up on deodorant, a few puffs of cherry blossom perfume for luck, and slipped on some black heeled ankle boots before she left for the party. After a false start on her porch for having neglected to replace her towel-shawl with the actual matching lace shawl she’d meant to wear with the dress, of course.

She took another cigarette with her. For the road. With a little cloud in her wake, she set off for good, making special effort to finish her smoke a ways before her arrival. Best not to come with a cloud. As she walked and puffed, that familiar anxiety returned. It was a party for children of deities, and she was running late. Mortifying.

By the time she arrived, the party was definitely already swinging. For how long, she couldn’t have said. But she was sure of one thing: She’d clean overshot it on the formality of the event. They had a fire. They had cornhole. There were cans of all sorts of stuff. It was a little party; not a soirée!

She put out the cigarette butt on the sole of her shoe and clutched it in her hand.

Best to just slip in and avoid making a show of lateness either way. She drifted around the outer rim of the party area, and slipped in right near the bar. Without a word, she got herself a cup and put a splash of water in it. She dipped her cigarette butt into it and flicked the butt into the trash. Then, she dumped the water and went straight for the cooled drinks. Then it occurred to her. May as well play into her fancy dress. She swapped her cup for a glass with a stem, and went for the rosé.

Tonight was going to be alright.



Interactions ....|.... None ............... Mentions ....|.... None ............... Collabs ....|.... None
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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by xNocturnax
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xNocturnax

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#66356a ....|..... outfit .....|..... party/bar > outskirts


“Should we go say hi?” Andy asked in regards to the next guy that showed up and waved at them. Literally the next guy. With a plate of cookies.

Trinity took a beat stumped by the gesture to bring his own made food. She always kicked back and let the magic do it. But before she could answer for them or wave Andy on, Evelyn had pleasantries under control. From there it was like rush hour, people coming and going.

Trinity raised her glass to those that acknowledged them and even smiled at the praise Andy received. A hint of pride even took over as Heath praised Andy’s leadership, although it did sound a little farewell-y for her taste. Like they were going to roll over and just let this new person boogey in to be a leader. Trinity threw her head towards Andy when Heath questioned the weather mystery.

For depressing undertones, she mentally poured the next set of shots to.

Someone swooped down on drink number three meant for Andy, and she just caught a few of those significant features, the cut, hairstyle, and jawline, to not aggressively barge back into the thief. Trinity knocked the pairing drink back, shaking her head to herself. “Wesley,” she growled. She only told him off because she was notoriously aggressive and he literally stole from her and had it been anyone else, they’d be eating snow.

When Wes turned her around, she had banter at the ready but he and his black top and skinny jeans gave her pause and made her look him over. His pecs, shoulders and those defined legs…every solid muscle was taut under his well-fitted clothes.

"Hey there, sexy," She had missed his enjoyable gaze because her own eyes had been too busy checking him out. "I have a girlfriend, but I won’t tell her if you won’t."

She smirked at his feedback. “You only have one. She’s just remodeled for the night.”

Before she could comment more, he leaned in to kiss her. While she tilted her head up to meet him she expected something modest and quick at a party, but he lingered and had an extra little fire in his lips. Startled at first, Trinity became easily swayed by Wes’s mouth and met his fever.

That made half a mission successful or at least she was off to a promising start. She looked at Andy half dazed. Was that the power of dressing up? Maybe Wes really would owe her one. He was saying something to the others but she didn't really catch what.

He slipped behind her and pulled her to him. "Don’t get too drunk. I have every intention of seeing these clothes on the floor tonight." Wes whispered in her ear. Trinity felt heat rush to her cheeks then he slapped her behind causing her to jolt. She leant on the bar for support she didn’t know she needed, eyes following after him.

All this time and all those rounds and she still wanted to jump him. But like Andy and her talked about, she didn’t think she had ever actively seduced Wes. As a woman it was on the bucket list and tonight was a mighty good start to be that night.

About to announce her plans to Andy, Mason approached. Trinity did a double take. Mason!? In fancy attire and all.

“Andy. You look breathtaking.”

For you, you jackass. Trinity span around front facing the bar. Although, he must have made some effort too.

Trinity glared at him in the corner of her eye. Well, he blew her plans to smithereens. "And that’s my cue."

Andy approached him first and she fixed her gaze forward, taking the time to admire and contemplate the wide variety of available drinks. What would be her go to today? “Heath, you got a poison?” She would slide his drink or bottle of choice right down to him if he made a request.

When Andy left and was well out of earshot, content in other company, Trinity began. “You. Me. Talk.” She snapped her fingers and pointed in another direction. In case he missed it, she wasn’t asking.

She grabbed a bottle of whatever and left the bar. Unfortunately it was a bit of a hotspot. As she travelled, she saw Rocco zip past her legs. Why was he at a party? He shouldn’t be around drunken idiots not to mention how physical parties got these days. She closed her eyes and recomposed herself. Not her problem. The rule was simple. Whoever so much as accidentally stepped on that puppy’s paws would have their nose broken to even things out.

She continued on and gave Mason the mercy of drawing him to the outskirts of the party then cut him off by stepping in front of him. “Whatcha doing Romeo?” Trinity threw her arms out to the side. As far as Trinity was concerned, he had the girl on a platter and simple instructions to treat her well. Whatever happened in the hall was not exactly that, not to mention how they’ve been since the box.

“You need to shape up.” She kept her voice hushed but stern. “Andy deserves better from you. She needs better from you. If you’re not gonna step up to the plate and keep treating her like she’s alone or expendable then you need to leave her alone. You don’t get to do this Hades brooding bullshit. Last thing she needs is to feel like she’s dating Ajax again.” Or to feel how Ajax made her feel again which was a painful show.

Trinity sighed and rubbed her forehead. Mason was her friend too and she didn’t want to grill him to oblivion but Andy was her priority. “Look, obviously you’re doing something.” She gestured up and down his clothes, throwing him a bone. “But you need to make it up to her tenfold.”

It was going to end there. She swore it was. But she couldn’t get over his formal outfit. “Did Wes recommend?”



interactions ....|.... Andy, Wes, Heath, Mason ............... mentions ....|.... Elysium, Rocco, Evelyn ............... collabs ....|.... none





#ffc300 ....|..... outfit .....|..... Party/Cornhole


Though fleeting contact, Evelyn was able to feel the warmth and smoothness of his hand and that sensation radiated through Elysium’s whole demeanor. Even his name was an ideal place of comfort. But the strangest thing was, Evelyn wasn’t a ‘sensations’ person, she didn’t go off how someone felt but Elysium struck her as an aura and energy.

None of her wonder was long lasting as another arrived on scene. Evelyn saw the reflective outfit and figure before the face. It was the same tunnel visioned girl that Sylas had elected to escort around, dressed to turn heads. While her eyes unwillingly lingered on the girl, it was transparent Chariselle paid no acknowledgement to Evelyn and only wanted to address and be addressed by Elysium. There was of course one part of her that wanted to challenge her entire lack of existence but without knowing enough, it was better not to.

She gave a tense smile to Elysium who was naturally inclusive in his language. For now she’d not get in the blonde’s simple way or cause any problems. "So…So we just need one more person or you guys can team up against me if you want to." He concluded.

Evelyn opened her mouth to excuse herself from the game and suggest a one verse one. She was sure it could translate over well-enough. Then they could get to know each other and Evelyn could learn about them in turn. But Wes appeared, enthusiastic to be the final player. "Hell yeah, cornhole. Did I just hear there’s room for a fourth?"

Evelyn smiled back at Wes. He was handsome, very handsome in fact, and it was easy to return his smile so genuinely…

But he was a bother because now she didn’t have as much heart to leave the game. She averted her gaze for another escape route to find the eyes of Sylas lingering on her instead. She checked over her shoulder in case his eyes had been somewhere more shiny and she was only fortunate to have met his gaze in time. The raise of his glass to her however suggested otherwise and she smiled. She gave a small curtsy to him for the regards. Between Andy’s compliment and Sylas’s look she felt pretty good.

“I might be better suited to a spectator,” she picked up her previous train of thought with the group. Evelyn grabbed up one of the bags curiously, testing its weight and feel, then tossed it for a trial throw. The bag sunk through the hole. “Maybe I have the aptitude for it.” She shrugged softly, though she was mildly impressed. Her eyes darted to Wes. She didn’t know if he knew her parentage. It wasn’t something she advertised much but if he did maybe she expected an outcry that she was a cheat and used luck of some sort. Or maybe it was all fine.

“Boys versus girls then?” She suggested regardless and trailed to the further side and retrieved the red bag she had just thrown. She’d let the game begin officially with Elysium’s say so.

No matter the teammate or who ended up on her end, who threw atrociously or what, Evelyn was ready. A coordination test. A slice of luck. This could be a telling game. Not as telling as cards which might've been the next game on the schedule if they were keen for it. She’d have to backlog the idea for now. Anything could happen at a Camp Athens party after all.


interactions ....|....Elysium, Chariselle, Wes ............... mentions ....|.... Sylas ............... collabs ....|.... none


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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Sir Sparky
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Sir Sparky That Guy

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8e0047....|.... outfit ....|....party


The importance of dress code. Who’d have thought it. Until you were working off literally nothing. Lochlan stared at his closet at a loss. This is when he could use Blair’s annoying yet handy talents. Plus then he could always see what she was wearing and see if she dressed him obviously down or up. But usually Blair took fashion selection very seriously.

Lochlan dove into the closet of blazers and jackets and yanked one out. He could wear this purple beauty with any colored top and pants and sure it was more casual than dressy but in a place like camp, it seemed fitting. He doubted they could ever throw a more tasteful event anyway. Lochlan settled for a plain white shirt underneath and black jeans.

He dragged his tail there. This was his first camp party and he didn't expect to be blown away. He wasn't remotely excited but he was curious so it must have been that driving him there. He could show his face until he'd had enough and slink away.

Admittedly the field was barely recognizable but the big opening by the arena and stables could only be one place and his sense of direction wasn't that bad. But something was missing. Blair wasn't even there yet. Too wise to get lost and not seeing her vote against attending a party, she must have been caught up in something or...someone.

Lochlan prowled around the party, eyeing the prospects and who he could manipulate or have fun with. But most people were smart, grouped up in a pack or couple at least. Sure Lochlan could do the 2 for 1 deal or make someone do something to the other but he still needed to contemplate it. Some people were tricky.


interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|....Blair







47815a....|.... Outfit ....|.... party



The day dragged on. Hardly a fan of uneventful and long days, he had a mind to whip the content and quiet camp in shape- give the new campers a real welcome by setting some hell beasts loose but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to the recently recouped campers and, well, once he conjured something he didn’t control it so there was no tracking them and it kinda made him responsible if something super bad did happen. Apparently catching naïve campers unaware was thoroughly frowned upon and someone would be bound to find out it was linked to him.

Daniel took himself for a walk around camp. He knew the place, head to toe, yet he felt restless. Bored actually. So while he voted against conjuring something wicked for now he still dreamed. He’d set it loose, a pack of five, right by the arena. Humanoid figure on two legs, two arms, but not skin and flesh, maybe gray and harder like a rhino’s hide, no eyes, rows of razor sharp teeth - To this day the wendigo still got him best. He had had his share of claws and bites but none of it the kinky fun kind.

Lapping back around to the field again, he had half a mind to help Andy and the camp’s favorite warrior, but two little miss independents could always ask if they needed a hand otherwise were more than capable themselves.

-------------------------------------

Without catching any co-campers on his path, Daniel arrived alone which was a different feeling. Not impossible to work with but certainly a new thing. Normally there was some hype on the journey there with someone to talk to but he had a silent walk. It was admittedly harder and harder to feel a pep in his step when nothing had happened in so long. But he supposed tonight was the night. It was a party, there were newbies. Things were bound to happen.

Everything was the usual set-up for a camp party. The drinks, the fire, music. The snow, ice skating area and sledding hill were new additions. Daniel was impressed to see it altogether in one final product. Everyone was well scattered throughout the party meaning Andy had admittedly selected a good array of activities.

Daniel spotted one new camper by the bar who went pretty hard on the dress up side in some, what would probably be considered, majestic shade of green knee length dress. It wasn’t bad by any means and she could wear it but she was the only one so far that dressed as if they could attend a ball too.

No one else looked to beeline the girl to bug her. So Daniel took the responsibility. “What are the odds,” he began getting near her, “that you’re the first on the dancefloor?” He leaned an arm on the bar. Dancefloor obviously being a substitute for a vague dance area, but she’d pick it up. “I’ll even push people away and clear it up for you.” Because there was always at least one fool who stood in the middle of it in his experience.

Daniel paid another glance around. More sincerely, someone honestly had to break the cycle and dance first. At least people weren’t pinned at this party. Demigods were skating and mingling and moving around. “I gotta warn you, I don’t think any classicals will come on,” he teased. He knew just because she dressed classy and had a rosé, it didn’t mean that encompassed her. It could have just been she liked to dress up or that’s how she partied in her past.

He would've introduced himself but he was starting to believe when he gave his name and grew acquainted with attractive dark haired girls, things went south.


interactions ....|.... Rosalia ............... mentions ....|.... Andy, Trinity

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#86a8ad ....|..... outfit .....|..... camp trails .............................................................. #5a3e85 ....|..... outfit .....|..... camp trails


River cleared his throat and pointed to the right of the arena. "We might be able to circle back around that way," he said with uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t get one of the maps and barely looked at his sister’s, but that made the most sense. If they somehow ended up in a dead end they could always turn around and follow their footsteps back. Right? It wasn’t rocket science.

“Now, now River, ‘Might be able’ is not the kind of leadership that inspires confidence,” Anissa said just before they stepped off the main trail and in the direction he’d indicated. Her boots crunched lightly in the snow as she fell into step beside him. “If we get lost, by the way, I’m putting that on your performance review.”

"Performance review?" he echoed with an arched brow. "Had I known I was going to be graded I would have been on my best behavior, and not fraternizing with my subordinates," he added with a teasing seriousness in his voice. River stayed facing forward, but snuck a few sideways glances to gauge her reaction. It was rare he tried joking around. Normally he was the target of teasing, but never the teaser? He broke the silence with a little chuckle.

Thinking on the prospect of being the new camp leader and the concept of ‘performance reviews’ made him wonder what was expected of him. While River didn’t actually expect there to be any sort of review, he would still be susceptible to the judgements of his peers and the Gods. With the basis of Poseidon’s training, he imagined he’d score favorably with the Gods but detested amongst his fellow demigods. Would he be able to retain any friends? Would Anissa still want to spend time with him once he stepped into the role? If he upset her, could he fix it? "Is extra credit on the table?" he asked, letting his concerns slip out before he had the forethought to keep it to himself. He looked over at her with a pensive lopsided smile, hoping to play it off as nothing more than more teasing.

“Mmm… depends.” Anissa replied.“Something tells me you’re a hands-on learning kinda guy, so let’s just say you’ll owe me later, ok?” She flashed him a sly half-smile before turning her eyes forward again.

The area enveloped them in a hushed tranquillity as they walked, snowflakes drifting lazily between the branches of pine trees beside them like nature's own confetti. Anissa found herself relaxing into it while stealing occasional glances at her companion’s profile once more. But mostly she let her gaze wander across their surroundings, drinking in the beauty of the snow-dusted landscape.

As they passed clusters of cabins, each dwelling seemed to hold fragments of its occupant's personality. One boasted cheerful strings of lights while another displayed wind chimes that tinkled softly in the breeze. Another had a pair of muddy boots abandoned carelessly on porch steps, but quite a few had strange symbols carved into their door frames. Greek, perhaps, though it was hard to make them out in the growing dark. Still, something told Anissa that these weren't just buildings; they were living extensions of the demigods who inhabited them, much like her own had when it came to her bedroom’s design.

Rather than voice her observations, Anissa found herself nudging River's arm again, the gesture becoming their unspoken language.

“Tell me something no one else knows about you,” she demanded, her tone dancing between challenge and intrigue. “Something that would make your divine relatives clutch their pearls. Assuming, of course, that sea gods even wear pearls.”

River’s gaze fell to his arm where she, once again, bumped his arm. His hand raised, subconsciously reaching for his arm where she touched him. Curiosity flashed across his face before his expression softened into a foreign contentment. His thumb lightly ran along the skin almost in disbelief. A strange and unfamiliar tingling settled in the pit of his stomach causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. She had nudged him twice now. Why was he keeping track? And when did he start staring at her?

Shit. She asked him a question.

He cleared his throat trying to snap himself out of whatever trance had taken hold of him. "I’m pretty much an open book," River admitted. "Let me think."

Did he have any secrets? River had lived a relatively boring life before camp that there was little to nothing of interest about him or his life. He didn’t really have secrets. If anything people just never asked him the right questions so it never came up in conversation. But it wasn’t like he was hiding it or ashamed of it. The only thing that came to mind was that he was a virgin… And he had never been kissed. But he was definitely not telling Anissa that. Nope. No way. He had to think of something else.

"I—" he began, dragging it out, as the final thoughts came together and he tried to decide what to share. "—am scared of heights, and my favorite color is purple." River glanced over at Anissa with an innocent smile and a shrug. It wasn’t juicy or scandalous and definitely wouldn’t make the Gods clutch their pearls, but it was the truth. And, to the best of his knowledge, no one knew that about him… Because no one cared to ask.

The snowflakes catching in the girl’s lashes seemed to pause mid-fall as she blinked at him with exaggerated slowness. "Wait. Heights?" she repeated, her voice climbing an octave as disbelief and levity warred for dominance in her tone.

There’s no way he was seriously afraid of heights, right? Sure, it wasn’t the pearl-clutching secret she’d expected, but….

Her gaze travelled up his tall frame from his feet all the way to where she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "So what you're saying is..." she continued, pressing her lips together to suppress a growing smile, "...you live in a constant state of fear."

She shook her head, the motion sending a few snowflakes tumbling from the brim of her beret. "You poor thing," she cooed with mock sympathy, reaching up to pat his shoulder (or more like his arm because of the significant height difference). "The air must be so thin up there." The teasing came as naturally as breathing. There was something endlessly entertaining about how easily he handed her ammunition, how someone so physically imposing could reveal such human vulnerabilities.

River rolled his eyes, bobbing his head from side to side in a mocking manner. He gave her a little sassy side eye with raised brows as she patted his arm in fake sympathies. "You know," he said as he turned slightly to face her. "6’ 1” isn’t actually that tall. You’re just short," he added, leaning down to whisper next to her ear like it was a secret. Her darkness stood out like a black bird in a snowstorm as they walked through the picturesque winter wonderland. He focused on the snowflakes in her lashes slowly melting into glistening water droplets that made her dark eyes twinkle in their own mischievous way.

Anissa’s breath hitched as River unexpectedly closed the distance between them, his sudden nearness freezing her mid-step. His whisper brushed against the curve of her ear, warm, intimate, and startlingly out of place. She could smell the clean scent of his damp hair mixed with winter pine, an unsettlingly pleasant combination that momentarily scrambled her thoughts.

Yet, out of pure instinct, her defences slammed back into place.

Anissa forced her shoulders to relax, sculpting her features into an expression of amused indifference as she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Her eyes, however, held a bit of something wilder—a trapped-bird flutter of panic she ruthlessly suppressed. She reached out to cover it, her gloved fingers brushing imaginary snow from his shoulder. The physical contact was brief but a calming touch as much as a diversion.

"Oh, please," she shot back, flicking a stray snowflake off his shoulder. "Tell that to every doorframe you've ever smacked your forehead into." She took a subtle half-step back as she said this, reclaiming her personal space, though the phantom warmth of his breath near her ear still lingered like a ghost’s touch.

"Hmm," he mused with a faint hint of a smirk. His head instinctually turned to her gloved hand as she dusted his shoulder. Was that three times now? Why was he counting? River had to pry his gaze away from her eyes, deep brown like fresh brewed coffee, warm and comforting on a chilly morning. It was only when her hand fell that he slowly stood back upright.

"I was being serious," he said trying to continue the conversation on from whatever the hell he was just doing. "When I was 12 this huge swell came to our island. I had been surfing all day but then this massive wave came. I had to ride it." River’s hands moved and emphasized his words as he spoke. "But once I was on the crest, everything felt like it was spinning. I blacked out." He spared a quick glance over at Anissa before continuing. "When I woke up I was on the beach. My mom and Ocean were freaking out." He shook his head recalling how frantic they were, insisting he didn’t move and calling for an ambulance. Everything was fine, but they wouldn’t let up for weeks. "I probably would have died if I wasn’t Poseidon’s kid. The undertow can be pretty rough."

While surfing remained a foreign concept, the intimate dance with death? That language Anissa spoke fluently. A vivid, unwelcome image flashed behind her eyes: the terrifying crest of dark water, the stomach-lurching plunge, the suffocating blackness closing over the boy beside her. She’d never felt saltwater drag her down, but she’d stood on death’s doorstep countless times. Not her own physical demise either, but the chilling premonitions of others’ ends that haunted her like clockwork.

These visions arrived uninvited, carried on strange sensations. She’d felt death in the sudden, inexplicable wilting of fresh lilies held moments before. She’d sensed it in intangible aches – sharp pains mimicking broken ribs flaring across her torso with no injury. Most disturbing was the taste, however, an acrid, metallic bitterness coating her tongue out of nowhere, a foul prelude to loss. Death didn’t always announce itself with violence. Often, it was a soundless thief, slipping in on sighs of unfinished conversations, leaving behind only the cold residue of regret and the residual presence of the departed who sometimes visited her restless mind.

Specific faces appeared in her memory now. A girl with wind-chime laughter and a dark bruise on her wrist that no one questioned. A boy whose handshake during a brief encounter had felt like gripping ice, sending a shudder of absolute certainty through her. An old man in a sun-drenched café, smiling at her with serene, knowing eyes that seemed to understand his own imminent end. None of them had known their fate was sealed. But she had. She’d felt the oppressive weight of it, sensed the grim silhouette of their approaching final moments, a knowledge that was useless to her because there was nothing she could do to prevent it. No matter how hard she tried.

There was no escape from the inevitable. There was no escape from death.

Perhaps that was why River’s story resonated differently, profoundly. This wasn’t a detached, sensed premonition. This was a lived experience recounted firsthand. He had stood where her visions ended, looked into the abyss, and clawed his way back. The reality of his survival captivated her, yet it also ignited a cold spark of fear deep within her.

“That’s... kind of terrifying,” Anissa finally murmured, unable to keep the honesty from her voice. “I mean, godly blood or not, no one really escapes it, you know? Not forever. Son of Poseidon or not, your family had every right to freak out.”

She finally glanced sideways at him, snowflakes stubbornly clinging to her dark lashes like tiny stars drawn to her inherent shadow. “People always act like death is loud,” she continued, her voice dropping lower, almost swallowed by the crunching snow. “It’s not. It’s quiet. Creeps up when you think you’re safe.” She gave a half-shrug, trying to shake the weight of her own words. Her eyes met his again, serious this time. “So yeah. You were lucky. Really lucky.” The word ‘lucky’ felt inadequate, but it was the only one that encompassed the sheer, improbable defiance of his survival against the creeping finality she knew so well.

"Yeah, well…" he said with a sigh, looking off at the snow covered trees before them. River wasn’t sure what else to say. He nodded his head and pressed the thumb of his right hand into the palm of his left. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before, about being lucky. He didn’t feel lucky. His black out felt little more than falling asleep and then he was awake. There was no pain, no bright white light. Just… a void, nothing. It’d make more sense for him to be scared of death after the whole ordeal, but that was the calmest party. It was calm and serene, like returning home. If anything, the fact he was so comfortable with it was the scarier part.

His brows furrowed as he clung to her words. Anissa spoke like someone who was very familiar with death. Her perspective was unique and intimate. Had she experienced a lot of death in her life? Loss of family members or loved ones? Or was she a macabre sort of girl who found things like death and the afterlife fascinating? No. It couldn’t be a fascination. The way she spoke was like someone who accepted death's inevitability. She spoke about it with respect and reverence, not awe.

“Purple, though?” Anissa added after some time, getting back to a lighter topic. “Unexpected. But… very good choice. Mine’s lilac, if you’re wondering which I know you are.”

River’s brows raised curiously as he glanced over at her with a small grin. So, also purple? Light purple, if he remembered correctly. Guys never knew the intricacies of colors. There was red, blue, green, purple, etc. None of this teal or chartreuse bull. You might as well be speaking Mandarin to him or something because those words meant nothing to him. It was an interesting coincidence though. Another thing to add to the weird bucket of similarities and vibes that they seemed to be collecting.

"Your turn," River posed the same question, with a gentle little nudge of his own.

Anissa hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek as if trying to decide how much of herself she was actually willing to hand over.

"Alright," she began, voice uncharacteristically measured. "Something no one knows… except you now." A brief pause as her gaze lifted to the snow-laden branches above, watching the flakes spiral downward like tiny ghosts. The moment of hesitation stretched just long enough to be noticeable before she continued.

"I came here because of a letter." Her throat worked around the admission. "There was no name and no return address. Just... instructions and a gut feeling I decided to trust." She shrugged one shoulder like it was nothing, like it hadn’t kept her up for a few nights straight before she decided to follow it.

“I’ve never met my dad, and my mom…she’s great, but she doesn’t know anything about any of this.” She let the admission hang for a moment, and then, as if startled by her own honesty, Anissa stopped in her tracks.

This was a lot more truth than she'd offered anyone in years, and the realization sent a jolt of panic through her veins.

Instinct took over, her defences snapping back into place as she shook her head to clear it, beginning to walk again. “So I’m probably a daughter of Athena or something, if I had to guess,” she blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Like maybe I have two moms, you know?" The forced lightness in her tone rang empty even to her own ears. Then, seizing on the first ridiculous tangent her racing mind could conjure: "Wait a second, do Gods even have sex? Like, in a normal way? Or is it all lightning bolts and flower metaphors and suddenly boom demigod baby."

Her wide-eyed stare fixed on River, the perfect picture of innocence. "I need to know what we're working with here." The abrupt subject change was clumsy at best, but she clung to it, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous emotional waters and back into the territory of teasing they had before.

River’s pace slowed as he watched Anissa’s demeanor shift when he posed the same question to her. He wasn’t sure what he expected in response, probably a similar answer sharing a fear or some other random fact about herself that wasn’t super personal. But instead he was surprised to learn that didn’t have a clue who her God-parent was. They really were pieces of shit, weren’t they? He had assumed that everyone was told at some point, minimally right before coming to camp. But the fact that she and her mother hadn’t a clue was… cruel.

There were a couple times River parted his lips to say something, but let Anissa continue her rambling. He was not the best at reading people, but he could tell the topic or, perhaps, the confession made her anxious. He let her get it all out of her system, even chuckling at the interesting shift in conversation. When there was a pause, he looked down at her. His hand awkwardly flexed like he wanted to… comfort her in some way, but he also didn’t want to overstep. "I don’t want to get smited on my first day at camp, so I won’t say it again," he said, referencing his earlier comment about the Gods being dicks. "But that sucks, I’m sorry. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone," he added, in case she needed the reassurance of his secrecy. "Keep your eyes peeled. If you see someone with abilities like yours then it’s probably a safe bet."

Anissa’s mouth twisted at his words—that sucks, I’m sorry—and for a second, it looked like she might deflect again. But instead, she just gave a small nod.

He didn’t have the best relationship with his father, but River couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like not knowing. Hell, he couldn’t imagine not knowing sooner. Once powers started manifesting, Poseidon showed up. There wasn’t much time where he was left to feel like he was odd or crazy for having strange abilities he couldn’t explain. He got his answers, and his father’s expectations thrust upon him as a young teen. He still didn’t feel normal, but he was never left in the dark.

River wasn’t going to dwell on the conversation she was eager to move on from. He said his piece. He wasn’t going to pry or force her to elaborate on it. He took a second to ponder her question about the Gods and sex. He thought he recalled various tales in mythology that explicitly mention sex but he was not a child of Athena, so the details faded away almost immediately after the test in High School.

"Wouldn’t a daughter of Athena know if the Gods had sex?" River asked, taking one of the few opportunities he saw to turn the teasing back on Anissa. He made a clicking sound with his tongue and shook his head in false disappointment. "That’s not very smart of you. I guess we can cross her off the list of possibilities."

“Oh, I knew you’d say that.” She threw him an exaggerated look of offence. “Low blow, Ocean Boy. I happen to be very smart. Just selectively educated, thank you very much.”

"Oh, yes. Right. My bad," he said with dry sarcasm. "Dumb Ocean boy only knows seaweed and fish."

After a moment or two of playing dumb, River chuckled softly as she looked down at the ground while he gave the snow a little kick. His brows furrowed and eyes squinted when he actually realized what they were talking about. "Wait a minute," he nearly stopped in his tracks as they rounded the northern side of the arena. "Why do you want to know if the Gods have sex?" he asked, looking over at her with a suspicious expression. "You want to have sex with Ares, don’t you?"

Anissa gasped like he’d just accused her of high treason. “Excuse you?!” she exclaimed, wheeling on him with scandalized flair. “You think I’d go for Mr. Rage Boner himself? Please!” She waved a hand through the air like swatting away an awful idea.

River froze in his tracks as she seemed physically revolted by the idea. He tried to hide an amused chuckle, back stepping as she came at him waving her hands around.

“I have standards, you know? And don’t act all uppity uppity as if you wouldn’t give it a go if Aphrodite offered to like…give you a blowjob or something.” She sniffed.“Besides, if I were gonna go god-hopping, Ares would be ranked dead last.” She shuddered dramatically, wrinkling her nose as if the mere idea left a bad taste in her mouth. Then, tapping a finger on her chin, she pretended to weigh her options.

"Well… yeah. She’s the literal Goddess of love. Even you would drop trou for her," he agreed without question, motioning his hands at her as he included her in the Aphrodite bang wagon. Anyone would sleep with her. Although, to be fair, a pretty girl could punch him and River would probably thank them, because at least a girl was giving him attention. Note to self, neverrrrrrrrr tell Anissa that. She’ll have too much fun.

She waved him off. “ Yea, yea, yea. Too obvious. Butttt….top of the list, though? Hmm...Poseidon, probably.”

River made a weird noise, somewhere between a snort and gasp that was immediately followed by a coughing fit. He nearly doubled over, holding his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He turned his head toward her, now at eye level. His face was all scrunched up in horror, disgust, betrayal? Maybe even a twinge of jealousy, not that he would ever admit that. It was a big melting pot of ‘what the fuck’ emotions.

She left the words suspended, just long enough to raise doubt, before she shot River a sly, sideways glance, the corner of her mouth tugging upward. “Y’know, out of respect, of course. Plus, I hear he really knows how to rock the boat.” The pun rolled off her tongue effortlessly, and she watched River’s reaction, biting back a laugh. But then she tilted her head slightly, casting a quick glance skyward.

“That was a joke, by the way. Promise I’m not looking to screw any of you.”

Trying not to die from shock, disgust, or choking on his own spit, he could barely keep his eyes open to see she was talking to the Gods. So when Anissa spoke, River’s heart skipped a beat. He stood upright abruptly. His coughing fit ceasing to exist with his attention focused elsewhere. Before he could calm himself down and force himself to attempt being rational, he took a few quick steps to get in front of her. "Hold up, who is ‘any of you’?" What did she mean by ‘any of you’? Was he part of that ‘you’? There was no one else there, so who else could it be? And why did he care?

Anissa started to turn, her laughter still bubbling in her throat, when River abruptly stepped into her path. She blinked rapidly, unprepared for the sudden closeness or the fierce intensity hardening his expression. The easy warmth of what she’d believed was their shared joke vanished instantly, replaced by a tension that prickled uncomfortably across her skin.

Her lingering smile dissolved completely, replaced by genuine bewilderment. “…What?” she asked, her voice noticeably flatter than before. Her eyebrows pulled together in a deep, puzzled frown, and her head tilted slightly to one side, like a bird trying to understand a sudden disturbance. “I said the Gods. You know, plural? Like big divine sky creepers watching from above?” A spark of irritation flared within her at his unexplained intensity, but a rising curiosity quickly overshadowed it.

She gave a weak chuckle, gesturing vaguely upward again as if trying to re-lighten the mood, but her eyes were scanning his face now, really scanning it. Something had changed, and it took her a second too long to realize she might’ve brushed up against something more personal than she meant to.

River took a stumbling step back and closed his eyes. Idiot. He sighed and rested his hands on his hips, utterly embarrassed. What the hell was he doing? Acting crazy, that’s what. His right hand raised, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose. He should leave, just walk off before he could make himself look any more ridiculous and pathetic than he already did. "Right, off course… That makes sense." He nodded his head a couple times before turning on his heels and starting to walk away.

“Wait…” The girl’s voice softened significantly, losing all traces of mockery. The defensive confusion melted away, replaced by a gentler, more attentive expression.“What did you think I meant by that?”

He stopped when Anissa told him to wait, but he didn’t turn back around. "Umm…" River exhaled deeply, puffing out his lips. His fingers slipped through his damp locks to scratch the back of his head. "I don’t know. When you said ‘any of you,’ I guess I thought you meant Poseidon and any of his—" his hands moved up and down like he was searching for the thought or weighing the options, "—offspring," he admitted, against his better judgement and nagging feeling in his gut.

Why in the hell did he think that’s what she meant? What did it matter? He had known her for all of, what? Half an hour? River’s lips pursed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. All that ran through his head was the few times in his life when he had a crush or a friend. It was exciting and new. Someone who spent time with him and wasn’t put off by his dense awkwardness. Only to find out it was out of pity or they pulled away, ghosting him for one reason or another. It wasn’t like he was trying to sleep with Anissa, but something about that rejection triggered something in him. He didn’t know what, but he didn’t like it either.

Great. Awesome. That was now how many times he made himself look like a complete imbecile. It was only a matter of time before his own insecurities did the exact thing he kept trying to avoid… Pushing people away. He didn’t want to push Anissa away. She was the first person that got him to loosen up, if even for a minute. But he had to fuck it up. His eyes fixated on a branch weighed down by the snow as he mind ran in self deprecating loops.

For a long, silent moment, Anissa simply stared at him, trying to process the strangeness of it all. Why would her stupid joke about ancient gods wanting romance make him look like she’d struck him across the face? The disconnect felt jarring, almost illogical. Then, the crucial part landed. Not the whole tangled mess, but the core truth.

Oh.

A bit of disbelief mixed with something else rose within her. It was absurd, really. They were practically strangers navigating this bizarre situation, and already he’d assumed her flippant remark was a rejection aimed at him?

She felt a confusing swirl of bafflement and, surprisingly, an unexpected warmth of being… noticed. Maybe even a little flattered beneath the utter strangeness.

Her lips parted as if to speak, then pressed shut again without a sound. Finding the right words – genuine, straightforward ones – felt like navigating very unfamiliar territory. Teasing, banter, quick deflections? Those were her native languages. This sudden plunge into someone else’s exposed feelings? It was entirely different, leaving her momentarily adrift.

“River…” Anissa finally managed, her voice softer than intended as she took a step closer. The beginnings of a smile touched her lips but vanished instantly; the gravity of the moment demanded seriousness. “I wasn’t making fun of you. And I wasn’t talking about you either.”She kept her gaze on him, willing him to see the honesty there even if he wasn’t looking directly at her.

When she said his name River sighed and slowly turned around to face her. His face was painted with an expression of apologetic embarrassment. He struggled to meet her gaze, but forced himself to look in her eyes even if it made his stomach knot.

“I know I joke around a lot,” she acknowledged, “but I don’t think of you like that. Some random ‘offspring of a god’ that I’m just lumping in with the rest of them.” There was a slight hesitation here, signaling the next admission was harder to voice. “And for what it’s worth… if that was what you thought, I mean…” She gave an almost imperceptible shrug, her eyes moving away for just a fraction of a second before snapping back to where he stood. “I get why you’d care. And I wouldn’t blame you for it.” A bit of her usual self surfaced, a tiny spark to lighten the heavy mood.“I mean… I am kind of hard to resist.” The grin that followed was brief, self-aware, and entirely meant to smoothen the delivery of her awkward sincerity.

River rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He cocked his head to the side and nodded it. For whatever reason, he found her ability to tease after all that to be reassuring and even help lower tensions. "Yeah. Yeah, beauty Queen," he said with playful annoyance before flicking a tiny bit of snow off a branch at her. It was barely bigger than a snowflake but enough to stick in a little piece of her hair.

Anissa laughed but didn’t let the moment dissolve back into pure ease. She pushed forward, into the uncomfortable honesty. “I’m not great at this,” she admitted plainly, making a vague gesture between them. “The comfort thing. The serious talking.” A hint of frustration colored her voice, directed inward. “You’d think I’d be better after dealing with… dealing with people all the time.” The unspoken weight of her usual interactions was left unsaid, too complex, sometimes dangerous, rarely requiring just gentle reassurance. “But this? Talking like this? It’s… harder. Different.” She let out a slow exhale, releasing some of the tension coiling within her. “But if I made you feel like I was lumping you in with all that celestial mess, I’m sorry. I wasn’t.”

And finally, this time, the small smile she offered him wasn’t a cover for anything or a joke. It was real. Tentative, perhaps, but undeniably true.

"You didn’t. I just… Missed the context or something," River admitted trying to reassure her. Anissa’s smile caused him to match it with his own tentative grin as he slowly took a couple steps forward to return to her side. "If it’s any consolation, I’m not really good at the whole playful thing… Or social cues," he confessed with a wary laugh before slowly starting to continue them along the path. After a moment or two of silence as their shows crunched the white powder underfoot, he spoke up again. "I’ll make you a deal, you help me loosen up and I’ll help you with the serious stuff," he offered with an amused grin. It was no secret that he could definitely learn to be a little less uptight and sociable, but it also gave them another reason to see one another. After all, things weren’t going terrible… so far. That was a plus.

Anissa blinked at the offer like it had surprised her, like she hadn’t expected him to turn the moment into something… cooperative. A deal. A give and take.

"Deal," she heard herself say, the word slipping out almost automatically as they resumed walking side by side. The agreement felt both risky and strangely inevitable. "But fair warning: if I teach you to loosen up, you might actually start enjoying yourself. And then where will your brooding, mysterious leader reputation be?" To emphasize the point, she made a downward gesture with her hand, mimicking the pull of a toilet handle and the accompanying whoosh of water.

He raised his brows inquisitively. "You think I’m mysterious?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. That was a new one for River, or at least to his face anyway. What could be so enigmatic about him? People were in for disappointment if they thought he was some multifaceted person. He wasn’t. If they were dying to know something they could ask, as he said before, he was an open book. But there really wasn’t more than what meets the eye.

“Oh yeah, for sure. You’ve got that “I don’t feel like I belong here, but I gotta lead anyway” vibe.” Anissa recognized the look he gave her instantly after that; it was the expression of someone convinced she was either making fun of him or simply seeing her reflection in his struggles. And if she was being honest with herself, it bothered her that he wasn’t buying it.

Anissa knew she wasn’t pulling this observation from thin air. After all, the necessary proof was right there in his recent choices. He could’ve easily walked away after that painfully awkward moment they’d just had. He could’ve laughed it off, brushed her aside, or retreated behind a cool leader persona. Instead, he’d stopped and admitted he misread her intentions, offered a deal in the form of a mutual exchange, and tried, clumsily but sincerely, to meet her halfway. And before that? His intense reaction itself, the wounded tension radiating from him when he mistakenly thought she was lumping him in with the uncaring gods? That hadn’t been wounded pride. It was the reaction of someone who’d been casually dismissed, overlooked, or reduced to a category one too many times.

And Anissa felt, of all the people he’d probably interacted with so far, she could understand that the most.

She’d spent most of her life pretending her world wasn’t fractured down the middle. Pretending the things she saw weren’t real, that the chill brushing her neck in a crowded room wasn’t death hovering too close, that the dreams she had weren’t warnings. People didn’t take well to truths like that. They were too dark, too weird, too inconvenient. So she’d learned to keep it tucked away, stay pretty, and act normal. But beneath all that polish was someone who’d been quietly pushed aside her whole life: by classmates who thought she was creepy, by a mother who never quite asked the right questions, by a father who had never once shown his face.

So yeah, she recognized that look in River. Not because he’d told her anything, but because she’d worn it too.

Or perhaps…she truly was projecting.

Either way, he cared. She could see it now, undeniable and vivid. It shone through in the careful way he listened, even when her words were confusing and perhaps weird as hell at times. It was evident in his stubborn persistence and willingness to keep trying to connect despite his obvious social clumsiness. This caring wasn’t just directed at her in this strange moment either; it seemed woven into his very being. It was about the camp he would lead, the heavy responsibility of his role, and the people under his watch, people he felt responsible for already, despite the clear reluctance to meet them all.

So, Anissa said the only thing that made sense at the time. Something a little messy, a little honest, and a little her:

“Ok, so you’re not mysterious like ‘hot vampire Edward Cullen in the corner’ mysterious. It’s just that… you care. More than you let on. I can tell….”

"Hmm," River mused as he slid his fingers into the front pocket of his khakis. He didn’t know how to digest what she said. It was a strange sensation being dissected and analyzed, like everything internal was laid bare for the world to see. It wasn’t like he hid who he was or pretended to be something he wasn’t. But having parts of yourself, parts that you hadn’t fully come to terms with or knew existed, read back to you like a biography was almost an out of body experience.

Did he care? Sure. He wasn’t a sociopath. River cared about his family. He cared about the burden dropped on his shoulders and not wanting to fail. He cared about making a good first impression with Anissa, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. And he cared about what people thought about him, especially everyone at camp that he was forced to lead. He cared about it more than he should, to the point that a constant sensation of dread nagged at the back of his mind and lingered in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn’t something he hid or kept locked away, but his cold and broody nature must have made that part of him harder to notice. Part of him hoped that he didn’t come off as someone who couldn’t care less. Anissa was the first person in awhile who had taken more than five minutes to try and understand who he was beyond face value. Maybe River was mysterious. Poseidon would rather that, than a soft son who cared too much about how everything he did was perceived.

"So…" he started, breaking the momentary silence. "I’m not a sexy vampire?" River looked over at her with a raised brow and faint grin.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Anissa replied, "but no. Zero sparkling detected. Butttttt, if it makes you feel better, I'm still reserving judgment on 'sexy ocean boy.' Jury's still out."

By this point in the conversation, he should have known better than to give her more ammunition. "Noted." River laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. He avoided her gaze as he focused all his attention on trying to keep from blushing.

The path circled around the arena and led them past the armory. The trees grew more sparse as everything started opening up. They were getting close to the party. River could hear faint music and smell the burning wood of a bonfire. He looked over at Anissa beside him, snowflakes speckling her dark hair. He wished he hadn't made a fool out of himself countless times and that he had a better understanding of how to act around others, especially girls. But there was a quiet part of him that was thankful it didn't scare her away. Maybe she was crazy. That had to be it.

Amused at his own thought, a chuckle escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, trying to cover it up as she moved his gaze from her to the path ahead. They had maybe five minutes left before their little bubble of solace broke when they joined the party. Realizing it might be their last chance to have a conversation before disappearing into a crowd of demigods, River took the opportunity to learn something of his own. "What’s something you like?" he asked. His pace slowed as he looked back over at her. "It can be anything."

River could see a small smoke column dissipating into the night's sky above a sizable bonfire. Nestled behind the armory up against the side of the arena was a countdown that hung on the wall showing that there was around 5 hours before midnight. Leaning against the wall beneath it was a large mound of snow with several lanes for sledding. On the other side of the bonfire was a small ice skating rink and some sort of dance floor and music. Near the dance area was a rather large and stocked bar that seemed to be getting a lot of attention. Then scattered throughout the grounds of the field were various tables, chairs and enough demigods to make him want to turn tail and run.

Anissa slowed at his question, her boots scuffing against the packed snow. She didn’t answer right away, needing a moment to sift through the sudden intimacy of the inquiry. What did she like? Simple pleasures felt oddly complex under scrutiny. Her gaze dropped, focusing intently on the patterns the frost made beneath her tread, as if the swirling ice crystals held the answers.

“The rain,” she finally offered. “The heavy kind. The sort that drowns out everything else.” As she spoke, the words pulled at that memory of looking for that thing buried under the magnolia. While she had been disappointed, the girl could admit now that there had also been that feeling of being utterly alone yet not afraid, somewhat lost yet surrounded by the downpour’s roar that could drown out the dead’s demands. Her calm delivery couldn't mask the distant look that clouded her eyes at that moment, transporting her to that place, far from the snowy path and River’s presence. It was a specific kind of solitude, that loudness, she rarely admitted to needing.

Anissa became aware then that she’d revealed more than intended. To counter it, she grasped for something simpler. “Also, lemon pastries. The flaky kind. There was a bakery that sold them back home that I loved buying them from.” She turned her head towards him, her expression neutral but her eyes filled with a defensive curiosity. “Why do you ask? You’re not planning to try and make them, are you?”

"The rain is nice," he agreed with a nod. He couldn’t agree when it came to the lemon pastries though. River wasn’t a big fan of lemon beyond lemonade and even then, he had to be in the mood for it. His brows knit together as he looked at her and chuckled behind closed lips. "No? I mean, I can? But I’m not a very good cook." He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "You asked a question, so I figured I’d ask my own. Ya know, before I go be broody and mysterious." Or, more importantly, before everyone has her attention. Anissa was beautiful and playful. If guys at camp weren’t dying to get to know her they were either blind or stupid… or both.

Anissa snorted.

“So you are leaning into the brand now. Bold strategy, but I approve.”

But even as the teasing words left her lips, a more significant realization settled in the back of her mind, warming her from within. He hadn’t brushed off her answers about the rain or the pastries. Crucially, he hadn’t tried to pry deeper either, to dissect why she liked things that demanded nothing, which was a relief as she wasn’t ready to unpack that fully herself.

It was…refreshing, to say the least.

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head once to the side. "Play to my strengths, right?"

River came to a halt at the edge of the field. He stood close enough that the toes of his shoes brushed against the frostbitten grass, teasing to take one more step and officially enter the party. He leaned slightly toward Anissa but kept his gaze fixated on the festivities ahead. "I like sunrises," he confessed, offering his own answers to his question, even if she didn’t ask. "Most people see sunsets everyday. But you have to be up early, or late, for a sunrise. It’s quieter. Less people. You get to feel everything getting warmer as the day comes to life."

There was a peaceful serenity to a sunrise as it glistened off the waves of a morning tide. River would often eat his breakfast sitting in the sand on the beach, watching the sun come up and paint the sky shades of pink and orange. The best mornings were on the days of a big swell where he woke up before the sun. There was something indescribable about being on his board, riding a wave as the world inhaled its first breath of the day. He’d take a sunrise over a sunset everyday.

"I also like coconut," he added, sparing a glance over at her. "Anything coconut, really. But my favorite is those little coconut shavings—" he rubbed the tips of his thumb, index and middle finger like he was sprinkling a garnish, "—like the ones you find on desserts or chocolates."

Realizing they could no longer delay the inevitable, River sighed. "Back to the real world I guess," he mused as most of the light seemed to drain from his face. He put on a brave smile as he looked over at her. "Try not to break too many hearts out there, Beauty Queen."

Anissa arched an eyebrow, lips curling in a slow, dangerous smile designed to make his stomach flip. “That’s only the second time you’ve called me that now,” she pointed out, her voice a low purr. “You holding out on me right now, Ocean Boy?”

She let the question hang just enough to make him wonder exactly what she meant before adding, “Or do you plan on calling all the girls at camp that?”

Anissa didn’t truly expect or need an immediate answer to her question; its purpose was more about watching his reaction and keeping him slightly off-balance. Her attention had already begun to drift, a bit of movement snagging her focus just beyond the bright circle of bonfire light. There, partially swallowed by the darkness near an oak tree, stood a tall figure.

The side of River’s mouth curved into a lopsided grin. A singular weak laugh escaped his lips. "Nah, I’ll let you have that one," he replied with a surprising calmness. Her playfulness was already starting to rub off on him. Next thing he knew he’d be teasing and cracking jokes like it was normal.

Recognition prickled, a plan already in mind for what she wanted to do next once finished here: apologize. Yet, turning her attention fully away from River also proved harder than she’d expected, the warmth of their unusual exchange creating a strange tug of reluctance.

Finally, Anissa managed to push past the unexpected resistance. It’s not like he would just… leave the party, right?

“Guess I’ll see you around, then?”

River nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Sure thing," he replied with a subtle confidence and a faint smile. He was reluctant to let the conversation end there. Several more laps around camp with Anissa’s teasing and him making an utter fool of himself sounded better than what lied fifty feet ahead.

Rather than follow her in, River decided to hang back at the edge of the field with his hands shoved in his pockets, pacing back and forth in front of the infirmary. He tried his best not to watch as Anissa disappeared into the mix of demigods, focusing on his own well of anxiety that bubbled up in his stomach at the prospect of socializing. It took him nearly another five minutes of building up courage before he sighed and finally stepped onto the field… There was no turning back now.

With each step River’s feet grew heavier like there were lead blocks strapped to the soles of his shoes. Before he knew what he was going to do or where he was going to go, his feet were carrying him in the direction of the bonfire. It seemed to be the least busy area of the party, aside from the sledding hill, which he had no desire to partake in, at least right now. He made his way to a log bench opposite a petite brunette with a puppy and a glass of wine with the large fire separating separating them. Luckily he wouldn't be expected to socialize... for a moment or two anyway.

End of collab pt. 2/2



interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... anatoliy & sloane ............... collabs ....|.... @Qia
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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Pristine1281
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Pristine1281 Long-time Roleplayer

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#808000 ~ Outfit ~ Party



Camp leader magic huh? Heath would take that when Andy answered his question. He wasn't surprised and he wouldn't delve any further either. Simple explanations were the best anyway and he knew Andy wasn't lying either. She could have not answered him either. He also made note that the magic would be gone by midnight. He was glad he decided to wear boots. He knew he wouldn't stay past midnight regardless, but he didn't know how long Iliana was staying. He hoped he could convince her to leave when he did. One thing was for sure, he was going to make sure she didn't get taken advantage of. He had seen her with Duke, so he wouldn't worry about him.

His attention was diverted when he saw Wes sneaking up on Trinity. He maintained his silence and couldn't help but chuckle when Wes did grab Trinity. He averted his gaze when Wes kissed Trinity. He wasn't used to PDAs, plus he wanted to be respectful too. He didn't need to have powers like Ethan or well, Wes himself, to know the two were devoted to each other and it was nice to see. While he wasn't looking for anyone, he did hope that if sister found someone, he would be respectful and kind like Wes.

After Wes left, who should appear next but the very man Sofia was hoping to meet, Mason. He waved back when the son of Hades waved at him. He remained silent watching him interact with Andy before she left to go mingle with other campers. Unlike Wes and Trinity, Andy and Mason had issues it seemed. But Heath had to remind himself not to get involved for it wasn't his business.

Suddenly, Trinity asked him a question that perplexed him at first, but when he saw what she was doing, he figured it out.

"Belhaven please," he requested before she gave him one.

No sooner had she gave him his drink, Trinity ordered Mason to follow her. She was not happy with him. Alone by himself, Heath looked around. Andy had approached a redhead male, Iliana was still with Duke, and Wes had gone to play a game it seemed. He saw Evelyn in that group with two new faces. He'd be lying if he didn't feel instantly drawn to the blonde female, but he immediately dragged his eyes away from her to the male and instantly felt calm. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, although he knew he never met the man. Not wanting to stare, Heath looked elsewhere. He saw Veronica's familiar face as she joined Nelly and Sofia on the ice. That brought a grin to his face. He would have joined the trio, but there was no way he was getting on the ice. He would be sure to talk to Veronica later though, just to see how she was. Nelly was gregarious, so he had no doubt she'd keep the two entertained at the very least, if they could handle her energy. In the corner of his eye, he saw Lochlan come, but was a bit surprised to see Blair wasn't with him. He wouldn't bother asking him. Despite being his sister too, Heath didn't know Blair, but he wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to arrive 'fashionably late'. Next he saw Daniel approach a new camper on the dance floor. Heath saw a lone male and would have joined him, but another new camper, this time female, approached him. Sylas was nearby and Fiona had just talked with him. He internally wished her luck with him. He knew now she was another daughter of Hera, thankfully unlike that last daughter, she was nicer. The memory of Eve brought a groan out of Heath. Finally he saw a new male camper sit next to Sloane. Seeing Sloane out was a relief. And that dog of hers with her too. Heath was fine with dogs. His aunts had several terriers to help with pests. He knew she was an introvert, but he did want to thank her for what she did with the Pandora's box incident.

Approaching her slowly, he nodded to her.

"Evening Sloane. I won't take up your time, but I just wanted to say thanks for saving the camp. Have a nice evening." he said before nodding the man near her.

He walked back to where he was previously, taking another sip of his beer while watching the campers interact.


Interactions ~ Trinity @xNocturnax, Sloane @Mjolnir ~ Mentions ~ Everyone else at the party






#f1724b ~ Outfit ~ Party Ice Rink



Nelly watched as more people showed up. If no one joined her soon, she definitely would get off the ice to start mingling. A couple of campers were about to play bean bag toss while others were getting food or drinks. Lucky for her though, someone soon joined her on the ice.

"Hey, there, I see someone else had the good idea of ice skating tonight. I am Sofia, and I was not expecting this today."

"Hi! Name is Penelope, but please call me Nelly. My dad gave me that name, and it fits me better, rolls of the tongue easier. And yeah, I wasn't expecting an ice rink either, but I have a pretty good idea on how it got here."

Her first thought was either Andy or Daniel since they could create anything. She refocused on the new camper though.

"Love your hair by the way! I once tried that shade when I turned 18, but that color looked awful. My mom had a good laugh over it. She had warned me that white would wash me out and she was right. I am a red-head, but this shade of red isn't my true color either. It's normally the brownish red, but I wanted it to be a bit redder this time."

She would have continued, but she saw Veronica approaching them. She slowed down since she could see the girl struggle. If need be, she'd sweep in to lend a hand.

"Sorry, I just got so excited by this. It’s been too long since I was last on the ice, and I couldn’t help myself. Hello!”

She waved at her before extending a hand to Sofia before pulling it back.

"Sorry again, I was going to shake hands, but I'd worry we’d go tumbling. Nice to meet you, I’m not good at this but I’m Veronica. Hello, hi!”

Nelly waited for Sofia to greet her back before speaking back up.

"You're doing fine, Veronica. At least you got out here. And don't worry, I'll help you stay on your feet. I am fast after all with great reflexes hehe. So what have you been up to Veronica? I've seen you hang out around Iliana and Heath. Have you tried getting to know Wes better?" she asked her.

Not wanting to leave Sofia out though, Nelly turned to her again.

"How are you liking camp so far Sofia? If you need help getting around, just ask me, my dad is Hermes and he blessed me with perfect visual memory."


Interactions ~ Sofia @Theyra, Veronica @Fabricator ~ Mentions ~ Wes
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Sir Sparky
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Sir Sparky That Guy

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B45F06 .....|..... outfit .....|..... Party



Andy came closer and Mason stifled a sigh expecting a lecture or some comment that he was an ass and she still couldn’t be emotional around him. He had just got there. But she stood close. Too close and she stared. Instead in such a quiet voice she said something completely unexpected. "You look handsome." He thought he must have misheard. If it wasn’t followed up by a kiss on his cheek and hand on his chest. She let her hand drift along him. Mason extended his arm and briefly and ever so gently, skimmed his fingers through hers prolonging her touch for a second.

Again, he was in half a mind to squeeze her hand and just tug her back to him but he let the contact remain hers and short. Though she didn’t make it easy. The last thought he had to do, she ended up acting out.

“I’ll find you later,” he promised.

Mason stared after her. She looked amazing, a combination of modest, cute and sexy all in one. He tried not to stare because staring from behind looked piggish but…she wasn’t easy to peel his eyes away from.

Trinity snapped him out of his happy day dream. Literally. “You. Me. Talk.”

He knew it was coming but he still sighed out with a roll of his eyes and followed her. She looked to be in turmoil over something for a moment. Maybe she’d even spare him a lecture. But she walked on. “Look-”

Trinity stopped sharply in front of him that he bumped into her. “Whatcha doing Romeo?”

He looked off in annoyance taking a step back. It wasn’t much use fighting with Trinity. Besides, he had long admitted to his fuck up. Getting re-scolded about it wasn’t going to change anything. “I know,” he answered dully.

“You need to shape up. Andy deserves better from you. She needs better from you. If you’re not gonna step up to the plate and keep treating her like she’s alone or expendable then you need to leave her alone. You don’t get to do this Hades brooding bullshit. Last thing she needs is to feel like she’s dating Ajax again.”

“I know!” He snapped this time. Mason clenched his fists. “I know,” he said again more evenly. “Don’t compare me to him.” Mason despised Ajax and the way he treated Andy, choosing a bratty bitch sister constantly over his own girlfriend unless he wanted to get intimate. He used and abused her. They weren’t the same.

“I can acknowledge I’m faulty. Big time. But me and him don’t even belong in the same sentence like that.” He pat down his pockets for a smoke, catching some girl at the bar putting out one of hers. Unless she was drowning a stick.

While he was stressed, why not add to it. “Does Andy think I’m the same?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Look, obviously you’re doing something.” She gestured up and down him. He supposed it was nice someone saw some effort. “But you need to make it up to her tenfold.”

Mason sighed again. “I want to. I mean I’m trying but I don’t even know if I can hug her or kiss her… or just give her space.” Mason watched Andy converse with some big red-ginger then looked back at Trinity. “If you know what she wants me to do, tell me. Please. Because I’m lost.”

Somewhere along the way, he had lost Trinity, her eyes mostly drawn on his outfit. “Did Wes recommend?”

Mason laughed dryly. “None of what the self-nominated camp counsellor recommended said dress like this. I don’t need his advice or 'recommendations' anyway.” His eyes found Wes and he scoffed. That boot licker only served as nosy and an annoyance in the hall.

“None of it's his business. Or yours.”

Mason jutted his head in the direction of the group playing cornhole. “Shouldn't he be more focused on his relationship with you and the lack of arm?” One would think being handicapped, healing from the box and having a daughter of Ares would preoccupy his day rather than caring about other people's relationships. "Or has he been too focused on Alex leaving?" They were the best of best friends after all. He'd hardly be surprised if they fooled around before Trinity got involved with Wes. Or during.


interactions ....|.... Andy, Trinity ............... mentions ....|.... Wes

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Hidden 12 mos ago 12 mos ago Post by Blizz
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Blizz Archmage of the Fucking Universe / Etc

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Marlen Ross


Child of Apollo * Main Hall


There were two types of people.

The ones who were smart, and the ones who learned. Marlen was the latter.

They’d slept in cold weather before. Had to, even. There were ways to make snow feel warm without melting, or to turn a metal coffin that people used to drive into something passable as overnight shelter. But that was typically in an American environment. In American winters, which weren’t so bad as the ones in this remote forest a hemisphere away. And so, the time-honored process of fucking around and finding out reminded Marlen how exactly they got by all those years. By not being a stubborn fuck.

They didn’t spend much time fussing over decorations in the cabin they picked. A bag was dropped to the floor, a blanket was tossed over Marlen’s shoulders, and they spent the next couple of hours just chilling. The party would be a good opportunity to figure things out and learn who people were. They just rested and waited patiently for a while. Without any real reason to move around or take a walk, they just didn’t. It was a long trip, and Marlen was used to long trips enough to take rest when it was available.

Maybe they’d all be as okay as Iliana.

It was probably an hour or so, maybe longer when Marlen decided to head back out. They weren’t really sure. They rummaged through their belongings and changed out of the lightly damp clothing they wore here. Replacing it, they put on not a fancy outfit suited for a party, but a parka that was a little big on them. It was old, and definitely worn a lot.

They searched around for a mirror, and shot a finger gun at it.

”Okay. Party time, party time… Proud of me yet, dad?”

There wasn’t a response.

Back out into the cold they went.

Marlen couldn’t easily imagine being around a lot of people. What were they meant to say? Hi, how’s the weather? That wouldn’t work, the weather was cold. Wonderful day we’re having? Nope, it was midnight. The thought plagued them while they wakes the distance from their cabin out into the broader areas of the camp. They used to go weeks without even laying eyes on a human being, let alone interacting with one. But this was supposed to be a new start, in a way. Marlen didn’t have to do it perfect. They just had to do it.

A bonfire was burning in the distance. There was one singular person sitting by it, from what they could see.

So Marlen approached, reaching behind their back and conjuring up a guitar. Holding it by the neck, with the body resting on a shoulder, they came within view and fixed a look on the demigod of water.

”This seat taken?”


interactions ....|.... River ............... mentions ....| @Mjolnir....
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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by Qia
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Qia A Little Weasel

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Putting the bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade with strawberry in it down, he positioned himself up against the tree, and he began to tune his guitar. Gently stringing the cords as he made sure they all lined up with the song that he wanted to play — E A D G B E. As he plucked the cords a few times to get the proper sound, he was ready to play, and he began to hum the tune while closing his eyes. A habit of remembering exactly how the song goes and the lyrics.

Hitting the cord Am with a pause before hitting a second cord, F. With memory and precision, he began to play the intro cords before adding the lyrics. ‘There was a time, I used to look into my father’s eyes,

In a happy home, I was a king, I had a golden throne,

Those days are gone, now the memories are on the wall,

I hear the songs from the places where I was born,
’ throughout the intro, he was hitting the cords Am, G, and F. And he continued hitting these cords while moving into the chorus.

Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child,

See heaven’s got a plan for you,

Yeah~

Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child,

See heaven’s got a plan for you,

Don’t you worry, don’t you worry now,
’ He continued to hit those same notes on beat. His eyes opened so he could look around and focus on what was happening at the party. Anatoliy was trying to figure out if he wanted to join in on all the festivities or not. It was a difficult situation even though he knew it shouldn’t be. And he took a deep breath as he continued to play.

There was a time, I met a girl of a different kind,

We ruled the world, I thought i’ll never lose her out of sight,

We were so young, I think of her now and then,

I still hear the song reminding me of a friend,
’ he took a breath and closed his eyes again. Anatoliy was using his hands to make sound effects with the music, tapping his guitar, and other things in a fashion that brought his baritone voice and the strings of the guitar together.

Up on a hill, across the blue lake,

That’s where I had my first heartbreak,

I still remember how it all changed,

My father said,
’ a longer pause followed these lyrics as if he was truly thinking about his father. He was.

Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child,

See heaven’s got a plan for you,

Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child…
’ A faint smile was on his face as he was playing this song because he honestly loved the songs from the early to mid-2000s. They were great vibes even though he felt like no one listened to them much anymore. Everything was rap or club music to an extent. However, he knew how to play most on acoustic.

Anissa idly swirled the liquid in her glass – cranberry juice mixed with fizzy club soda and a slice of lime, deliberately avoiding anything alcoholic. The bar was already humming with life, and a few others had already claimed their spaces along the counter or drifted in and out, including someone in a striking emerald-green dress who had just slipped in near the edge, moving with an air of someone who hadn’t intended to be late but absolutely had been. Not that Anissa could judge her for that. She’d done the same, albeit for far more selfish reasons. Though truthfully, she’d needed the extra time to…breathe. To recalibrate her mind as close as possible to what it had been since there was no way that she would have two good conversations in a row with someone who did not regard her as broken for not knowing who her father was, and weird because she was, well, her.

…Right?

Anissa remained there for a few more minutes before finally giving in, moving away and towards her intended target. A quick scan of the crowd revealed his silhouette still by the oak tree where darkness bled into frost. It wasn’t until she got closer that she realized he wasn’t just standing there anymore; he was sitting with a guitar in his hand, playing it.

She slowed her pace enough that by the time she reached the outer edge of his space, the last notes were still fading in the air. She hesitated, then took a breath and stepped fully into view.

“Hi again,” she offered, her voice lacking its usual confidence, sounding almost shy, a tone that felt foreign even to her own ears. A small smile touched her lips as her eyes darted towards the instrument resting against him, then quickly lifted back to meet his gaze. “Didn’t know you played.” Which, in retrospect, once the words had left her mouth, was a stupid thing to say. She didn’t really know him at all.

He sat there against the oak tree and looked at her when she got closer and began to talk — the girl with no name — and he instantly felt stupid. The few cords that he struck sounded awkward and faint before they faded. He stopped playing the guitar. His mind didn’t know if he should respond with sarcasm, sass, or be open-minded. She walked away from him early so why was she walking up to him now? He was naturally suspicious because of the lifelong trauma of negative interactions he had with people.

When you walk away from someone, you usually don’t get to know anything more about them,’ he quietly replied while looking up at her eyes before his eyes fell to the ground. It was as if he was trying to distance himself and get comfortable instead of feeling like he was right there in front of her. Anatoliy still didn’t know what he did early to make her walk away but he was already 0 - 2 for the night. Two people have walked away from him without him fully understanding how he messed up. He knew she didn’t know that a second person walked away from him already but it was still internally embarrassing.

“Yeah, well.” Anissa shifted her weight restlessly from one foot to the other, a physical manifestation of the discomfort coiling within her. Her fingers tightened almost painfully around the surface of her glass, and even through her gloves, she could feel the slick condensation it left behind.“I tend to walk away from a lot of things.” People, she didn't say. “Doesn't mean I don't circle back.” It was a weak reassurance, offered more to herself than to him, acknowledging a pattern within her without promising consistent change.

And with that understanding of herself, Anissa couldn’t blame him for his response. His words were…true. Fair. She’d done exactly as he’d stated: walked away without explanation. Maybe she’d thought he wouldn’t care. Maybe part of her hadn’t wanted to care either. Regardless, she hadn’t come over here to defend herself, mainly because she found that she couldn’t.

“For what it’s worth…” the girl began, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I didn’t walk away because of you. So, I’m sorry if it seemed that way or if I hurt you.” The apology was simple, direct, and surprisingly difficult to voice. It acknowledged the potential impact of her actions, such as the perception she might have created and the hurt he might have felt, without sugarcoating her responsibility for creating the situation in the first place.

Anissa glanced down at her drink again, suddenly finding the bubbles fizzing along the rim fascinating. “Look, I’m not…great at this,” she admitted, a faint blush of frustration creeping up her neck. “But I want to make it up to you somehow. I just…I don’t know what that looks like.”

The apology didn’t make him feel better but it made him look up. It made him feel like he was getting pity. A part of him wanted to snap when she went on to explain how she wasn’t good at conversation. She sounded pretty good at it a few minutes ago when she and that one guy were discussing sunrises, anything coconut, rain, and lemon pastries. Stop with the pathetic excuses, the harsh thoughts clouded his mind. He had heard so many people, especially girls lie through their teeth — I’m not good at this, I didn’t mean to, sorry, etc… etc… etc…

Anatoliy wished he could disappear into the trunk of the tree that he was sitting against, ‘It really isn’t worth anything,’ he whispered those words under his breath. Then he spoke louder, ‘You don’t have to be nice to me. You know that right?’ he stood up, he was tall compared to Anissa, but he didn’t look down at her. He wouldn’t make eye contact and it was because he wanted to disappear and that was a way he could disappear.

He wasn’t comfortable at all and he didn’t understand why she was apologizing either. It didn’t make sense to him even though she gave him an explanation. She’s just being nice’ he thought and those thoughts were trying to encourage him to be nicer, but he didn’t want to be nice just because someone else might be pretending to. He wasn’t sure if she was just being nice out of pity or not, it was hard to tell, but his mind was so twisted from the past that he knew it was skewed at times.

Anissa held her ground as he rose to his full height, refusing to visibly recoil even as her shoulders locked in a subtle rigidity.

“Nice?” she repeated dumbly, her gaze lifting to follow the line of his averted profile as he refused to meet her eyes. Her jawline twitched, betraying the frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. His avoidance felt like a physical dismissal, the simplicity of his response stinging far more than outright anger would have.

She should walk away. Shouldn't pry. That’s what her instincts were telling her now, as they always did. She knew better than to pick at wounds, even when they were bleeding all over someone else's sleeves.

Then he sighed and glanced at her, ‘I’m sorry,’ he started off but he paused and looked away again. He was thinking out what he should truly say. ‘I’m sorry for not being very great in our first interaction but you don’t have to make it up to me at all. You don’t owe me anything.’ He didn’t like the feeling inside of his chest. It made him feel guilty. He didn’t like people owing him things and he didn’t like owing other people anything. It was an unwritten and non-vocal contact that he hated. It was being indebted for some reason… some emotional reason and emotions always led you astray. His stormy blue eyes wandered over to Anissa to notice how awkward she looked as well.

Anatoliy’s words hooked her before she could drift too far. Not because they fixed anything, but because they sounded like they cost him something to say. And when he went on, her expression didn’t change, at least not right away. But something in her jaw eased, and the instinct to bolt, so loud moments before, quieted just a decibel.

“I know I don’t owe you, but I still feel like…” Anissa replied, her voice trailing until pausing briefly to think about what exactly had stood out during their interaction. Then, she stuck out her hand, smiling awkwardly. “...like I should have at least given you my name. It’s Anissa. Anissa Quinn. Daughter of…Adrianna Elise Quinn.” Though internally she knew it wasn’t the same, it was easier to pretend, if only for this moment, that her mortal mother was the only parent that mattered.

His eyes flicked over to her when she introduced herself and the name clearly by her mortal parent. ‘The only parent that I really know is my dad, Ivan Voronin,’ he tried to be comparable in a way and he really didn’t want to bring up how his father died when he was seventeen. He knew he stated his parent was Artemis but he wasn’t sure if that was the issue with their interaction early — he was not going to bring that up unless asked from now on either. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Anissa Quinn,’ he added on with simplicity as his eyes locked onto her darker ones.

And da,’ he mildly replied. ‘Nice.’ he emphasized his words. ‘You didn’t seem very interested earlier and maybe that was a lot of my fault, but I’ve already had two people walk away from me today for reasons I still don’t understand, so I don’t understand why you are interested in being nice to me now. Be that pity or guilt. I don’t care about either. Maybe go back to the guy you were having fun with. Talking about sunshine and lemon pastries,’ Anatoliy began to walk away.

Anissa's outstretched hand hung suspended in the unnaturally warm air, a futile gesture of connection that felt suddenly foolish of her to try. Because Anatoliy was right about one thing: she wasn’t a “nice” person. Not in any truly meaningful way.

Nice girls didn’t lie to their mothers about the strange bruises blooming on their arms or sneaking off to faraway camps without a proper goodbye. They didn’t disappear during group projects or shudder when someone brushed past them in a hallway. Nice girls didn’t ghost their friends after blacking out in a bathroom stall with voices whispering in their ears, or wake up in graveyards with dirt under their fingernails and no memory of how they got there. And nice girls definitely didn’t hurt people just by touching them, whether they meant to or not.

So, Anissa Quinn wasn’t “nice.” She was careful. She was contained. And for once, earlier, just briefly, she’d let herself believe she didn’t have to be. Much like she’d done to others, she’d lied to herself, unintentionally or not.

Seconds stretched painfully before her arm dropped limply to her side, and she remained utterly still, watching the rigid line of Anatoliy’s retreating back. Her paralysis wasn’t born from a lack of response, though. Gods no. Her mind churned violently, a chaotic storm of retorts, justifications, and defences rising like acid in her throat, thick enough to choke her as she refused to let any of it out. That seductive urge to simply turn away surged powerfully once more: let him choke on his bitter assumptions of her character, let him paint her as that shallow caricature of the careless flirty schoolgirl making pity rounds just to feel a fleeting moment of desired attention. It would be easy. It was her oldest reflex.

But something about the way he said lemon pastries...the venom behind it. The way it reduced everything that had been said between River and her to a joke. It flipped a switch.

“That wasn’t fair,” Anissa said, not even bothering to raise her voice. She knew he could hear her now anyway. “You don’t get to eavesdrop on a private conversation like some kind of vole and then use it against me like that. I came over because I felt bad. Because I thought maybe I was the one who misread things earlier and hadn’t acted right. But you know what?” Her mouth twisted into something resembling a snarl.

“You don’t have to like me. You don’t even have to believe me. But don’t pretend you know anything about me and what I want or feel just because I laughed at someone else’s fucking joke. You don’t get to judge me when I didn’t judge you.”

He could smell the stress coming from her which honestly made him feel bad but he wasn’t going to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness at this point. Taking a few more steps away, he stopped, and he got eerily quiet and still. It wasn’t human like… it was more like an animal. ‘It wasn’t a private conversation when you were having it in a public space, right outside of a party, and right by me,’ he huffed out those words before turning and facing her. His eyes were sharp and focused on her.

Anatoliy approached her, ‘And wouldn’t you refer to me as a rat? You didn’t know what a fucking vole was because all rodents probably look like the same god damn thing to you,’ he hissed out those words with a threatening tone. Aggression. ‘Don’t call me a vole when you are the one being a snake,’ he got close to her. Right in front of her with barely any space in between them.

I don’t know you at all. I wasn’t assuming anything. I was just saying what I have witnessed and you couldn’t keep your actual demeanor hidden for more than five minutes. And I don’t care if you laugh at other people’s jokes. I don’t fucking know you and at this rate, I rather not know anything about you,’ Anatoliy’s words were harsh but he truly didn’t want to know who she was at all. She literally came over and was surprised he played guitar like she gave him more than a handful of minutes to talk about himself earlier before walking away.

He leaned over and deeply inhaled right by the side of her face before straightening back up, ‘And I won’t pretend I know anything about you but you know what? You’ll give all that away by how you smell,’ Anatoliy snapped those words out of him. ‘So leave me alone and go bother someone else and stop acting like you are a saving grace that didn’t judge me at all. Your face doesn’t lie. You should have been looking in a fucking mirror when I introduced you to Ip, and you know what? Ip is a very lovely vole, so I am glad I am more like a vole than a fucking human like you!’ Those words were shouted at her. His face was so heated, his whole body felt hot, and tears started to roll down his cheeks. Anatoliy turned away and began walking away. He wasn’t walking towards the party. He was heading back to his cabin — wishing that Rocco never woke him up, so he didn’t have to experience this.

His one hand came up to rub at his eyes as he totally forgot about the mascara and eyeliner he was wearing and it smeared on his face. Making him look dirty. Though he couldn’t find that he really cared at the moment, his throat was itchy and aching, his eyes stung, and he wanted to scream. He was so upset and distracted by his own mind, his head was beginning to throb from a tension headache, and he completely forgot that he left his guitar by the tree.

Anissa didn’t move when he shouted. She did not move when he stormed off. She simply stood there, frozen, her glass still clutched in one gloved hand, the other limp at her side. Her pulse slammed against her ribs, and her breath felt too loud in her throat, like it didn’t belong to her at all. The air still held the shape of his voice, his anger, but more than that, his nearness. The way he’d leaned in. The way he’d breathed her in like a predator memorizing something.

Her scent.

That was the detail that clung to her the most, sticky and cold. Not the insults or the cruel name he’d flung at her but the shocking, unwelcome intimacy of that single sniff. Uninvited. Deeply unnerving. A primal violation registered far deeper than mere words.

Eventually, feeling returned to Anissa’s legs with a pins-and-needles rush, unlocking her frozen stance. Yet, rather than move towards the party, she pivoted, her steps carrying her towards the dark embrace of a few nearby trees.

The shadows met her halfway.

As always, they offered no demands for explanations, no expectation of apologies. They simply detached themselves from the tangled undergrowth and stretched towards her in a silent, understanding welcome. Anissa didn’t force them; she rarely commanded this retreat. She simply… stepped sideways from the tangible world and allowed her physical outline to soften and blur, her racing heartbeat to slow to a thick, sluggish rhythm. Her form shimmered, becoming insubstantial and ghostly, tucking itself seamlessly between thick tree branches and pools of profound darkness. And for a fleeting second, the ambient warmth of the forest night recoiled while a chill pulsed lightly outward from her hidden form, causing a bead of dew on a low-hanging leaf to instantly crystallize into frost.

She held that faded state for perhaps sixty seconds or so. Long enough for her panic to dull. Long enough to draw one deep, shuddering breath that didn’t feel like broken glass dragging along the inside of her chest.

And then, the dam cracked. Anissa buried her face in her hands, shoulders hunching, and a single, choked sob ripped itself from her throat.

It escaped like pressurized steam bursting through a pipe, muffled, violent, and scalding. It was, however, the only release she permitted herself. Any longer and the clinging shadows might start leaching precious fragments of memory, the price for their comforting oblivion. Instantly, she stepped back out. The shadows slid off her vanishing form like layers of discarded, silken skin, abandoning her to visibility and solid weight once more. The cool night air brushed the side of her face, exactly where his breath had hit her skin moments before. Revulsion surged. She scrubbed roughly at her cheek with her glove, as if she could scour away the phantom sensation of his breath and the humiliating sting of having tried to be decent and utterly failing.

Anissa kept her head turned away from the other partygoers as she returned to the light, her eyes making out the guitar Anatoliy had left behind like an afterthought. She approached it slowly and crouched beside it, her fingers hesitating just above its neck as the strings caught the light with a metallic glint. And for a moment, she just stared.

Because she didn’t know if picking it up would be kind or cruel.


Location: Near the outskirts of the party
Interactions: Collab between Anatoliy (@The Savant) and Anissa (Me)
Mentions: Rosalia, River, Sloane, Others at the bar in passing.
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