[img]https://i.imgur.com/JAFb3tJ.jpeg[/img]
[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/right][right][sup][color=#5a3e85][b]#5a3e85[/b][/color][color=2e2c2c]...[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]...[/color][url=https://imgur.com/aGarb8T][color=9b9b9b][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url][/sup][/right]


[indent] [color=#808000]“Go ahead and get some food in you, then.  Don't worry about the guitar.  I hope you feel better, too.”[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Thanks…Heath.” [/color][color=#ffffff]Anissa said softly with something adjacent to gratitude. She watched him take the guitar, her arms folding across her midsection as her lips pressed together in a strained, ambiguous shape, somewhere between a smile and a wince. She didn’t say anything else or try to stop him, standing there a moment longer with the absence of the guitar feeling like a strange kind of relief. Then, she turned and walked in the opposite direction, toward the table of food and noise and people, where no one would be watching her too closely. Or so she assumed. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]As she walked, her gaze drifted across the scene with fresh curiosity. The party had blossomed in her absence; a few attendants were migrating toward the makeshift dance floor, including the girl in the green dress she'd noticed earlier, now swinging hands with a vaguely familiar boy whose name escaped her. The oversight made her cheeks warm with mild embarrassment. She really should remember these people better.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Then, there was the ice-skating rink, small, makeshift, and glowing faintly with that enchanted warm frostiness that coated the whole night. Only two people glided across it, both girls deep in conversation, and Anissa found herself pausing, watching their smooth glides longer than intended. A memory surfaced, sudden and vivid: cold Vancouver mornings at the community rink, her mother's strong hands adjusting her scarf around her neck. [i]“It's a good date skill,”[/i] she'd teased, breath puffing white in the air. Young Anissa had scoffed but practiced diligently anyway. She remembered one spectacular fall, the sharp jolt of pain shooting up her spine, hot tears springing more from humiliation than injury. Still, she'd forced herself back up, determined to keep going until her mother's proud applause declared her ‘graceful’.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The memory tasted bittersweet. Graceful? Hardly. She'd been all trembling limbs and gritted teeth that day. Truthfully, she hadn't felt much of anything that entire frozen winter, just a numb detachment that even Canada's breathtaking landscapes couldn't pierce.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Shaking off the recollection, Anissa finally reached the snack table, although her eyes now wandered to the growing cluster at the bar. Andy (that was her name, right? From this morning?) was there along with a group of other campers, none of whom she recognized, before the brunette watched as the girl made her way to the dancefloor to join her brother (That was it! It was her brother! Not that this helped her to recall said brother's name.). The sight sparked a fleeting thought: maybe she should join them, try actual socialization for once. The idea, however, was so absurd she actually snorted aloud, coughing to cover up the mistake somewhat. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Yeah, right. That many people in one space? Absolutely not. She'd take whatever she could find here and a quiet corner, thanks.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The snack table sprawled before her like a culinary battlefield, delicious chaos in every direction. Skewers of grilled meat and vegetables stood at attention beside bowls of creamy hummus and stacks of warm pita. A tray of fancy mac and cheese, its golden crust still steaming slightly, sat next to rows of perfect mini burgers lined up like edible dominoes. Then she spotted the most bizarre pairing: a heaping bowl of gummy worms dumped into cheddar popcorn. Someone here had the snack preferences of a trash panda on a sugar high, and honestly? Anissa couldn't help but approve. This was her kind of party spread.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Anissa’s gaze locked onto a tray of black-and-white cookies, but her fingers hesitated mid-reach. Guilt gnawed at her appetite, twisting it into something complicated and unappealing. The memory of Anatoliy's angry face flashed behind her eyes, and something in her head told her she didn't deserve treats right now. Didn't deserve much of anything, really.[/color]

[right][i][color=#5a3e85]Oh, fuck right off with that![/color][/i][/right]

[color=#ffffff]Eventually, she grabbed a plate and added a small skewer, a half-scoop of the mac, and a single cookie. She didn’t trust herself with more. Her stomach turned at the thought of overeating, but she knew she’d regret having nothing later. Especially if she….[/color]

[color=#ffffff]A nearby pitcher of fruit punch caught her eye, its nail polish red glow practically radioactive. It looked like the kind of drink that would stain your tongue for days. Anissa glanced at her empty glass, then abandoned it at the table's edge (surely the magical cleanup crew would handle it).  She poured a cautious cup of the suspicious liquid, took an experimental sip, and immediately regretted it. The punch was cloyingly sweet, like drinking melted candy. Still, she knocked it back in one go, the sugar burning her throat like cheap liquor. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Penance tasted disgustingly saccharine.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]But enough feeling sorry for herself. She poured herself another. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Scanning the area, Anissa spotted an empty chair near the bonfire. Or mostly empty, unless you counted the mountain of food occupying some of the table space. Its owner, a dark-haired guy with rolled-up sleeves showcasing toned forearms, attacked his plate with single-minded determination. The intensity in his eyes suggested this was less a meal and more a personal challenge. Normally, she'd avoid someone so... enthusiastically invested in their food, but the alternative was standing awkwardly by herself. So….[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Is anyone sitting here?”[/color][color=#ffffff] she asked, tilting her chin toward the vacant seat. Her voice landed in that tone used when pretending to be socially functional. A polite smile followed automatically, muscle memory from countless similar interactions.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Fork halfway to his mouth, the guy looked up with genuine surprise, like he'd forgotten other humans existed. A smear of sauce decorated the corner of his lips, which he made no effort to wipe away. The lack of self-consciousness was almost impressive. Anissa could never. [/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Nope, go right ahead,”[/color][color=#ffffff] he said after swallowing his massive bite, waving his fork in invitation.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Anissa nodded and slipped into the chair, angling slightly toward the fire. The movement gave her a better view of her temporary dining companion: strong jaw, artfully messy hair, that particular brand of boyish confidence that usually set off her warning bells. The type she might’ve toyed with at parties back when she still got invited. She’d endure their inflated egos just long enough to feel something, then vanish the moment they expected emotional investment or a level of physical intimacy she couldn’t give, for her sake and theirs. She’d learned early that guys like this always needed to be the main character. So, she’d mastered the role of the compelling but ultimately forgettable side character in their stories. It was better that way. Safer.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The only downside was that, along with a handful of other labels her peers had started assigning to her, she’d earned a reputation for being a bit of a... [i]tease[/i].[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Except... this guy didn't leer. Didn't even give her that once-over that most guys did when a girl as pretty as her sat nearby. He merely returned to decimating his food like she was part of the scenery. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]What was with the guys at this camp? Except for maybe River (and even that was debatable), they all seemed immune to basic hormonal impulses. Strange. Maybe it was a demigod thing? Too much of a good thing available? [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Whatever. Anissa's attractions had always been...[i]flexible[/i] anyway. What could she say? Sometimes cookies were plain better.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]And, luckily for her, across from her male companion was a girl. A cute one. She had long dark hair that shimmered firelight down one side, a square-cut top that clung like it had been worn for comfort rather than performance, and the kind of face that would be easy to underestimate if you didn’t know better, she was sure. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Anissa kept her expression unreadable, eyes dipping to her plate. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“Food situation here’s kind of impressive,”[/color][color=#ffffff] she said mildly, then looked up and right at the girl. [/color][color=#5a3e85]“I almost committed a felony over one of these.”[/color][color=#ffffff] She lifted the single Oreo-like cookie on her plate as evidence. It wasn’t exactly an icebreaker, but it was something. And she’d learned that at least pretending you knew how to human properly was better than letting awkward silence win.[/color] 
[/indent][hr] 
Location: Outskirts of the field/party --> Snack Table --> Elias and Tappi's Table 
Interactions: Elias (Me), Tapeesa ([@Mjolnir]) 
Mentions: Heath, Andy + group at the bar, Rosalia, Daniel