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[sup][color=808080][color=#5c6d72][b]#5c6d72[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/vQtuWzG][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color][b]arena[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080][color=#808080]Theron watches [/color][color=#808080][i]everyone[/i][/color][color=#808080]. He’s observant, intense, with fingers steepled at his lips, elbows balanced on knees, and spine bowed with the level of scrutiny provided. Everyone is called ahead and before, finalized into groups on an alphabetical system that he quickly recognizes. The first, the second, then the third. The brim of the baseball cap layers his eyes in dusky shadows that shimmer with a film of amber, the golden pinprick of an analytically unforgiving predator that dismantles weaknesses and strengths; it’s a near second-nature inclination as he deciphers intention and habitual practices in the face of challenges. There were certain advantages in going first, and plenty more in going last, a multitude of strategies and dismantling of each course into its particular structure, through which Theron carefully constructed a predetermined execution of how he’d handle the obstacles, which seemed far more preferable than how the other demigods drifted into social circles and groups. [/color]

[color=#808080]Earlier, he had carefully moved away from the stone wall and found himself a seat at a reasonable distance, everything about his physique drawn in so tight as an ebony donned cluster of tension and uncertainty, he didn’t care to trade conversation after his earlier exhaustion with Callista, who seemed more interested in gazing ahead and transfixed on every word and expanse of skin revealed, and if anyone approached him… The shimmer carefully dispelled from his pressing gaze, blue-green glimpses peering forward as his hands slowly descended and interlinked; he thrust out his palms, each knuckle cracking loudly and swiftly. So much had happened, so much unknown, names he could not place, and events that linked so few together in traumatic tendrils by the mention of some enchanted box. As he had roamed the surrounding forests as both stag and hound, he had been privy to the sounds of their revelry, and part of him was glad to miss it. [/color]

[color=#808080]Even if he couldn’t deny that his eyes would flicker, briefly, shining carefully over a few of the campers, from dark, swaying tresses, to slivers of tan skin and pale delicacies, to the trilling of laughter that had previously seeded itself into his mind, a cheerful and twittering call of joy that Theron could not ignore as she completed the course as if it were a mere, long-lost friend of sorts. He marveled at that, the carefree spirit, how anyone could express themselves as such with such erratic bursts of joy. However, admiration was shortly given and lived, as Theron felt within the canine counterpart of his pacing in tight circles, unease spindling outward as the groups were called on, and on, the brush of fur against his expanding pores spelling a shudder down his back. He partially knew what was causing his anxiety, the other responsible unease, though, was how those who had completed were filing back into groups, talking, checking in on one another, to which, what did that even mean, and how did they do it so casually?[/color]

[color=#808080]And then his name is called, finally, and in the final group no less, to which he stands to his full height immediately and reaches for his collar to pinch the silver zipper at his throat, with forefinger and thumb, he tugs down, the zipper giving way with a too sharp sound that whistled at his ears. Theron peeled off his jacket with quick, hastily done movements, white cotton tee loose over slim arms and muscles corded tight in his biceps and shoulders. He rolls them back, bones popping, grinding, the shift beneath his skin flaming heat through his entire core. He tugged the cap off his head, tossed it down on top of his jacket, and shoveled a quick gesture through his curling hair that fell over his brow as he approached the starting line. There are only four of them, but competition isn’t the domination, however, Theron cannot deny the temptation that stirs and ticks away at his bones, call it the animal nature, the predator that stewed betwixt his ribs, that inspired him to smooth his palm over the nape of his neck, his crown tipping side to side to ease the tension of his spine, a swift crack announcing his signal to start as everyone immediately formed and fell into line. It was similar to saving the best for last.[/color]

[color=#808080]The tires came easily, almost too easily, for Theron exuded the gracefulness of a deer, as if pointed limbs were slender haunches and smooth hooves. The logs, he vaulted over, as if the stag that had traveled the forest only days prior, he treated it all as the wood in which he thrived, the beams rising higher and higher, to which Theron used his palm, swung his weight over the third, the fourth, the fifth, less of a challenge for him than most. He landed with a soft thud, fingers to the ground. Two more, a dark-haired man and blonde woman, were quick to overtake his position, but Theron allowed them to pass, eyes flashing to amber in narrowed slits as they moved onto the low crawl.[/color]

[color=#808080]As if his serpentine self, he moved low and fast, clawing through loose grit and sand, hot and chafing, prickling against his forearms, sticking and clumping to his palm, and fitted underneath his fingernails. Theron endured it, dominated it, slithered out from underneath the wooden structure, and seized the thick, corded rope with his hands. His slender arms immediately flexed, and he propelled himself up the rope, thighs clenched around the swaying cord, feet pinched, and hand over hand, he hauled and pulled, the first touches of sweat coating his brow, gluing the curls of his hair just above his eyes, wavering between gold, blue, and green. A fluctuation of his mortal countenance before he reached the platform, only seconds behind as (Elias, he tells himself, from the roll call) moves onto the netted web swaying before them. As the kingly reign of his antlered counterpart, he pushed his feet across the thick rope nearest to him, swayed into it, and kept moving, his weight pitching forward only slightly as he neared the end, a small whoosh pumping out from his lungs. The threads of his shirt clung to the shadowed muscles of his back, chiseling out the surprisingly cut planes that lined the shoulder blades that cradled his spine. [/color]

[color=#808080]Another rope, to which Theron grabbed hold and eased himself backward, taking a small moment to judge the distance before he ran and vaulted himself, letting the rope loose from his grasp with a grunt as he hit the ground hard with his sneaker-clad feet. His balance wavered, only slightly, a subtle animalistic aggression lacing tight through his legs, the unification of his human nature struggling against the lull and temptation to shift into something faster, better, stronger. [/color]

[color=#808080]The balance beams shook underneath him next, but Theron held out his arms and took to it with ease, only listing to one side as he descended the final. As if in the forest still, every course is just another log, another clearing, another thicket of trees to claim. [/color]

[color=#808080]At the pool, Theron hesitated for just a moment and reached over his shoulders to bunch the fabric on his back, grabbing fistfuls of white cotton to haul it over his head to then gather at his wrists. He didn’t know if being shirtless was part of the curriculum, but the sweat glistening on collarbones and heaving pectorals convinced him otherwise as a subtle breeze moved over his skin. He dove into the water next as if the hound that had swam through rivers had come forth, that had galloped along the shores of lakes to wade through the waters and seemingly endless depths. Though dog paddling would definitely not get him anywhere, as he clasped his palms, forged his fingers into a pointed figure, and plunged them down into the waters to launch himself forward in powerful strokes that allowed him to nearly catch up with those ahead of him, leaving the fourth member of their group behind. Theron neared the final length of the pool, lifted himself from the waters with sloshing waves parting around the athletic lines of his core, his abdomen flexing, the water dragging against the fabric of his pants, exposing the sharp, rigid bones of his slender hips until he lifted his leg and used the brace of his knee to haul himself out entirely. The ground was utterly soaked, leaving him to leap over the muddy earth until he faced the ladder with dark curls clinging to his face. He shook his head to rid the water clinging to his face and once more carved wet hands through his locks to tackle the challenge ahead, literally. [/color]

[color=#808080]Theron leapt up on the first rung with a grunt and swung his left up, braced his foot, and pulled himself up, and up, trying to ignore the way his stance would quiver, the way his soaked shoe would slip from time to time. In his concentration, he barely acknowledged the slight edge on the tips of his fingers, that bestial nature peeking through and slivering out… No abilities, no powers, Theron cursed, relinquished his grip, and nearly lost it somewhere in between, suspended in the middle with pants working from his throat and shearing through his lips. He inhaled and took in sharp, whistling breaths through his nose as he regained his balance and footing and climbed the logs the rest of the way before scaling back down the other side. He landed with a thud, knees bent, arms slightly out, and shook out the tingling sensation in his hands that began prickling in his palms. [/color]

[i][color=#808080]Control,[/color][/i][color=#808080] he told himself, [/color][i][color=#808080]control.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080]The long jump, he ascended, barely hesitated, he jumped, vaulted, sailed through the air, and landed with much lighter grace, barely making a sound, as he would as a stag and rose just as gracefully, finishing just behind the others. Not making first didn’t bother him, not so much, but to finish nonetheless, in something he had never done, the first time he had participated in an activity with others that were, in many ways, and then not, like him. Different, but only different in their dominations rather than their mortal frailties. For a brief moment, a small smile bloomed there, something akin to pride that took hold, if only for a moment, before magic corded and blanketed over him, drying him immediately in such a way that he flinched. Theron shifted, feet moving, his entire body wound taut as he flashed his eyes towards River, eyes that shimmered a golden hue before he recognized their newly announced leader and paused, nodding his thanks before immediately moving to retrieve his jacket and cap, his shirt, now muddied, fisted in his right hand. He lamented over the loss of it, for just a moment, but had to remind himself that it was [/color][i][color=#808080]his[/color][/i][color=#808080] to ruin, another luxury, he supposed. Theron slowly pulled his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, leaving the ends open rather than zipping it closed, and immediately shoved his baseball cap back on his head, once more shadowing his eyes from view, as if effectively cutting himself off from the world. Again.[/color]

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[color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] river (sort of) [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] river, zelia, trinity, elias, daniel. [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]collabs[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] none[/color]
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