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4 yrs ago
Current Next time you find things going extremely well for yourself. Remember to brace for impact.
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4 yrs ago
This will never end because I want more / More give me more, give me more / If I had a heart I could love you / If I had a voice I would sing
2 likes
4 yrs ago
"I feel like I could eat the whole world raw."
4 yrs ago
When one of us goes to war. We all go to war.
2 likes
4 yrs ago
-Compares the murder of 50 innocent men and women to the murdering of a murderer- Hooookay. I'm not even American, but jesus those are literally non-comparable.

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Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II

Interactions: @Plank Sinatra
Mentions:@HereComesTheSnow


Marcy’s expression was perhaps a confusing one, as she regarded Dallas chewing on every aspect of the question. At first, he did what he was born to do, turn a question into an Oscar-award worthy monologue detailing such normalcies as dealing ADHD medication in a popular coffee chain bathroom. But when Marcy watched his cobalt-blue eyes roll up to the back of his head as she realized he’d have to give a genuine answer for her to be satisfied a smile crept upon her lips.

The fork collided with her nose, but didn’t leave before she could give it a quick peck. She purposefully looked at the fork rather than Dallas and mouthed ‘call me’ to it before letting her eyes roll back over to Apollo’s spitting image sitting across from her.

“Who, me?” She asked, a faux-shocked expression happily adorned by her. “The highlight of my year, three references? My, my. So many choices? Who wouldn’t hotly anticipate our annual drive-in date night? But then, perhaps we’ll be so lucky as to see Rhea get drunk enough to do karaoke to the Canadian national anthem for a fourth straight year? I suppose you’d also be obligated to put in some kind of bid towards Jonas’ big fight of the year. The one he really goes all out in. You know just gives it his all? But highlight?” Her tongue clicked as she purposefully averted her gaze, staring down at her now empty plate. She returned to meet Dal’s gaze after a heartbreakingly long five seconds. “I don’t know, what’re you up to in twenty minutes?”


Bianca Celestia Nuit sat upon a throne of carbohydrates and good vibes.

Tonight, I could lay my doubts to rest, and truly welcome into my arms companionship with the three others surrounding me. The mission hadn’t gone perfectly, in fact, there were fairly significant hiccups here and there. All the same, I regarded my teammates proudly and with the visage of someone who was not only content but fulfilled.

As I sat across from Jericho, diagonally from Skye and adjacent Luke I found myself unable to keep from smiling. Unable to keep from rocking back and forth with an overwhelming sense of joy, to stop from leaning on Jer’s boot even though it had just seen heavy use in the field. Because at the end of the day, I had been an asset to the team, not a liability.

I considered the path that had led me here. Through Gratia’s arms in Mistral, in that van, to Beacon, to Jer, to JBLS, to Luke, away from my father, here to this Waffle King, preparing for my return to Beacon once more. The last time I had returned in a stretcher, I was doted over, chastised and disregarded from active duty. This time, I was triumphant. I was everything Vignoble couldn’t be due to my status. Everything I wanted to be last time.

It was already done.

On to the next.

“I think we are in great company,” I said. Jer’s previous statement still hung in the air as my teammates regarded me as I did them. I laid my head down on Luke’s shoulder closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I peaked out at Skye and offered her another smile; this one was more pointed, playful. I picked up my glass and raised it, tipping it ever so slightly towards the table and clearing my throat. “To us, to JBLS. Fore tonight, we are all Waffle King’s and Queens.”




Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II & Rhea Franky Psomas

Interactions: @HereComesTheSnow, @Crimson Flame @Plank Sinatra @Krayzikk @Caasicam

Marcy observed the controlled chaos that was Dal’s breakfast at an Apollo diner. Things were thrown, he likened himself to a slut, he referenced his own romps with a child of Dionysus. It was good to be back.

She watched Beau leave, the man had removed his pink shirt and strode out of the room as if it wasn’t early an early morning café. Well, what were you going to do? When you hung around Dal too much you tended to lose clothing piece by piece. After last night and the soreness of her body this morning, Marcy was strictly in the laissez-faire mindset.

She picked at the food in front of her all the while touching on her own summer vacation. She talked about getting to damn a few souls to eternity in the void, a nice night she spent with an actress. Some other interesting tidbits she only half expected Dal to pay attention to. Though, to the boy’s credit in-between bouts of him scarfing food down he would pipe up to make a point, catching Marcy off her game. She had forgotten how observant Apollo’s favourite child could be.

As the sun began to assume its position and the bits of orange, peach and yellow fled from above them and gave way to pure ocean blue Marcy found herself watching outside. “What do you think will be the highlight of this year, Dal?” She asked, her voice was sweet. She looked warmly at him, letting her teeth gently rake her lip. “Any ideas?”




Rhea and Bekah shared a sentiment and glance when Liam knocked on the door. Rhea certainly didn’t mind the company, even if she felt a little weird given their dad’s. She wasn’t sure what Liam’s relationship with Zeus was, but she was sure he respected how big those shoes were to fill.

She graced him with a smile and a nod as she polished off her plate.

“Jonas these were seriously delicious.” She stretched out and offered a big toothy grin to her coach. “Man, I needed that.” He started to cook once more, and as he did he offered the group a question:

"In all of your years and all of your texts, who is a hero for running fearfully for the trees? I can recall none."

Rhea’s mind didn’t go to the history books. It wasn’t a question that demanded an answer. Jonas knew it already.

He wanted us to know that what we did, however it was handled by the staff, we were right. Whether they want to acknowledge it or not, it’s what they’ve been training us to do.

It was the right thing to do.

“You’re right.” Rhea confirmed quietly. She glanced at Dana; who’s compliment came as something of a surprise. Dana was always kind to Rhea, but not always as direct.

“Thank you, Dana. I’ve been working hard to improve, so, I’m glad it shows.” Rhea turned to the spitting image of Athena sitting across from her. “I've still got much to learn, though.” Rhea smiled half-heartedly at her, rubbing some sleep from her eyes.




Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II & Rhea Franky Psomas

Interactions: @HereComesTheSnow, @Crimson Flame @Plank Sinatra @Krayzikk




It was difficult to acknowledge when a bit hadn’t worked. As a lover of all things dramatic, this was chiefly true for Marcy. Marcella Bonaparte’s acting career began at the tender age of 8. She played Stella in Streetcar, it was a big part for such a small child, but the reviews spoke for themselves. The show was lauded, she was offered roles in Hollywood blockbusters and Bollywood musicals. But she gave it up for the real prize. Ending on top. Marcy’s rule when it came to acting? Never abandon a scene.

But,

Marcy looked at Dallas for a moment, and nodded. “Fair enough,” she added to the gesture. She sat beside the son of Apollo, watching his gaze turn from angry to mournful as the croissant hit fine china.

She slid the confectionery back towards him, shooting him an unconfident grin.

“Ah, Beau! Oui! It’s wonderful to meet you.” Marcy reached out towards the son of Aphrodite, allowing him to kiss her hand. “Of course, I’ve heard far and wide of Mr. DeRose.” Marcy offered him a smile she usually reserved for the damned and a sly wink. She could’ve sworn for a moment the room heated up. Her gaze returned to her side, to Dallas, he looked… Okay?

“I apologize for the theatrics, but, well, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Marcy turned, prying her gaze from Dallas. But even when she looked at Beau, her mind wandered back to Dal.

He was on edge, to put it lightly. She assumed, because of the reaming out from the headmasters. She feigned laughter with Beau, taking the opportunity to scan the son of Apollo once more. She saw the croissant looked as though it had been choked, the residue chalking the sides of his fingers. She could see his clenched jaw and the bite marks on his lower lip. The tension in his shoulders as they barely moved between breaths.

She gently covered his free hand with her own.

“Crazy night last night,” she started, her eyes belying the casual tone she carried and concern speckled across her expression. “You holding up alright?”





Rhea rubbed the back of her head at Jonas’ comment. “I know, I’m not trying to fight your battles it just pisses me off,” she spat. “Either way, I’ve got your back coach. If they try to kick any of you out of here, they’ll be kicking me out too.”

She wasn’t quite as quick as Bekah, Marcy, or Dal – but Rhea knew when someone wasn’t saying everything on their mind. She was getting that feeling from Jonas. She couldn't quite pin down whether it was suppressed anger, some concern he was currently tracking or if he was altering her training regimen on the fly while cooking. But whatever it was there was something he was thinking that he didn't want to share.

“I get the idea of their lazy form of justice, though. I don’t agree with it but I’ve seen it a hundred times before. My brothers-“ Rhea winced at the memory and offered a weak smile in the place of the words she had started. She saw Jonas’ gaze scan over to her as he took a deep breath. She braced herself to suffer questioning when the door opened behind them.

"Morning," Rhea returned Bekah’s smile and nodded at Dana.

"Yo," the conversation was between perhaps to two most utilitarian of their small posse. But their few words carried the weight of a won battle, there was an air of victory.

"What's for breakfast, Highwind? And is there coffee?"

"No coffee, didn't bring a machine and if Dal did, he didn't unpack it. Sorry. But forget that, what I've got here," he paused for dramatic tension. Thus, he began the final steps.

Rhea warmly greeted the two demigoddesses with kind and tired eyes as they took their seats.

Jonas made it look both casual, and artful as he topped his creation in beautiful goldenrod sauce and ocher flakes. The smell of the bacon that lay guarded beneath the ivory towers found gentle interplay with the light spicing.

"Enjoy. You've earned it."

Rhea was quick to help herself, getting everything she needed onto a plate before locating her fork and digging in.

She delicately and with great precision forced her fork through the soft exterior of the egg, allowing the yolk to tumble down the muffin and begin to pool onto the plate. She scooped up a forkful of egg, bacon and muffin and lifted it to her mouth.

She was transported back to Early July, 2007. She was sitting in a crammed movie theatre with her family, watching that Disney, no, Pixar? Dreamworks?

The movie with the fuckin’ rat that came every time he ate.

The scene where he eats some cheese off the fuckin’ dirt and like-

Fireworks happen?

It didn’t matter the eggs kicked ass and Jonas was a fantastic chef.

“Anyway,” Rhea forced words through the food. “I had a few things I wanted to go over with you for training. I was kind of slow until I got in the water.”

She swallowed hard, even she couldn’t contain the smile the eggs brought. “But that can wait for later.”

She turned to Bekah. “I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but I hadn’t seen you in action in a while. You’re stronger that I recalled, we should try and fit some sparring in at some point.” Rhea scarfed down some more egg, trying but failing to go slow and savour it. “If you want.”

“You too Dana.” Rhea’s fork rested against the edge of the plate. “Everyone looked like they were in great form, even Marcy.” A hint of surprise peppered Rhea’s voice, though it was mostly meant in jest.

“I’ve still got a lot to learn and this school isn’t teaching me shit – so thank the gods I’ve got you guys.”





Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II & Rhea Franky Psomas

Interactions: Venting to Jonas Highwind @HereComesTheSnow, elbowing Viv @Altered Tundra, and rescuing Dallas Relo @Plank Sinatra (Also mentioned: @Lionhearted, @Allycat, @Crimson Flame)




Marcella Bonaparte
Heyyyy, I just woke up and I’m honestly still a little dishevelled, but I should be good for some diner food if you’re still in?

Dallas Relo
apollo cafe
prettying up now
see who wears the sexier welcome mat


Oh that little.

"No," Marcy cautioned herself, "don't give him that power, he's one ego trip away from causing a singularity." Marcella rexamined her outfit before truly commiting to her approach towarsd the Apollo cafe. She'd make do with what she had at the moment, though her mind was already planning out future outfits. A Bonaparte didn't dress for anyone in particular. A Bonaparte dressed for everyone. For if a Bonaparte shouldn't attempt to give the proletariat something to look at, who would?

She smiled intimiately at all who passed her, a few run-of-the-mills who happened to be lucky enough to cross the Demigod's path on her morning commute to the cafe. As well as some of the school's staff. She smiled at them, fluttering her eyelashes just enough to direct an onlooker towards her sterling cerulean gaze. Children of Aphrodite had it easy, they'd turn on their magical pheromone and you'd swear they were pretty, no, for any other demigodess, one had to put in the effort.

Finally coming upon the cafe, Marcella looked on in abject horror as she saw him there, flanked by two men she didn't recognize. Viv was also in the cafe, Viv was speaking to Marcy's brother, Gus inside. Those two could be problematic.

But, the mission was clear. Extraction.

Marcella waited for a pair from the faculty to enter the cafe. She silently followed as if she was their third. Not saying anything, but just close enough to not garner attention.

She immediately broke off and elbowed Viv's side quietly whispering into her ear.

"Follow my lead and keep everyone else out of this. It’s for your brother."

Marcella approached the hostage with caution and knowing in her eyes as she locked on Dallas'.

"Oh zut alors! Pouvez vous m'aider, Ma voiture est tombée en panne. Je ne c'est pas quoi faire!" Marcella loaded her voice with a rich Parisian upper-crust accent that only came through when she cried normally. She gently grasped Dallas' bicep, pleading at him with every part of her face. She conjured images of rose clinging to Jack atop that frigid door. "Please monsieur, s'il vous plaît, come 'ere." Marcella's accent was as rick as dark chocolate, pulling Dallas towards him, attempting to free him from his new bonds. "Je suis tres desole." She muttered as she waited for Dal to seal the deal.






The smell of eggs further roused Rhea to achieve new tiers of consciousness. Her awareness of her surroundings started to come back, slowly but surely. Jonas' voice send her head spinning, back to last night, to getting reamed out by the higher-ups. Rhea had stayed the quietest of the present company. She certainly hadn't fought back against it, and when her and Marcy got back to their rooms Marcy had wanted to stay with Rhea for the night. So she hadn't had the chance to really process it, until now, anyway.

"...Helluva start to the year, huh?"

"Yeah," Rhea spat, awkwardly rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Some fuckin' thanks for saving their entire experimental alumni, huh?"

She sighed loudly enough that it almost evolved into a groan. "Eggs smell good, thanks for making breakfast." Rhea glanced over at the pot of water. She tried to feel a connection to it, just as an early stretch.

The sensation came in waves. It was difficult for her early on to try and discern information about water she couldn't see. But it's movement mirrored Jonas' stirring, and its heat rose with the stove top. Little by little she garnered everything about the water, and their contents. She felt one with it for a brief, fleeting second.

And then she was back.

"You guys pretty much said everything there was to say, I didn't want to add fuel to that fire I guess." Rhea still had the bad habit of explaining things when she wasn't asked to. "Here, let me help." Rhea pushed herself up from the chair she had sat in. "How many are we expecting? I'll set the table."





Marcella Aveline Bonaparte II & Rhea Franky Psomas

Interactions: Knocking on Jonas Highwind's @HereComesTheSnow door and blowing up Dallas Relo's @Plank Sinatra phone




Marcella Aveline Bonaparte the second stood in all her glory as naked as the day she swore to never bring up again in front of a dresser. After an hour in hair and makeup she was finally ready to pick her outfit. The dresser was so unceremoniously stuffed with clothes that the wood creaked with every touch and its doors that refused to close even halfway.

Her room was an absolute nightmare, the floors is clothes, the walls are clothes, the ceiling fan had a single bra hung from it. Morale was low, no one was certain when the war would end.

Marcy examined each blouse, jacket, crop top, and dress with the scrutiny of a federal judge, each one’s surreptitious flaws so plain to her that she was disgusted by the lot of them. She needed something provocative, but ultimately casual enough to go to a diner. Something that would cause Dal to take a third, fourth, fifth look at her, but nothing that Jonas would remark as out of the ordinary. Something flowy, but also tight to her body.

She settled for a burgundy cardigan, black crop top, white undershirt and a pair of airy frilly shorts that hugged her thighs. Selecting each piece with a sense of utilitarian pride. Now the outfit need only pass the most difficult test she could afford.

“Rhea!” She crowed, flying to the door to her better half’s room and assailing it with a series of knocks. She had slept in Rhea’s bed after last night. Before the last knock could connect a tired Canadian sea deity appeared before her, only allowing the smallest of openings in the door as her eye peered out of the crack at Marcy.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

“Don’t be like that.” Marcy quickly countered shoving as much of her body would fit through the crack as possible, causing the door to jut open and knocking Rhea back a foot or two. The daughter of Poseidon easily could’ve forced Marcy out, had she wanted to, but she was tired and possibly still at least partially asleep.

Rhea looked like she was wearing the discarded tee of a trucker and some underwear from a bargain bin back in Canada. Annoyingly, she pulled it off.

“You know I can get you nice clothes, your ass could be swathed in satin-"

“What do you want.” It wasn’t a question the way Rhea said it. She threw herself back onto her bed, her comforter the only shield she had against the cold reality setting in. She was going to have to help Marcy pick an outfit.

“Okay so, I think we should start from the top here.” Marcy cooed.

“How many tops are you wearing?” Rhea groaned from underneath her comforter.

“Counting the cardigan?”

“Yes.”

“Three.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“they work, shut up.”

Rhea pulled herself out from underneath her covers. Her expression softened when she looked at Marcy. She couldn’t help but smile at her. Marcella was a strange beast, and in the time, Rhea had gotten to know her she still hadn’t quite pinned down just what made Marcy, Marcy. She was charismatic to a point of intoxication. But there was more to it than that and it was hard to place.

“You doing okay?” Rhea asked, gently. Marcy had been somewhat off last night after the fight. “You were pretty shaken before.”

“Shaken? I wouldn’t say that.” Marcy countered. “Stirred.”

Rhea rolled her eyes. “I told you last night when you first made that joke, please don’t use that one on Dal.”

“You try coming up with only amazing jokes and showing everyone else’s outfit’s up. It’s hard.”

“Friendly warning, that’s all.”p Rhea raised her hands. “You look good.” She said, after a quiet moment of fake contemplation.

“Told you!” With that, Marcy was out the door.

Just down the hall, lay her quarry.

Bzzt.

Her phone went off.

Bzzt. Bzzt.
Short form rapid fire texts? That sounds like a certain muscle-bound intellect she remembered.

“Making food? Making food?”

No. That just would not do. A diner date was the way Dallas and Marcy always started the year off and it would not be thwarted this year by a child of Ares.

Marcella marched down the hall, making her own text.

To: The Sun
“Heyyyy, I just woke up and I’m honestly still a little dishevelled, but I should be good for some diner food if you’re still in?”

Rhea, meanwhile found a rather large hoodie that looked… Alright. It was a Calgary Stampeders sweater that belonged to one of her older brothers. She nestled into a pair of jeans and found her phone in the chaos that Marcy had left behind. She thought back to the last night, something that Marcy seemingly had no time for.

She had performed adequately, and had been assigned a lynchpin role in protecting those who could not fight. However, she lacked the glory the others were given. She was the defense for a team with the best offense in the league. It felt, underwhelming. She had been training with Jonas for a while now, and she had grown massively in that short period of time. But still, something felt like it was missing.

A chance to prove herself gone, and already forgotten by Marcy, at least. She shook her head, and worked up to leaving her room. She let a hand rest on a trident she had sitting up by the door. Along with it were some generic posters, and a small fish tank that currently lay empty until she could find some fish to put in it. Her room was neat, comparatively to Marcy’s. Though most warzones paled in the face of that monster’s room.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Rhea’s eyes scanned the phone quickly.

“Jonas you’re a fucking life saver." Rhea exited her and Marcy’s apartment, quickly finding 2A and knocking on the door. “Yo coach, you in there?” She called out.



Location: Right in the fucking thick of it (lol this was prophetic)

Marcy Interactions:
Jonas @HereComesTheSnow,
Beks @Krayzikk

Marcella Aveline Bonaparte20, Fifth Year



A shadowed hound snapped at Marcella, but before it could reach her two of Creboros’ jaws sunk into different parts of the dark beast’s flank and tore it asunder. His owner placed a steady palm on his back, waiting to find a better target to send him towards. She surveyed the battlefield, staring down Lovecraft’s newest boytoy. Ten minutes of pure grindhouse and that’s what they throw at us?

Its appendages bent in ways that appeared vaguely human, with knees and elbows. But its tail and the protruding, sharp bones made it seem as though it was something corrupted. She didn’t recognize it from her time in Hades.

No, it wasn’t a monster of the underworld. Her glare returned with a smile confirmed that. No monster of her father’s domain would dare cross her, let alone begin open combat through such cowardly means as to ambush her. A proper villain would have challenged her, they would’ve wanted the name of the beast that felled Hades’ daughter. They were predictably driven by a singular ambition of creating an easy life for themselves.

No beast of hell was this cocky around a team of demigods, let alone the princess of hell.

Even if they were, they definitely weren’t this vocal about it.

Marcy opened her mouth to tell ‘Shadow’ exactly how weird his flex was, but Jonas single-handedly took the vanguard. The daughter of death knew it was to be expected of her hulking friend. He had most likely discerned a weakness in the creature’s stance or was biding time for Bekah’s. Marcy’s head snapped back to the Athenian just in time to intercept the magazine.

She watched Bekah mix in the road flare to the shotgun cartridges.

“You’re a crazy bitch Beks.” The secondary magazine and absolute indefatigable purpose landed with her. “Understood.”

When the daughter of Athena asks for flames, it was your job to deliver. And gauging by the rate of fire of the weapon, she didn’t have time to be delicate.

As Jonas’ assault of yew and Bekhah’s of flame began Marcella got to work. Give the rate of fire of the weapon at play, she’d have no more than fifteen seconds to replace her friend’s magazine.

15 seconds, she thought.

Marcy wrenched a shell free from the magazine, popping it into her mouth and uncorking it in order to get a better look at its contents. She made the calculation in a matter of two seconds before thrusting her hand into the Earth. She scanned the frontlines as Jonas and Bekah continued their assault on Shadow. A hound flanked around Creboros.

It’d make a fine target.

13 seconds.

“Devour the foolish sacrifices that grovel on thy land.” Marcy's voice was met with nothing but alacrity from the Earth. She felt pieces of minerals separate, elements channel and change into the earth until finally an ashen icicle jutted through the shadow’s sternum, impaling it with a glacier nearly eight feet tall of pure magnesium. She heard some cheering from the lake but she stowed the jubilation, the bulk of the task still remained.

11 seconds.

The thunderclap of Bekah’s weapon punctuated Marcella’s steady heartbeat.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Her hand grasping hold of the raw magnesium, molding it in her palm until it formed a fine powder. She commanded the brass caps of each shell to separate as she filled each of them with a mix of gunpowder and magnesium, that took six seconds. She clenched her fist and the shells each sealed themselves shut as if they’d never been opened.

Save for a small engraving of a winking face and her signature.

5 seconds.

Marcy’s fingers delicately, quickly moved. Each shell flew through the air, the magnesium and brass was enough for her to manipulate each cartridge back into the magazine. Bekah fired her last shot at the smoky creature, “Bekah, Incendiary rounds coming in hot!” Marcy’s voice came loud and fast as her arm whipped the magaze like a baseball directly towards the Athenian.

Time!

Marcella had given Bekah the tool she needed to bring the flames of the underworld to this small little lake party. Who said the girl didn't know how to party?
I miss the activity of the last mission cycle. But I think I'm just nostalgic there were some issues there too. Anyway, I know I'm still around and waiting.



Location: Right in the fucking thick of it (lol this was prophetic)
Rhea Interactions:
Jonas @HereComesTheSnow,
Those who cannot fight


Marcy Interactions:
Jonas @HereComesTheSnow,
Beks @Krayzikk
Dana @Plank Sinatra

Marcella Aveline Bonaparte20, Fifth Year
Ψ Rhea Franky Psomas Ψ 19, Fourth Year



Marcella's beer bottle stopped, gentle grazing her lower lip in dull fascination as she peered out towards Viv and the creatures that pursued her. "Well aren't you all just adorable." Her first thought, as she froze the bottle against her lip, cocked her head and palmed the ruby away from Dal's pretty face, was to illusions. Perhaps a prank on the newest class of 'special select students.' But, as the others began to react to the situation, specifically Bekah, it became clear that the threat would be taken seriously. Marcella gave Dal a quick peck on the cheek before hopping down from the truck, the soil beneath her churning ever so slightly.

As they surrounded the group, a silence hung in the air as the demigods waited for some kind of instruction. Marcy expected to hear Bekah's voice or Dana's war cry. But rather it was Jonas' tactical mind that sprung the fastest, eliciting a small grin from Marcella.

Here we go.

"Marcy, scare these things if you can! Fear of God on deck now!"

"Ohh, coming right up Jo." Marcy's voice shifted from her typical bougie gently French accented party girl persona to one much more reserved. More of her French accent coming through in her words. She glanced over at Rhea, who'd also recieved some direction. The Rhea that Marcy had first met was not particularly good with the idea of combat. Or at least, she didn't have the demeanor for it.

Glancing out towards the Ares kids, they had the energy for it.

Marcy glanced back at Rhea, their eyes meeting briefly. It was a damned good thing Rhea was not the same girl
she had first met.

Marcy walked out towards the wolf-like fiends, Jonas providing some cover fire as his bow shot off, the arrow rupturing the relative silence of the forest with a crack that
rippled into the air. Marcy felt her focus grow, her hand on the ruby squeezing it. She felt the gem begin to splinter as her divine abilities flowed through it, grasping each shard like a tiny dagger.

"Si vous voulez une chose bien faite, faites-la vous-même." Marcy's whispered words took root in her body, as her divine energy began to slide off of her form. Her hair
and dress seemingly affected by a second more ominous wind. The grass beneath her feet withered and the dirt dried up. She glanced out towards the beasts, her form radiated an energy many knew but did not face. The long night, a final rest.

Glaring at the beasts she knew she was effectively defenseless. Luckily, she had whom she did behind her. She felt another arrow whiz by
her form. The force of the arrow's impact and trajectory past her form launched her hair up but she kept her focus. She had the gem if the beasts approached her, and until then she assumed they'd avoid her and split their group for the 'easier' prey. Surely, that was Jonas' quickly drafted battle plan.

"Come on then you little bitches. Let me to guide you to eternity." Marcy spat, as Creboros returned to her side, all three heads snarling at their newest meal. The princess of the underworld and her loyal hound faced the beasts, as they began to spread around her instead of charging.

It was working.





"Rhea! Gather up everyone who can't fight and hit the water! You can keep them safe there!"

Immediately Rhea leapt into action upon hearing Jonas' words. "Everybody who isn't going to get into a fist fight with a demon tonight hop in the fucking lake!" She shouted out with a tinge of almost anger in her voice. In truth, she wasn't angry at all - however she needed to rush those who would prove to be liabilities. She watched as Jonas divided the rest of his chess pieces as evenly as he could afford to. With Marcella's role becoming apparent through a more careful consideration of her abilities. One might assume that through her unique form of ferrokinesis, she'd be apt to handle the back line. However regarding Jonas' weapon choice and Dana's probable firearms given Bekah's cry for a shotgun, the backline was covered.

To protect the backline Jonas could have attempted to assemble a vanguard, but there wasn't enough pieces. The backline would get chewed up if there was an en masse attack, but as Marcella and Rhea locked eyes and Jonas cried out for the
fear of god it was clear that there wouldn't be a charge en masse. Marcy would serve as a glorified obstruction. The demon-like dogs would have to split their attention moving around her and the backline would be able to fire at will as they split up.

Rhea's role, of course, was to protect the useless.
In combat, one of her many lessons was to simplify what she could. Did she feel all of these people were useless? In combat, yes. That was all that mattered at the moment.

As Rhea backed up, with a group gathering behind her, she was presented with an option from Jonas. A weapon.

Her weapons were rustier
than her hand to hand experience in combat, and she had the lake here. It wasn't a wise option and would likely slow down her muscle memory or reflexes, if her coat got torn up that was fine.

Her foot stopped just short of the lake. The lapping waves just barely missing her.

The first lesson she
had ever been taught was to avoid training within water. She was heightened in water, it was a crutch. If she could become good outside of water, she'd be great within.

She let her foot slide back in the sand as the water began to lap up her pant leg. Continuing backwards into the lake her mind
felt as if unlocked itself and her blood began to boil in her veins. She felt as if she could access any part of her knowledge in a fraction of the time she had been previously capable of it.

One of the hounds slipped past Marcy, Jonas and the bevy of backline babes that had been assembled.
Rhea continued to back into the water. The monster advanced on her and the others, slowly. Rhea's finger tips gingerly made contact with the water as the beast's tendrils lashed out. It slowly advanced towards her, its maw snapping at the air between them. Its hunger, evident.

But Rhea was too fast, she saw the tension build
in its back legs, the eyes focus narrow in on her jugular. Her hand rose up, calmly, casually and a stream of pressurized water shot out towards the beast. The hound could almost finish a whimper before both halves dropped into the watter, sullying it. The stream of water shot out towards a tree noticebly slashing into the trunk.

"Stay behind me." Rhea's voice was steady, with a tinge of excitement that only the most perceptive could detect. She was ready to go all out.




Location: Right in the fucking thick of it
Rhea Interactions:
JoJo @HereComesTheSnow,
Dana @Plank Sinatra,
Ari @Dirty Pretty Lies


Marcy Interactions:
Dal @Plank Sinatra,
Kels @NeoAC
Viv @Altered Tundra,
Dusty @MissCapnCrunch

Marcella Aveline Bonaparte20, Fifth Year
Ψ Rhea Franky Psomas Ψ 19, Fourth Year



Rhea was leaned down, keeping a fairly casual eye on the lake watching for any ripples, though there was Ian he wasn’t in any danger of drowning as he stood by the lake. She didn’t necessarily need to, she had a good sense of the occupants of nearby bodies of water, but she liked to be careful. For the most part she was very impressed with the crowd they had selected to partake in this special experiment. She liked most of them if not loved a great deal.

It hadn’t been long into the party where Rhea had noticed that Marcy was no longer paying attention to her and she snuck off in order to change into something more comfortable for her. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Marcy’s efforts. But god damn how does she walk in those fucking things? She was now wearing a camo sweater, a white tank top underneath and a pair of leggings along with some cargo boots for good measure. It did a lot to make her more comfortable and she had already caught Jonas' reaction to her initial outfit. Glancing over at Marcy though, it seemed as though the older girl had expected it, holding her bottle up in a sort of 'cheers' motion. Rhea just nodded at her with a bit of a laugh.

In her leaned down position one of the mini-cerberus’ heads were rubbing up against her cheek while she pet the other two. She hadn’t seen the beast in quite some time.

The last time was a rather tragic drunken attempt to pet all three heads at once and crying because it just couldn’t be accomplished. But her focus on the dog was lost as Ariana approached, fashionably late as always. She thought back to first year for a moment, her first year and her first time attending one of Dal’s parties. Their status on campus was legendary and she was, not. She was some terribly dressed girl from Alberta. But she managed to attend, and she met quite a few people for the first time.

“Hey, JoJo,”

Her voice was like a current of electricity that shot up Rhea’s spine and almost made her hair stand on end. She used it as a weapon, often, and this was no exception. Her eyes scanned up Ariana quickly, dressed as one would expect from the daughter of Aphrodite, her midriff lay bare and her eyes were illuminated by the far end of the joint balanced precariously on her lips.

Oh shit.

Jonas himself glanced towards her without any sense of surprise. He must’ve heard her coming, Rhea hadn’t whatsoever. She considered this probably painted the still cavernous gap between their skill levels at this point. She was progressing, but so was he. He rose up to his full height to greet her, standing well overtop of both of the girls.

She blew the smoke towards his face and Rhea nearly shot up, shocked.

But she restrained herself.

"Ahem."

It seems Jonas would too.

"Better watch where you point that thing. I can't summon my own, but that might count as a weapon."

In the immortal words of Danaye Harade. ‘Nani the fuck.’

Was Jonas trying to... Fuck? Rhea clearly had much to learn still from a man much more enigmatic than he lead on. He waved the smoke from his face and for one instant Rhea believed that she saw a crack in his calm and casual demeanor. But it was tough to tell for sure.

Rhea had sparred with Jonas and spent quite a bit of time with him as well. If there was a single defining trait about his demeanor it was his fucking perfect poker face. It most likely came with his level of control over his mind, but you could not read him whatsoever. She was sure she was projecting due to her sheer surprise.

She glanced over at Dana, who was already moving to respond. "Ari-chan is good girl," Dana postured politely towards her friend. “But if you want to hang out with your friends tonight, I can hang out with mine. We can both keep eye on things together." Rhea couldn’t help but wonder where Dana got the strength to be so kind and measured.




As soon as Dal sat down between Kelsey and Marcy the daughter of Hades wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek. He was whispering to the two of them about Jonas and Ari. She glanced over in their direction and watched as Rhea floundered about having been caught in the immediate proximity of that fuck-bomb.

As soon as Dal had finished with his apt comparison of Jonas to the leader of the X-Men Marcy watched Jonas stand up to his full height in order to greet the daughter of Aphrodite. Marcy side-eyed Kelsey and Dal and whispered back.

“We’re all looking at the same thing, right?” Jonas was, very evidently, a big fucking guy. He was around six feet and two or three inches, packed muscle on just enough that it didn’t slow him down but he could probably flip a car if he needed to. The man must’ve had a foot and at least 100 pounds on the smaller girl. And she was trying to land that fucker like she was a fishing competition. The biggest stronger sunova bitch the school had to offer. The more Marcy considered it, however the more it made sense.“Honestly, good for her.”

But as Rhea made her presence known and Dana also began to intervene it seemed more like a rescue attempt. But Dal, Dal had already hit a boiling point. His blood was pumping and he was excited. If Ari was as persistent as her reputation preceded than Marcella may yet get to see Dal become a beer pong table.

She glanced over at Dustyn who had handed an absolutely horrified Viv her tooth. What a fucking legend. This is why everyone invited Dusty everywhere. You couldn't slow a bitch down. She couldn't even slow herself down.

Marcy knew Ari like people knew celebrities. Her exploits were talked of and her conquests probably had a group chat or some shit. But she knew that at one-point Rhea had nearly fallen victim to the walking embodiment of charisma. Marcy looked at Dal for one more moment, his arm around both her and Kelsey and in that moment, she realized something beautiful.

Dal is having a great time.

I bet he’ll let me pierce him again.

“Hey kids,” Marcy said turning towards Dal and Kels with a devilish grin. “I just got a fun idea, how do you both feel about getting a piercing? I’ll do anywhere and you get your choice of gem, I think sapphires would look beautiful on you Kels,” Marcy’s charm was being cranked up, her eyelashes fluttering as she spoke. While she did speak to Kelsey her eyes shot from the girl’s gaze straight to meet Dal’s. He knew the look on her face well by now. Her grin was less kittenish like Ari’s and more apropos to the devil himself. Still tempting, but for all the wrong reasons.

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