Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐞 "𝐌𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐞" 𝐁𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩
[✦] | Mars | 29 | Female | ➡ Hampton Inn, Van | Tags: Questers bc lazy
❝ ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒❞

No. The answer was, in fact, no. No one could see her. "Ugh, this must be what hell is like." Trapped in a van with a bunch of teenagers who couldn't see or hear her, much less do anything to help her situation. A gun in the mouth wouldn't get her out of this one. "Well, I still got a job to do. Keep 'em entertained, Clive." She got the feeling he would, even if she hadn't said anything. When more children broke away from the crowd of sleepy guests fleeing out the doors, Moxie perched herself halfway in the seat behind the driver's, awaiting their arrival. The first was a doe-eyed adolescent with purple hair, who went out of his way around to the passenger's seat, much to the ghost's distaste. "Dude, seriously?" She reached around and waved her hand through his head. "Three." There was a moment of pause before the headcount resumed. "Four, five, six, seven, eight..." a healthy variety of demigods piled through the doors, and Moxie would have stopped at ten like she planned... if there weren't more than ten. "damn, Teilo you were right about these kids. They've gotta be replicating somewhere along the line, because there's either twelve or thirteen in here. You kids got any plans for a bigger van?"

──────── 𝐀𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫
[✦] | Athena Head Counselor | 15 | Male | ➡ Hampton Inn, Van | also Questers bc lazy
❝ 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑠❞

Teilo brought up a fair point - if you're dead, you don't really have anything to gain from lying about something. Despite the remedies provided by the son of Thanatos, Aiden was no longer smitten with keeping the worn pair of socks. They'd pulled their weight for long enough, and he had some other pairs with him. Other, thicker pairs, better suited for the weather they found themselves trapped in. Besides the driver and two invisible hitchhikers, Aiden seemed to be the first of the crew to make it to the van. I get first dibs on seats, then. Besides Mira, of course. With his injury now managed, the boy hobbled his way into the back of the van, taking a small corner in the final row before the trunk. One by one, the rest of the group made it out of the harpies' clutches, and he resisted the urge to plug his ears as the screeching only grew more intense. When Aggy, Isabelle, Ash, Mirabelle, and all the others piled in - nearly on top of him - Aiden repressed a deep sigh. It was going to be a tight squeeze, by the looks of it.

──────── 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐳
[✦] | Oracle of Delphi | 23 | Male | ➡ Dining Pavilion | Tags: Leo, Vittorio
❝ 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠❞

For the most part, Cain was unbothered by the injury on his forearm - save for the incessant itch it brought on, and the fact that he had to avoid scratching it. The youngest of the group sounded shocked by it regardless. "Maybe?" Cain admitted, unsure of the specifics of the interaction. He'd been too busy running to pay attention to how he was attacked. "It could be more like a bee sting, or a rash. I don't know if there are any animals that cause rashes." a moment of thought. "I could be allergic to storm spirits. Sometimes I get stuffy when it rains." It made sense to Cain, at the very least. He jumped when Leo broke into a coughing fit, but his anxious nerves settled when the son of Athena dismissed it as a wrong breath. Cain shrugged (the action was slightly delayed) in response to Leo's next question, finishing the bite of sausage he was chewing on. "Yeah, they let me stay in the Big House during the winter when it's too cold outside, but I've been in the Dionysus cabin since..." The Oracle started scratching again as his statement faded out, but he was quick to stop the bad habit once the pain returned. "The Hephaestus cabin made me one after the head counselors had their meeting. It isn't bad when the curtains are up." He hadn't quite registered Vittorio's exclamation regarding the cave, still seeming trapped in his perpetual aloofness.

──────── 𝐊𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐱
[✦] | Mortal | 19 | Female | ➡ i'm not updating this tag anymore | Tags: Vivienne
❝ 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒❞

In and out, without a hitch. Biscuit was always happy to go on car rides, but this would be his first time riding with Xaliphax. To say he wasn't thrilled would be an understatement - in fact, he was terrified, but it was an effect Kayle had long since come to terms with. With a little bit of coaxing and a few dog treats, Biscuit settled into her lap alongside Snowdrop. With all passengers in tow, the pale horse shifted into reverse and headed back down the main road. The drive ahead was long enough, and Kayle took the time to consider their next course of action. Her fingers rolled over Nicholas' debit card as she pondered the events of the morning. He'd told her to get Vivienne out, get some breakfast and stuff, and they'd essentially come to the conclusion that she was in dreadful need of a new wardrobe. Vivienne didn't even have a clue what her sense of style might be, and Kayle wasn't so cheap as to take her to Walmart or, god forbid, Goodwill, to start looking. No no, if they were going to go shopping, they were going to do it right.

"Ross seems like a good place to start." Kayle chirped as Xaliphax rolled to a halt, letting both women out at the door. Normally, she would have asked him to park like before, but now that Biscuit had been added to the roster, she didn't want him getting anxious in the car alone. Somewhere down the line, she and Xali had come to an agreement that he'd keep an eye on the timber rattlesnake off the beaten path until they were finished. How Xaliphax would know when that was didn't make sense to Kayle, but for a divine horse car, he was the reliable sort (then again, Kayle didn't know of any other horse cars to compare him to). "You've got the eyes out of the two of us, so I'll let you do the looking," Kayle said, clicking her tongue for Snow to hop out of the car, allowing Xaliphax to drive off. "But I'm here if you have questions about brands, materials, or any terms that don't make sense. There's a couple of other department stores around here if you don't find what you're looking for."

──────── 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦
[✦] | Horseman of the Apocalypse | 56 | Male | ➡ Morgantown, PA | Tags: n/a
❝ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ❞

"Te Lyuthtya, su nala ri."

The beginnings of a prayer, and for a moment, Nicholas felt as if he were foolishly in a confessional. He needed help, and for the longest time, he feared there was no one to help him. Thoughts and pleas for answers were always directed to a figure he never believed in, and in his mind, the one he did believe in had no answers. Maybe he didn't give her enough credit. Nicholas did fear for her safety at first, but when the collection of bones shuddered to life in the center of the room, his concerns dissipated. The skeletal avian did not speak, not that she ever did, but the two had the beginnings of a conversation nonetheless. "I... I'm sorry," he confessed in his mother tongue. "It's been too long since... well, I'm sure you're aware of everything that's happened." He'd turned her into a rancid abomination, one that drove them both from the place he once called home. Nicholas never knew for sure if Te Lyuthtya forgave him for it. He had doubts if it was even still the goddess in there, but something in his gut told him he got that part right.

There was silence - his own aura was suffocating, and his being filled every space in the house in the same way water fills a container. The horseman made space for the bird regardless, one safe haven in the heart of destruction. "I have no right to ask for anything, after what I did and what I am," he prepared himself for a but. "- but I still have care in this heart. For you, and for the people I left behind. All of you deserve a place of safety, and... I don't know how far this will reach, but I do know I can provide that. If... If..." If she were to accept, and Nicholas doubted she would. His form slumped, growing more and more docile with each minute. Te Lyuthtya hummed a soft, mournful tune, but Nicholas was no priest. The songs and stories of the mother were lost on him, a truth that pained him greatly. There was little else he could do in this state, so he set his heart on interpretation, returning to a meditative state the was only becoming more and more familiar.

[demolition lovers]

Beck Light
◢ ◣ ◥ ◤◢ ◣ ◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤
♡21|he/him| Aphrodite|archery targets|caleb

Beck wasn't really sure what else he could do to help the camp. Hephaestus kids were working hard, Ares kids were training, Athena's were already planning strategies, and he kinda felt like an idiot pretty boy. He'd spent a lot more time on his archery, which was fun. Fun wouldn't be the term when he was actively trying to keep himself and others alive, but for now it was a good distraction. The targets were quiet at this time, and the forest was calm and embracing. Plus he really liked flirting with the Dryads. Maggie liked the attention she got from the Satyrs, and lounging on the ground, occasionally expressing her displeasure at being "neglected." His dad had done some research and found a couple books by demigods on tactics and what worked best for protection, he'd sent those and would hopefully arrive soon. In some ways, he was just angry. Angry at waiting around for an attack, for more kids to die, for whatever the hell was coming next. He let the nextarrow fly, hitting the target dead center.

Winona
✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖
☾18|she/her| Hecate|Dining Pavilion|open

Winona had finally stopped brooding and started researching. Camp needed protection, and she could do that, whether through brewing potions, or casting spells. Shed been praying a lot to the gods and goddesses, not just her mother. Too much blood and life had been spilled already. She'd headed down to the border of camp after eating, Jareth wrapped around her shoulders, snoozing as usual. She had studied some new protection wards, and was hoping to add a couple of them to the boundaries. She closed her eyes, outstretching her palm, letting the magic crackle like electricity through her body. Her fingertips tingled, and she let the warmth gather, then flow out, feeling the spell discharge around her. Winona opened her eyes, grinning. Cool. Different spells made her feel differently, but she loved the lightening feeling ones. Her wards were becoming stronger, and she was actually really regretting not putting more effort into defensive magic sooner. If wards worked over boundaries, maybe she could figure out a way to add protective charms to trinkets. She pushed her hair behind her ears, hands on her hips. "Not bad, huh buddy?" she smiled, scratching the possum's chin.

[WitchHazel]

Mirabelle Everhart
|♡|17|She/Her|Aphrodite|Head Counselor|Location: The Van|Tags: Quest Group|

With everyone accounted for as far as Mirabelle knew, the van departed for Mount Marcy. Between Teilo's welsh road rage and her feeble attempts at navigation while in the back seat, her stomach was an absolute mess. She managed to keep it together, for the most part, discounting the fact that she looked as if she might lose her breakfast at any moment. I should have popped a Dramamine when I had the chance. The map was eventually handed off to Ash, their route outlined in bright pink highlighter. The persistent headache that worsened with carsickness caused her to snap at her fellow demigods a few times, always followed by a weak yet heartfelt apology as she tried desperately to keep the fragments of her composure intact.

Whether Ash had sneakily dusted her with sleep sand or whether her body had given out under the strain of a three hour night's rest, Mirabelle had succumbed to slumber at some point along the drive. Which should have been a shock to anyone, given how vigilant she usually was. Yet there she sat, head propped against someone else's shoulder, breathing punctuated by a few soft snores. Her dreams were convoluted and fractured - a girl with dark braided hair freezing solid atop a blustering mountaintop. A smiling shadow, the sound of breaking glass. A glimmer of obsidian. A flash of purple light. A humongous pair of black and silver doors. An icy cold mist that invaded her lungs and sent her scrambling for breath. Her own face staring back at her with a crimson gaze filled with loathing. The cloying scent of iron and roses.

When she opened her eyes again, the van was pulling into a rest station. It had been about two hours since she'd last checked the clock, which meant they were making good time. We must be halfway there by now. She blearily wondered if they'd had any navigation snafus or toll stop issues while she'd been out, but... everyone seemed okay. She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly pulled her scarf up over her face as a coughing spell wracked her willowy frame, leaving her wheezing and teary-eyed. "How long was I out?" she mumbled when it had ebbed. Goodness, I sound awful. Her voice was a wreck; all hoarse and scratchy and full of congestion. Talking felt like swallowing shards of glass. A less-than-subtle clearing of her throat made her wince, but at least she wouldn't sound as much like a garbage disposal anymore. "Did we bypass Manhattan already?"

From where they had stopped, she surmised it was time for bathroom breaks and restocking of provisions - namely snack foods. She could do with some supplies herself, she realised. And maybe I should consider taking some ambrosia. The harpy scratch on her arm stung, but that wasn't the crux of her worries. She needed to be in fighting shape for the challenges to come - to which anyone with eyes could see, she was not. I'm the weakest link right now. How am I supposed to take care of everyone else when I can't even take care of myself?


Vivienne Isole
|❄|18|She/Her|Khione|Location: Ross|Tags: Kayle|

Soon enough, they were back on the road. The gentle purr of Xaliphax's engine was oddly reassuring. As her gaze drifted out the window, Vivienne found herself getting lost in thought. This is pleasant, she realised. For the first time in a long time, she couldn't feel Khione's icy breath down her back. Is this what freedom feels like? She had never truly thought herself contained, not before now. But the kindness that Nicholas and Kayle had treated her with was nothing like the iron grip of Khione's fingers on her shoulders. Is this how family is supposed to act?

She knew she had to go back to Khione eventually, despite the harsh welcome she would undoubtedly receive. This time, however, she had a goal. There was more at play than she had known before. Her eyes had been opened to the larger scheme of things. She was beginning to suspect that Khione was simply using her as cover for her master plan, to keep Camp Half-Blood distracted while whatever it was going on in the background unfolded. It was a sickening thought to stomach, so she pushed it out of her mind and tried to focus on a plan. When she returned to the mountain, she would make it her mission to find out what was behind the curtain. And eventually, once she compiled both the evidence and the bravery... confront the goddess once and for all.

The remainder of the ride was spent in a similar state of thought, and it wasn't entirely unpleasant when Kayle's voice jolted Vivienne from the machinations of her mind. "Ross seems like a good place to start."
"I am unfamiliar with this 'Ross', so I shall have to simply take your word for it." It wasn't long before Xaliphax pulled up in front of what looked to be a clothing store of some sort - that was Vivienne's best guess, anyway; she hadn't been to one in a great deal of time. "If I am honest, I do not have a wealth of knowledge on... fashion. Brands and materials hold no meaning to one who is unfamiliar." She followed the muscular young woman into the store, wholly unprepared for the overwhelming array of options that greeted her.

Racks of clothing in almost every style swam into view. It was a chaotic cacophony of colour. Despite her generally callous attitude, she found herself drawing closer to Kayle in the overwhelming light of the store. "There are... so many choices. I do not even know where to begin."

[*Lovel*]

『 ☯』 Oliver Howe『 ☯』

Son of Phobos ✵ Cabin ? ✵ 17 ✵ Demisexual

==== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ======== ✵ ====

Tags: Ambrose
Location: Cabin 7

Oliver waved the sorry away like the events didn't matter. But they had, they had mattered so much that they haunted him every moment of every day. Tears threatened to spill but he turned to cough to cover up wiping away the evidence."She sounds like she wouldn't have made it a day in my time, knowing the reckless company you keep." the tease came out naturally but with no smile. Only Ambrose would know to take it as a grain of salt.

Oliver's attention became transfixed on Ambrose as his friend shot what looked like black smoke from his fingertips. Oliver grasped Ambrose's hand in amazement "Do it again." he whispered green eyes full of boyish wonder with a hint of perplexity. He hadn't seen anything like it, well that wasn't entirely true, once it was something that laid at his feet. Except that was white in color and Oliver had assumed it came from some sort of fire.

Ambrose returned to the subject of the past and Oliver's grip laxed almost to the point where he was letting go. His hold on Ambrose as light as the flutter of butterfly wings. "Madness indeed." he breathed as his eyes drifted to his notebook for a moment. Did he still have the men's fears drawn in his book? Did he scribble them out in a fit of rage or just tore them like the men made him torn with a fear he couldn't repay.

"Don't make me retract the sentiment." his steely demeanor melting away like it always would with Ambrose around. He tried to resist the smile but in the end it won the battle and he felt the tug at the corners of his mouth. Heat bloomed to his cheeks turning them a rosy shade. He released Ambrose's hand fully and became interested in tugging up the covers like he had been cold. "I wasn't in such poor condition until I came here and tried to help those girls." speaking of, he wondered what kind of injuries they sustained. They haven't made their way to where he was so he assumed they were in fair shape. "Last time I ever try to be chivalrous." he mumbled half serious half jokingly, he wished the statement could be true but he'd probably wind up in the same predicament somehow down the road. And now knowing Ambrose was here the instinct of keeping him safe would also mean keeping his friends safe.

[Takara]

☠ | Aggy Clemson
15 | She/her | Unknown (Ares) | The Van | Quest group, Mira

Aggy could feel her time running out. She only had so much time with this brass knuckle, and the weapon was soaked in secrets. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as forthcoming with sharing them as Flora was. Years spent getting mistreated by that witch ruined her, urghhhh! She debated stamping a foot, but settled for flashing the occasional glare at the mop of blonde hair next to her. The grating buzz of her mistreated weapons did not go away, but focusing on this one did help. She turned it over in her fingers, brushing a cursory hand over the jewels set into it and pulling back when her fingertips started to numb.

She tested the grip, finding it rather large for her fingers. And more importantly, too loose for the hands of the girl next to her… if her rough approximations were correct. Moreover, the opulent design was a stark contrast to the unkemptness of jerkface. I get the feeling it’s stolen, but that’s between her and the dead. She mused, tapping the weapon against the wall of the car and entertaining herself with just forming frost on it before pulling back.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mira coming awake in the row ahead of her, and raising a good question. “I don’t know, a while? It’s been foreverrr!” She groaned, not looking up from the brass knuckle in her hands. To punctuate her point, she yawned widely, wiggling around her seat. It was striking her that a bathroom break was sounding a bit too appealing, but leaving meant giving up the piece of celestial bronze in her hands, probably forever. It was a risk she didn’t feel like taking, and might wholly avoid but for the stretch in her gut.

♠ | Isabelle Yencha
16 | She/her | Poseidon | The Van | quest group, Rochelle, Aggy

Isabelle was jostled into wakefulness by the van abruptly halting. As she stumbled back into consciousness, she became uncomfortably aware of the drool spot on her shoulder and the dull ache in her skull. Her dreams had been spiked with the sharpness of pines and the blistering feel of her nose going numb. But that wasn’t the important part- no -what was important was the figures, five? no, surely it was only the two… They’d been colder than ice, so cold that even the blood in her veins wanted to freeze. Now that she was thinking of it, she felt rather dry already. Water, She shifted, starting to carefully disentangle herself from Rochelle. They appeared to have stopped at some sort of rest area… at least, that’s what she could assume with the snowy parking lot crowded with cars, some sporting plates from as far south as Georgia.

In front of her, Mirabelle asked a barrage of questions that sounded practical, or would’ve sounded practical if wasn’t still refocusing after her nap. Really, that girl does too much. Like, take a pixie stick and chill out. She squinted at the other girl, feebly grasping at the last threads of her dream before it unraveled entirely. “Do they sell coats here? We’re gonna need more layers.” She asked no one in particular, standing up and holding a hand out for the redhead to return her weaponry. When she didn’t hand it back immediately, Isabelle poked her. “Knuckles for knuckles, remember?” She said, enjoying the way the smaller girl seemed to jolt out of her trance before reluctantly handing it over. Isabelle grinned wolfishly, returning Snow Queen to earring form and pinning it to her shirt.

She wheeled back on Rochelle, giving her shoulder a shove. “Let’s go Sleeping Beauty- princes to kill, dragons to save!”

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐀𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫
[✦] | Athena Head Counselor | 15 | Male | ➡ Van | also Questers bc lazy
❝ 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑠❞

As he'd initially suspected, the drive was a very cramped one. Aiden thankfully wasn't claustrophobic, but after being buried under his fellow campers for two and a half hours (or however long it had been), he might just pick that fear up. The son of Athena had been the first to pipe up when the suggestion of bathroom breaks came to pass, exhaling an aggravated "Thank the gods someone said it," before shoving his neighbor off him. The cut on his leg stopped bleeding a while ago, but it was still swollen and painful. If they were taking a break at a gas station somewhere, he planned to snag himself as many bandaids and other first aid stuffs as he could get his grimy little hands on. Snacks were a lesser priority, but man, he could really go for a hot dog.

When the rumbling, overpack van finally came to a rolling stop, Aiden was one of the first in line to start the pushing, inhaling a deep (and exaggerated) breath of fresh air. "Freedom!" he cried, tumbling out the door into a puddle of slush. It was cold and wet, and honestly a refreshing change from the inside of the van. He stuck a thumbs up into the air. "I'm good guys, just... soaking it all in." A terrible pun. Aiden loved terrible puns.

──────── 𝐊𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐱
[✦] | Mortal | 19 | Female | ➡ i'm not updating this tag anymore | Tags: Vivienne
❝ 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒❞

Bless her heart, she's been so sheltered. Kayle thought with a sigh as she ushered Vivienne through the sliding doors. She could only guess what looks they might be receiving from other customers lurking between the aisles, but that was only if they were, in fact, looking. She knew people to be judgmental on things none of their business, but not everyone was that way. "If brand doesn't matter, then we'll focus more on material and clothing style. Go for what feels right. Use your hands and use your gut," Kayle poked Vivienne in the stomach for added emphasis. "You don't want to try wearing something that's too tight, or itchy, or something that feels too... unlike yourself. Just follow your heart." It was dumb advice. Kayle was fully aware of that, but advice like "find what looks good" was completely alien to her, and something told her that Vivienne wouldn't know a nice outfit if it dragged her into the street and beat her with a bat. So instead, she opted for the cliche "follow your heart" route as she followed Vivienne's lead into the depths of the department store.

[indigo']

━━━ [✿] 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 ━━━

16|he/him|Iris|the van|tags: van lads, Aiden

Despite his sleepless night and the exhaustion weighing him down after the battle, Jamie couldn’t rest while on the road. He envied the others who were passed out within minutes, heads leaning against windows and soft snores permeating the air around them, but with doomsday on the horizon and a horde of demigod-eating monsters on their trail, there would be no sleep for him. That, and the regular bumps and swerves of the van were jolting his nerves and keeping him on high alert. At least someone was keeping watch, though he wouldn’t be very useful beyond screaming an alarm if they were attacked. On top of that, the repetitive rush of snow against tires was clouding his thoughts, dulling his mind into a thoughtless trance that may as well have been sleep—without the added benefits of actually feeling calm, well-rested, or clocking out from the cramped space they were all suddenly trapped in. He didn’t know whose bright idea it had been to send more demigods. He always appreciated extra help and he never would have complained out loud—but as far as he knew, more demigods meant more monsters. That sort of defeated the purpose.

When the van finally stopped, he held back, waiting for the others to shove their way out before getting up from his seat. The idea of a bathroom break and a restock of snacks had never been more appealing, but he wasn’t going to get there any quicker if he got himself pushed in a pile of mud and slush—which is exactly what Aiden seemed to have done. “Holy frigging crap, dude.” He hopped out of the van, landing with a splash next to the son of Athena and holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?” The pun earned a small chuckle from Jamie, and was a good indicator that Aiden was in fact okay, if not a little damp. “You might wanna change your clothes. If you stay in that wet stuff you’re gonna turn into a demigodsicle.”

━━━ [♠]𝐕𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨-𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳 ━━━

16|he/him|Ares|dining pavilion|tags: Cain, Leo

Vittorio was one anomaly away from standing up and walking back to the city on his own. He could take a cab to the airport and fly back to Italy, put this whole strange place and its even stranger residents behind him. He could convince himself it had all been an absurd dream; brought on by stress or watching too many movies or eating cheese before bed. His aunt had always claimed that cheese before bed caused peculiar dreams. But despite his horror at every fanciful tale being laid out to him, something kept him from running away. It was like a car crash. Or roadkill. He couldn’t look away. A morbid fascination was pulling his attention in, holding it like a vice. No film he’d ever seen or book he’d ever read could hold a candle to the things he was experiencing now. If he didn’t leave this place with head trauma—physical or mental—he’d have plenty of fresh ideas to share with his uncle. Maybe he could write a memoir. Or a piece of surrealist fiction (because no one in their right mind would believe any of it was true).

Cain seemed unbothered by his injury or its source, which concerned Tori even more. “Does it really count as an animal if it’s…you know…” He waved his hand back and forth, emulating a tree in a windstorm. “Made of air? Is this…” He glanced at Leo, then back to Cain. “This is normal for you people? Rashes from angry wind horses and freak snowstorms and zombies and men who live in caves? Sorry,” he added, shooting Cain an apologetic look, as though he felt guilty for grouping him in with the other freaks of nature but had no intention of taking it back. “That’s…how are you not all…?” He motioned one finger in a circle next to his head to illustrate a loss of sanity, looking shocked and baffled and a little impressed all at the same time.

━━━ [✵]𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐎’𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 ━━━

17|he/him|Zeus|Camp border|tags: Winona

Of all the reasons to return to camp, a summer snowstorm, repeated attacks, and a rising number of deaths was not ideal. It had been less than a day and Collin was already exhausted, but he hadn’t flown across the Atlantic to sit around and be useless. He finished his food and set off in search of something to do—anything that would make it feel like there was a point to his being there, that he hadn’t made a mistake in abandoning his grieving family for this. The people around him now were his family too, and he was going to do what he could to protect them.

Without thinking, he found himself walking towards the border, purpose in his step that directly contradicted the unsteady circumstance of his mind. Movement caught his attention and he turned towards it, waiting until the daughter of Hecate was done with her enchantment before approaching so as not to interrupt or startle her. “Winona,” he greeted with a short nod. “D’you need any help? Obviously I can’t cast spells or anything. I’m quite useless on that front actually, I’m not sure why I offered. Do you need anything?” He wasn’t entirely sure how the Hecate camper’s magic worked—whether it ever required objects or tools or just came from within them. It seemed worthwhile to ask. He didn’t mind running errands for people, collecting things or making sure they were warm and taken care of at the very least. It was a lot of the same that he’d been doing at home, only with a little more urgency under the dire circumstances.