by indigo' » Mon Jan 11, 2021 6:39 pm
Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|the woods|tags:Reese, npc dryad
Auggie eyed the boy suspiciously for a moment, still not quite buying his statement. Eventually, she decided there was no reason she shouldn’t accept the food, and the sudden pang of hunger in her stomach reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since much earlier the day before managed to convince her. Reluctantly, she sheathed her sword and stepped forward to take the wrapped bundle from his outstretched hands. “Thanks,” She muttered awkwardly, pulling out one of the biscuits and taking a bite.
She raised an eyebrow at Reese, a hint of amusement in her expression. “Why is everyone in this camp so afraid of me? I’m not gonna hurt you, dummy,” she said, letting out a huff that might’ve been a laugh. As much as she tried to be intimidating, and as satisfying as it was to see others quiver fearfully whenever she was around, it did hurt a little sometimes. Though she’d never admit that, she could barely admit it to herself. She wanted this, and she knew that, but part of her also knew the reason she tried so hard to make everyone fear her was because she knew they wouldn’t like or even respect her if she wasn’t this way. Being a monster in their eyes was better than being an object of ridicule, at least she was in control now.
She looked back at the tree and frowned, having not realized until then exactly what she’d done to it. She opened her mouth to respond when she was interrupted by a shrill scream nearby. She barely suppressed a jump, whirling around to face a girl with green tinged skin and a quivering lip. “What have you done to the tree?” The dryad practically screeched, her eyes boring into Auggie with an intensity she hadn’t known the nature spirits to be capable of.
Auggie’s eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and fear, then she raised a hand defensively, swallowing a mouthful of biscuit so quickly she nearly choked. “Dude, this wasn’t me. I was trying to defend the tree. There was this—this thing...came and just...started attacking it. I did my best to fight it off, but me and Leo here better go find it before it causes any more damage.” The story rolled off her tongue easily, as though it been rehearsed many times. In reality, she’d just had a lot of practice coming up with quick excuses. She hadn’t had to use it so much since leaving home, but it was nice to know she still had that gift. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this thing.” She said firmly to the distraught dryad without giving the creature a second to respond. Her words came so quickly and were so commanding that the dryad didn’t seem to know how to react, she looked at the slashed up tree with a pained expression, then her gaze drifted to the forest around them warily, as if expecting a great beast to jump out of the snow and eat her whole.
While the dryad was distracted, Auggie started walking, grabbing Reese’s arm roughly and pulling him along beside her. “Just walk, don’t say anything,” she hissed threateningly under her breath. Once they were near the edge of the woods, far enough away from the dryad and the damaged tree, she released her vice grip on his arm and resumed eating her biscuits casually as if nothing had happened. She avoided Reese’s gaze for a moment, focused on the biscuit in her hand, then she cleared her throat, looking almost sheepish about what she’d just done. “I’ll get someone to fix it later,” She muttered.
“And my arm is fine by the way, so stop looking like a concerned granny.” She snapped, her hardened glare returning almost instantaneously. “It’s just a little scratch.” She wiped the blood that had begun to drip down her hand again on her jeans and rolled her shoulder, as though that would alleviate any of the pain in her injured arm—it didn’t. Though her arms still felt a little shaky from the overexertion with her sword and everything that had happened yesterday, she felt at least a little better after having eaten something.
Caleb Thomas|19|he/him|Athena|Arena|Tags:Emmie
Caleb grinned at the comment about chivalry before following her into the arena. “Not at all,” He said in response to her question about powers. “As long as you don’t mess up this at all,” he added, gesturing to his face with one hand. “This is the moneymaker. All I have going for me...other than my incredible personality, magnificent sense of humour, riveting stories, general charm...and great hair of course.” He said with a grin, running his free hand through his hair.
“And as long as you don’t mind me using mine,” he said, pressing down on the signet ring he had gone to his cabin to get, watching with fascination as it spiralled out into a shield bearing the same symbol of Athena as the ring. He may not have powers in the same way the daughter of Zeus did, but he definitely didn’t get his ability to make weapons from the non-godly side of the family. “This is new, so try not to dent it please?” He pointed a finger at Emmie, raising his eyebrows accusingly, though his playful tone clearly conveyed that he was only joking.
Jamie Wallace|16|he/him|Iris|dining pavilion|tags:Aiden, Wilhelm
Jamie shook Will’s outstretched hand, offering his usual bright smile that didn’t seem at all dampened by his nervous energy and the gloom of everything currently going on. “Nice to meet you, Will.” He reached out to take the paintbrush, before Aiden seemed to draw back at his question, eyes alight with fierce excitement. Jamie raised his eyebrows in surprise, he’d expected the other boy to tell him how useless it had been, that he hoped he never got stuck in a fight with the pathetic son of Iris again, but that didn’t seem to be at all how this was going. The son of Athena held the paintbrush reverently, as if it was the greatest thing a demigod had ever had the pleasure of holding.
Then his story began, and Jamie found himself falling into a seat on the opposite side of the table—despite his earlier fears—listening In rapt attention with wide, stunned eyes. This had to be a joke. He looked down at the paintbrush in awe. Aiden had stabbed a storm spirit to death with that? He looked back at the other boy with an expression of astonishment and admiration. He wasn’t sure which he should respect more, the weapon that was apparently more useful than he thought, or the demigod who had wielded it.
He watched Will carefully as the other boy took the paintbrush, returning it to it’s original form and back quite easily. He wished he’d thought of that in the moment, but being distracted by the impending threat of death by storm spirit seemed like a valid excuse. Besides, Aiden had a much cooler story to tell now, didn’t he?
He made a face of confusion as Will began talking about scaring the paintbrush, his concern showing clearly in his face. “It’s—you can...you can tell how my knife feels?” Of course his weapon had been scared of the scythe. Of course it had been too nervous to actually come out during a fight. That seemed a little too fitting. A cowardly weapon for a cowardly boy. For a moment he thought Will might be mocking him, then he realized the other boy didn’t know him well enough to do such a thing so accurately. But the paintbrush had done the job anyways, it had defeated the venti...it just needed a confidence boost?
The thought was strange, but he took the brush from Will, staring at it with newfound respect and sympathy. He simply nodded in response to the son of Hephaestus’ words, his attention still focused on the celestial bronze paintbrush in his hands. “I will,” he promised. If his cowardly knife could win a battle in the form of a paintbrush, surely he could take a risk for once in his life too.
“You’re going?” He looked at Aiden with raised brows. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about the quest besides Chuck, Chiron and Teilo. He wasn’t sure why he felt slightly comforted by the idea of the Athena head counsellor being part of it, but if the guy could beat up a storm spirit with a paintbrush clearly he’d be able to hold his own with a weapon in it’s form intended for fighting. “Yeah, I—“ His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again, speaking with more conviction this time. “I am too.” He spoke decisively, having finally come to an agreement with his anxious mind and constant instinct to flee at the sight of danger.
if only i could keep you in my pocket
to give me some diagnosis of why i'm so hollow
please give me instructions, i promise i'll follow
i tripped on my ankle and fractured my elbow
but doesn't that mean that the tour's gonna sell, though?
i try to explain the good faith that's been wasted
but after an hour, it sounds like complaining
wait, don't go away, can i lie here forever?
you say that i'm better, why don't i feel better?
the universe works in mysterious ways
but i'm starting to think it ain't working for me
doctor, should i be good, should i be good this year?
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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞
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