Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: auggie auggie auggie.
ivicabin thirteen.

"is there not a level of suffering involved in people being made aware of the fact that they walk amongst people who hold a level of comedic genius that they will never possess? i think that could be a route out of that. they'd be permanently comparing themselves to the best," he offered up. he didn't think she wanted people to suffer at all. a front of it existed, maybe, but it was defensive. he understood that. "i think that's it. i think you don't want to put that pain on people. it's noble of you." easier than just saying that's not true, and far less confrontational to the matter at hand. "load of kids in tanzania started laughing one day and didn't stop for weeks. it was contagious, apparently. spread through villages and all." he explained. "dunno why i know that. dunno why i know anything."

politicans were absolutely just extroverted basement dwellers. he could see no other description that was more fitting. "i mean, half of them, you can just imagine them sort of... slumped over on some suspiciously-stained sofa, wearing an egg-stained vest, in complete darkness, greasy faces only lit by the glow of their fingerprint-smeared laptop screens. right? i'm not the only person who thinks that. i can't be," he paused. "i'm not saying i'd do that. i don't even own an egg-stained vest." as though that was the only thing that set him apart from the description he'd given. "i think i'd make a good politician. one of the funny ones, though. like count binface or the incredible flying brick." stamp collecting, as had been concluded, was boring. "you'd need something to wind down after that rush, though. if life never gets any more exciting than going to space, best to be able to settle for boredom."

what didn't he have against new york? "it smells really bad," he decided. "and i saw a rat dragging a whole slice of pizza through the subway once. people parted for it. people don't even part for heavily-pregnant women in this state, but a rat dragging a slice of pizza gets right of way. it's twisted." it seemed a reasonable thing to harbour distaste for. "i bet that wouldn't happen in fiji." set on this now, a new goal to seek.

the moment the words were said, orin felt the tenderness that came alongside. a reminder, and then a sadness, her head feeling heavier against him, words a little bit thicker than they had been. he didn't acknowledge it verbally, just settled his hand so it held the back of her head, ran his thumb up and down a couple of times. "clearly you've never seen those videos of the cats that get surprised by the sudden presence of a cucumber," he said, voice soft, easing away from the sensitive topic. and when it came to the miniature confession, he felt a tug in his chest. "the results of telling me that could be catastrophic. my head'd develop a gravitational pull." there came that funny little feeling again, tears that threatened the back of his eyes for no palpable reason that he could manage to discern.

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐬 ！！ x─────ix ♖
x──────i ii thanatos. iii seventeen. iiii tags: tavie, audra, moxie.
ivi hampton inn, roof stairwell, floor 2 hallway.

no plan. not that he knew of, anyway. not that he could grasp in that moment. just go out and fix whatever was going on. his plan was to drive them there, and, if luck would have it, drive them back. maybe there'd be a confrontation in the middle. maybe they'd all join hands with the threatening forces and sing campfire songs until order was restored on the planet again. "a bunch of teenagers, going up to khione, with no plan?" he paused. "i think it should scare her to death." there were always 'bigger things at play'. the mention of the doors of death made him cringe a little. the last thing he needed was a spell of vomiting. for now, the nausea appeared to remain at bay. good. essentially, what he was hearing was that they were in over their heads.

"sightless doe. no idea," he said simply. he was ignorant to most of the happenings, and maybe that was to her benefit. he had no true preconceived notions about vivienne and the situations that surrounded her - everything was set in stone, retrospective fact that he had had no involvement with. easier to preach to the undecided. "well, i'm glad to hear that she values logic over all else," he commented, maybe a tad brusquely. he was in pain. he was tired. it didn't feel like a good reason to abandon polite procedure, but it was happening regardless of whether his more reasonable mind thought it right or not.

audra continued on, the plight clearly emotional in its nature. no one wanted to see someone they loved float downstream in the manner that vivienne clearly had. he could gather that much. khione, in addition, did not sound like the kind of mother figure who would be forgiving of weakness. "giant war," teilo said, the immediate assumption that it was simply a battle that had been great in size, quickly mentally slated as something completely different. he would have heard about a giant war if it had been named in relation to size. something else, then. something that probably had something to do with giants. he had been so fixed on that that he nearly zoned out of the words being spouted, pulled himself back. "right. so all we need to do is convince a traumatised, grieving, and heftily manipulated teenager that she can trust the people that she blames for the death of someone that she cared deeply about. i don't know why none of us thought of that." sardonic, but he couldn't deny that the context he had been given was helpful. a shrug. "i can't promise anything. it's not down to me. if i were to tell you that no harm will come to her, then i'd have an obligation, and i can't do that. i can tell you i'll try." whatever trying looked like.

his eyes widened when her words shifted to his opinions. he didn't particularly want them to matter. that made things far more dangerous. a sharp, breathy noise, not discernable between a bitter laugh or a huff of pain. "right," felt as though there was a microscope on him. "i'm sure we'll meet again, at some point. that tends to be what people say, isn't it?"

the scene was shattered by the dull chatter behind and the following flash of a camera. he hadn't had the chance to say cheese. the mere mention of the food had been enough to pull a grimace to his face - he didn't imagine it would be a very nice photo. regardless of his qualms about his captured appearance, it felt a good moment to leave. "right." he slapped his knee as he stood, glancing between audra, the new face, and the two reapers. "good luck. if i never see any of you again, it'll be too soon. enjoy being dead, have a wonderful afterlife, and you -" he looked directly at the reaper that clive had stated to be named 'chess'. teilo clenched his fist, elbow half-crooked, and slapped his bare bicep as he rose the tensed hand to the sky. "hywl fawr,"

something on the stairs did end up catching his eye, picked up alongside emrys almost instinctively. he didn't have time to question it, to question the photo or the presence of the reapers or the new (with stress on new) spirit, just focused his mind on walking down the staircase with as much grace and decorum as he could muster.
it felt like walking up a mountain. which was ironic, given that he was facing a decline rather than a large hill.

luckily, the steps did extend to a landing with the most beautiful lift he thought he had ever laid eyes on, and when he stepped in, bashed the number two on the keypad, he glanced at the letter in his hands with trepidation. he didn't normally - well, he had dabbled in shoplifting, but this felt like stealing something important. not a bar of chocolate or a rotisserie chicken. so rapt by the leaf of paper in his hands, too nervy to open it, to read it, that the ride went smoothly and quickly, doors pinging as they dragged open.

he just sort of assumed he had turned invisible. he didn't remember doing it, but that didn't mean that he hadn't. it would have been ridiculous if he hadn't, so he must have. no one was reasonably going to look out of their rooms at this time of night to lay eyes on a shivering, blood-drenched teenager - not a chance in hell.

[WitchHazel]

Mirabelle Everhart
|♡|17|She/Her|Aphrodite|Head Counselor|Location: Hampton Inn Room 207|Tags: Ash|

Despite the fatigue gnawing at her roots, Mirabelle listened attentively as Ash told his story. Her face wore a genuine look of empathy. "I can't say my powers haven't slipped like that before," she admitted. "When I was younger, I told one of the school bullies to punch himself in the face. He was just as confused as I was when he actually did it." Amusement coloured her tone, though she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty - even years later. "Needless to say, you're not alone there. I - I did mess up royally once when I used it on my - um, one of my exes." She only had one ex, but he didn't need to know that. "It was... it was kind of a mess." It had been a complete accident, but knowing that didn't make it hurt any less. "We were fighting, and I told my ex to 'go jump in the lake'. Normally it wouldn't have done much harm, but - she has a thing with water; large bodies of water, anyway. Um - oh my." The realisation that she'd said 'she' sent a rush of heat to her face. Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag now. Did he - did he notice? I hope he didn't notice. Maybe if I don't say anything he won't notice. "Needless to say, it didn't turn out well." The panic attack that had followed on Juliet's part prompted Mirabelle to jump in after her and drag her to shore. The daughter of Hermes had struggled the whole time, even though she couldn't actually swim.

Part of her was glad she wasn't the only person who had screwed up when it came to romance, though she felt an instant rush of guilt for thinking so. Another part of her felt relieved that she wasn't the only person who had feelings towards the same sex. 'Yer goin' tah Hell fer that, girlie. It ain't natural.' Her grandfather's voice in her mind. She wasn't sure if he'd ever really said that to her, but it was definitely something he would say. She silently told him in no uncertain words to shut up, though she used language he would have said was 'unbefittin' fer a lil' lady'.

Ash's voice dragged her back into the present moment. "Online friends? That must've been interesting. I've never really had any online friends before." She'd had a pen pal for a bit; a friend she'd made en Paris. Angélique and she wrote letters to each other for years before Camp Half-Blood, after meeting at fashion week. Mirabelle had found she could write a response in perfect French without even trying after reading Angélique's letters. It was as if her brain just automatically switched to the language. She would think she was writing in English, but everything was en Français.

She was again broken from her musings as she resumed examining Ash's hand. "Iris-message them tonight? Maybe tomorrow would be better - they're probably at campfire or getting ready for bed right now." Not to mention the funerals that are no doubt taking place. Her heart sank at the thought, though she maintained a cheery expression on the outside. I wish I could be there to say goodbye. She hadn't been especially close with any of the deceased, but that didn't change the fact that they had still been a part of her life. Alex was a cabinmate, for Olympus's sake. I wish I could have helped make his funeral shroud, at least. Still, she knew leaving on the quest was the right thing. She would be helping to prevent countless more deaths by taking down the bad guys. If we survive. And if they really are bad guys. Everything she'd heard about Vivienne just convinced her that she was more of a pawn than a villain herself - just a severely misguided soul grieving the loss of the one most dear to her. She could empathise with that, in a sense. Her father wasn't dead, but... he doesn't even know who I am anymore.

Ash's comment that she 'looked tired' sent a jolt of self-consciousness through her. "I - I'm not that tired; I'm fine." She did her best to reassemble her composure; to make herself look less drained. She wasn't sure how well it worked - Ash seemed pretty perceptive. At his suggestion to venture out in search of the ice machine, she perked herself right up. "Sure, why not?" It might be nice to stretch her legs before bed. Besides that, she was picking up a confusion of emotions coming from somewhere outside the door. She couldn't deny that her curiosity got the better of her there. Plastering an easy smile across her lips, she pushed herself from the bed and walked towards the door.


Kathryn Blackwood
|☽|17|She/Her|Hecate|Location: Cabins Circle|Tags: Cricket, Lucy|

Kathryn almost pointed out that the guy was already dead, but it was kind of a moot point. The spirit had already tried to do the same. "Iron's usually the only thing that can kill spirits - for the second time, that is," she purred instead. "If those are iron-tipped arrows... nice. If not... don't worry. I've got your back. His necromancer's control isn't active anymore, is it? Otherwise we'd still be under attack by countless other undead. So... why is this one still around? He seems to have an inkling of autonomy... interesting." It was refreshing, albeit mildly concerning, that Kathryn wasn't the only one who could see him.

"I have to admit, I'm curious about what he has to say for himself - even if it might just be a pack of lies." She twirled the stygian iron dagger menacingly in her fingers, though the smile never left her lips. The thought crossed her mind that her makeup was likely in a state of disarray - she wasn't a child of Aphrodite; she couldn't just fix that. Taking her contacts out had proven to be no problem - a simple yet precise levitation. Even if she felt like shards of glass were cutting into her eyebrows because she'd fallen asleep with them in. She'd forgotten to summon her glasses, however, up until that moment - she'd been wondering why the spirit seemed so blurry, and then realised it wasn't just him. A pair of black-rimmed glasses perched upon her face as if they'd always been there.

Much better. Now I can actually see properly. Her coffee-brown eyes flickered to the spirit now, training a dangerous gaze upon him. "If you make one move against us, I'll put you back down into the ground where you belong. Understand?" She didn't doubt that she had the strength to dismiss one spirit. A pack of them, maybe not after the stunt she'd pulled at the battle, but one? Surely he didn't pose too much of a threat. He seemed unarmed, and besides - he was pinned to the side of the Poseidon cabin. "Perhaps he knows something," she mused aloud, her honeyed voice low. "We could interrogate him. I was getting bored... an interrogation seems like just the thing to spice things up again."

Liv Keary
|✂|15|She/Her|Iris (Unclaimed)|Location: Campfire|Tags: Corey|

"An Aries kid? Again with the Greek god of zodiac signs?" Liv snorted, not even bothering to look up from her drawing save her glances at the eerily beautiful fire. "... I think I am an Aries actually. April second. Is that Aries or Taurus? Wait, nevermind, don't really care. Zodiacs are stupid anyways, unless we're talking zodiac killer. Because that was metal. They never caught the guy." She wasn't necessarily paying attention to her words as much as she should have been; the sketch was taking up most of her attention. She wanted to get the movements just right so she could transpose it onto a larger canvas before painting.

"Art's the only thing I've ever been called 'patient' at." Didn't make a ton of sense, but Liv didn't care. "It's relaxing. You get in your own little world and you just create." It was easy not to care what people thought when she was doing art. She was creating for her, not them. Sure, it was nice when people saw the same message in her pieces that she'd been trying to convey, but that didn't matter as much as what it meant to her. Most people were too stupid to look for deep meaning anyway. They just saw a piece of art and went 'that's pretty' or 'oh yup, that's art' or 'what the hell is that even supposed to be!?' dang plebs.


Chuck Oakes
|❀|He/Him|Satyr|Location: Campfire|Tags: Jack|

Chuck nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded from next to him, but he quickly relaxed when he noticed that it was just Jack. "Like, yeah, man! Sorry, I was like totally spacin'. But I'm groovy, or - uh, at least chill." He kicked at a clump of snow with a cloven hoof. "I was just like, rememberin' that Mr. D's gotta say goodbye to one of his kids, you know? Major bummer for the dude, man."

The thought of funerals turned his mind to Orin, who was absolutely, totally, definitely dead. Is his body like... still there, or did he like, jump back into it or somethin'? Two Orins was a wild thought, even if one was technically inanimate. If the funerals are like, startin' up soon... should I go find the dude and tell him? I don't want him to miss his entrance, man! Got 'Don't Fear the Reaper' ready to go on pipes and everythin'.

Vivienne Isole
|❄|18|She/Her|Khione|Location: Morgantown, PA|Tags: Kayle|

Vivienne nodded sharply, realised Kayle couldn't see the action, and let out a small sigh. "Yes." Her response was crisp and clipped. Yes, it was nice to be in clean clothes. But her bare arms prickled against the air. The band t-shirt hung loosely around her petite frame, exposing some of the pale scarring across her collarbone and back. The brunt of it on her upper arms was shielded by the sleeves, with just a few ends of ancient cuts peeking through the fabric. She wasn't sure why she felt so exposed - it wasn't as if Kayle could actually see the scars. Still, the prospect of having them out in the open wasn't a friendly one. My story written across my flesh for all to lay eye upon. She tugged at the cuff of one of her sleeves.

Thermostat? I have not touched the thermostat. She was about to say as much when she realised Kayle must have been picking up on her latent abilities. Her powers often reacted to emotion, and it was no surprise they were slipping from her control given how exhausted she was. "I suppose I shall engage in the consumption of sustenance." Hesitantly, Vivienne drew closer to the table and took a seat. I smell like snow? I suppose I do. It made sense, given her parentage and what she could do. "Snowdrop... that is the name of the canine." It was more of a statement than a question; a realisation aloud. Putting a name to the dog helped to solidify it - no, her - as more of a living creature and not a beast of destruction that would rip her limb from limb.

Vivienne picked at her food, still wary though Nicholas had a major hand in its preparation. Kayle seemed to notice her reluctance, given her assurance of the safety of the dish. One bite will not hurt... correct? Though she could see light steam rising from the food, she raised a forkful to her lips. Oh... oh my. This is - scrumptious. Despite the warmth, the meal was in fact delicious. A myriad of flavours washed over her tongue as she took another bite. None she could name, but did it matter? Eating made her realise how hungry she really was. It took everything in her to eat like a civilised person. She would not abandon her fine manners, even if she was starving and the food was amazing.

Audra Stark
|⛈|17|She/They|Kymopoleia|Ghost|Location: Hampton Inn, Roof Stairwell|Tags: Teilo ➡ Moxie, Reapers|

Audra let out a small laugh at his remark about Khione facing a ragtag group of teens with no plan. "Oh, definitely. It'll send shivers up her spine, no doubt." The thought of Khione cowering behind her throne at the sight of a bunch of demigods was amusing as all hell, and sent a thrill of satisfaction surging through Audra's nonexistent veins.

Her mood sobered as the living demigod continued on, though she bristled a bit at his blunt comment. Calm down, jeez. He's just telling the truth. Better than lying or faking sympathy. Vivienne would've hated if he'd tried to sympathise. He'll try, at least. He'll try to reason with her. That had to be enough. Audra knew she wouldn't be getting anything else, and that had to be enough. Besides, Vivienne was under the protection of Death himself - she would be fine, right? "I know it's not easy. But - thank you. For trying, at least. That's really all I can hope for. It's ultimately her decision whether she pulls herself out of the darkness or sinks further in."

She could almost feel the exhaustion dragging at his bones. He seemed to be wrapping up though - good for him. "Thanks, I guess?" She flashed him a grin, though the melancholic faraway look never left her eyes. "If we meet again, let's hope it's under better circumstances." As the teenage boy turned and walked away, Audra shifted her attention to the reapers and the other spirit with them. She had barely even noticed when they had taken a picture; her focus had been consumed by the conversation at hand. She supposed she didn't mind. I don't even know if ghosts show up in photos. I guess they must, with all the weird haunting photos and stuff out there.

The other spirit was an older woman, looking to be somewhere in her late twenties to early thirties. The first thing Audra noticed about her was her height. She was tall; unusually so for a woman. She looked a little worse for wear, considering she'd spent most of the conversation puking ectoplasm over the balcony. Who knew sea legs came in handy for more than sailing? Audra was lucky that way, she supposed. She'd only been mildly confused when she'd come out of the transport. The next thing her eyes gravitated towards were the tattoos. She really pulls those off. They look awesome. Then her eyes travelled lower, stopping at where Moxie's left leg would've been. She... her leg is missing... does she even know? The woman was standing perfectly fine, so the question wasn't invalid. Invalid - oh, great use of words there, Audra. Had that been aloud, she probably would have buried her head in her hands. The whole once-over only took a couple of seconds before Audra's gaze was on the woman's face, catching on the small nose piercing on the left side. "You must be amulet girl. Audra Stark, pleased to meet you." She offered a wave in greeting, paired with a small smile. "Looks like we're taking a trip down to the styx together, huh?"

[indigo']

━━━ 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬

[✩]17|she/her|Hades|Head Counsellor|Cabin Thirteen|tags: Orin

Auggie hadn’t expected him to agree with the assurance that she wanted to cause suffering, but anything said on the contrary would have earned nothing more than an eye roll, attempted reinstatement of the facade that she didn’t care. But of course he didn’t go either route. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking, knew exactly what to say in response. “Maybe it is. I guess it’s too late for you, though. Sorry. You’re just going to have to deal with that now.” She offered him a little smile. “That’s…” She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the words ‘laughter epidemic’. “That’s really creepy, actually. I think I might prefer snow.” The world ending in laughter sounded more like something out of a horror movie than a preferable way for things to go down. Laughing through the end was one thing, laughter being the end was disturbing.

The vivid description certainly painted a picture. Her face twisted in disgust, attempting to summon some kind of a response and failing. “Are you sure you’re not writing fanfiction about this?” she asked finally. "Because that was...incredibly detailed." She laughed at the justification of his point on egg-stained vest related conditions. “Thank god for that.” She couldn’t imagine him being a politician, not stupid or corrupt enough—or at all—but the names he mentioned implied he hadn’t been entirely serious. “Right…” she said slowly, expression making it clear she had no idea what or who he was talking about.

Her head shot up at the first attack against New York, eyebrow raised. “I thought you didn’t have a sense of smell?” she challenged, pointing a finger at him accusingly. She stifled a laugh at the second reason, settling her head against his chest again. “Rats have rights here. I think that’s part of it’s charm.” She couldn’t reasonably disagree with him, but despite the hatred she harboured for the place she’d grown up and nearly everyone in it, she still felt like she needed to defend it. “I bet the rats have coconuts in Fiji,” she replied, ignoring the point entirely. “I bet they’re pretentious rats.” She had absolutely nothing against Fiji or it’s alleged coconut rats, but the statement was said with conviction nevertheless.

Auggie knew he’d caught the flicker of sadness in her voice, knew that she hadn’t brushed over it as smoothly as she’d tried to, but she didn’t really care. They were well past the point of needing to fear a moment of vulnerability. She appreciated the silent comforting, glad that he didn’t actually say anything about it, worried that if he had, she might not be able to control the surge of emotions welling up inside, threatening to choke her. “Clearly,” she replied softly, voice still a little rough. She had a habit of being a little more honest when she was sleep deprived than in her usual state of cold calculation. She didn’t think that actually had anything to do with the confession, certain she would have said it either way, certain that she wanted him to know. “Exactly,” she murmured. “Don’t want that happening.”

━━━ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬

[✦]16|they/them|Kymopoleia|Outside|tags: Liv

Corey shook their head at the response, the corner of their mouth twitching in a smile. “Whoever is graced with the responsibility of teaching you Greek history is going to have a hell of a time, you know that?” Liv didn’t seem like the type of person to sit in a lesson and be taught about the gods and their powers and the correct spellings of their names. They weren’t sure they’d actually taken part in anything like that, all the information just sort of got picked up along the way and eventually things started to stick. “No idea.” They spread their hands and shrugged at the question regarding zodiacs. “Never really subscribed to that kinda stuff. I’m not against it or anything, I just don’t enjoy people telling me what I’m supposed to be or how things are gonna happen. Especially not a piece of paper or a...star or...however that works.” Apparently Liv felt similarly, remembering that she didn’t care moments after asking the question. “Oh, hell yeah. That’s a conversation I’m in for.” A quick glance around, remembering where they were. “Maybe another time…” They weren’t usually so self-aware or concerned about the feelings of others, but a mass funeral seemed like a really insensitive time to discuss murder. “When I show you my stick figures, we can discuss theories.”

“Yeah? I prefer to always be in my own little world.” A fancy way of saying they were oblivious to those around them. “I’m not great at relaxing.” They tilted their head, considering the statement. “Unless it involves sleeping. I’m good at that. I can fall asleep anywhere.” Their expression was the most serious it had been, clearly taking pride in the skill. “Probably could’ve fallen asleep during that whole skeleton thing if I wanted to.” Sure, the Hypnos kids could do the same thing, but that was because of godly influence. Corey had developed the talent all on their own.

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐀𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫
[✦] | Athena Head Counselor | 15 | Male | ➡ Hampton, Room 204 | Tags: Jamie
❝ 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑠❞

Jamie searched for an explanation, waving in vague gestures in an attempt to grasp an incomplete thought. Aiden cracked a smile at the vain attempt. "It's fine," he assured the other camper. "I'm sure I'll get my answers someday, probably the same day I get to have a conversation with my mother." Some of his siblings have had conversations with Athena, but they were few and far between. Not to mention vague. "She's the goddess of wisdom, and my guess is she either has enough faith in her kids to figure stuff out, or she only cares about the ones who are smart enough to figure it out." It sounded a little cruel, but it was basically natural selection. It made sense to him, and so far, the memories in the back of his head were the only ones that didn't make any sense. "The answers are out there somewhere. No time better than now to see if I can find them. After this quest, I really don't want to go on another one." Aiden turned onto his knees, wading across his bed to grab one of the pillows. "We should get some sleep though, we're heading for Mount Marcy tomorrow and none of us need to be sleeping on the way there."

──────── 𝐊𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐱
[✦] | Mortal | 19 | Female | ➡ Morgantown, PA | Tags: Vivienne
❝ 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒❞

Kayle nodded around a mouthful of food, swallowing another large bite before speaking. "Yeah. I don't know if you could tell since she's not wearing her harness, but she's my service dog." Vivienne was due an explanation for all that, considering Kayle hadn't been very specific about much in the time they'd been together. "You've noticed by now I'm blind. As in, very blind." She waved her hand in front of her face. "I can get around easily enough, but in crowds especially it's difficult to tell things apart on such short notice, so Snowdrop helps me get around faster than I would on my own." Kayle absolutely was self-sufficient enough to manage without a service dog, but living in New York especially, things were fast-paced. Snowdrop made things quicker and easier, and Kayle enjoyed the company her dog offered. "She can be a handful off the job, but she's well-trained." It may not sate Vivienne's unease, but hopefully she wouldn't be so rigid around Snowdrop in the future.

As Vivienne took her first few bites, Kayle wolfed down the remainder of her own, patting her chest and suppressing a burp. It might have been a mistake to eat all that so late, oh well. She slept better on a full stomach. Nicholas showed no signs of coming back, even after she finished eating. Kayle leaned on her crossed arms, eyes settled on the door. She could still sense his energy faintly, and she knew exactly where he was. After a moment, Kayle set her phone on the counter and tapped the home button a few times. "Call Nick." a pause before a robotic voice replied. "Calling Nick." It rang for about a minute before going to voicemail, but Kayle didn't bother leaving a message. "Looks like I'm going to have to go get him," she sighed. "He's an idiot on the best of days."

──────── 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐞 "𝐌𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐞" 𝐁𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩
[✦] | Mars | 29 | Female | ➡ Hampton Inn, Roof Stairwell | Tags: Audra, Reapers
❝ ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒❞

Moxie didn't have a whole lot of time to process what all had transpired before the one living human took his leave. She almost wanted to ask for him to stay, or to go with him in search of some answers, but he was gone before she had time to come to a decision. There goes that idea, she thought with a sigh. The pair behind her continued their conversation, bickering like an old married couple. She couldn't tell if the incorporeal one was like this with everyone, or if the two of them had a history together. At this point, she didn't really care. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Tavie purred, squinting at the screen. "That picture looks terrible." Chess commented. "I didn't think he would stay long enough for a good one. And considering that gesture he gave you, I don't think you made a very good impression." Moxie could almost hear Chess rolling their eyes.
"Unless he keels over in the middle of the night, I'll never have to see him again."
"Unless he's bossman's kid. Or Grim's."
"Don't be ridiculous." they scoffed. "- and, don't jinx it."

"You must be amulet girl. Audra Stark, pleased to meet you." The sound of another pulled Moxie back to reality. The other ghost was staring. At her. Moxie blinked a few times to clear the cotton from her head, massaging her temple. "Amulet girl?" she repeated, looking back at her hand. She noticed before that she was see-through, but only now did she noticed she was notably more transparent than Audra. "Uh... Moxie." She introduced herself plainly. "Moxie Bishop. I guess we're both dead then." Moxie turned back to the others. "Does that make one of them the Grim Reaper? Or are they both? Because I thought there was... just one." Tavie and Chess were both rather occupied with the stolen device clutched in their hand, but neither expected it to start shaking. The sound of an iPhone jingle filled their stairwell, and Tavie did the only appropriate thing: she dropped it. It clattered down the stairs, growing more distant until the ringing stopped. Both reapers peered down the stairwell, exchanging a worried look. "He's going to kill you." Chess said. "I know." Tavie squeaked. "Unless he doesn't find out?" Chess patted her on the shoulder. "I'll let you handle that. I'm leaving." They were there, and then they weren't. There was no telling when or how Chess left the stairwell, but it was no longer present. Moxie kept her eyes on Tavie as they descended the staircase, slowly turning back to Audra. "Wh - What were you saying about an amulet? she asked blankly.

──────── 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐞𝐧
[✦] | Apollo | 16 | Female | ➡ Outside Cabin 3 | Tags: Cricket, Kathryn
❝ 𝑖 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑟❞

Aww, what a sweet little thing. Of course the nymph had been looking to lend a helping hand. It came as no surprise to Lucy; after all, she'd gotten many small favors from Cricket in the past. He never struck her as a combative type, so seeing him so unsettled in wake of the attack didn't surprise her, either. "Nothing to fear, darling. If this wretch dares move, I'll end its life." The spirit looked mildly offended. "I don't exactly have a life for you to end anymore," it mumbled, but it refrained from making any sudden movements. Based on its appearance and equipment, it was one of the military ghosts that had taken part in the attack. Against all odds, it seemed to have survived until now. A second voice hummed behind her, but Lucy refrained from turning around to greet the daughter of Hecate. "Oh, nothing too much. Just one of these measly spirits who broke into the camp and thought it could get away with it." "I have a name -" "Don't speak."

──────── 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐦 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧
[✦] | Hephaestus | 18 | Male | Cabin 7 ➡ Dining Pavilion | Tags: Tomas
❝ ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒❞

"No worries," Will responded. "I 'aven't been around, so I don' expect you to remember me." He would've given the child of Tyche a friendly wave, but between the blindness and his occupied hands, he decided against the gesture. "Nice t' meet y' again anyway. Yer name ain't comin' t' me, so how 'bout y' come t' my table with me? I'm sure Mr. D won't throw a tantrum between everythin' else that's 'appened." Already, he'd spotted campers mingling slightly between tables, speaking in mostly hushed tones. The wine god was nowhere to be seen, but now didn't feel like the right time to bust a blood vessel over something so trivial. The camp was in shambles as it was, and people were grieving. The funerals hadn't even started yet. "C'mon feller, follow th' sound of my voice." Although he didn't know the boy's name, he didn't want him to feel excluded in light of the events over the last two days. The Tyche cabin wasn't the most populous by any means, and he couldn't say he recalled anyone sitting at their designated picnic table that morning. With that, Wilhelm made his way over to the Hephaestus table, silently greeting those of his siblings that were present. He didn't immediately see Jude or Mateo, which led him to believe they were still in the Apollo cabin. Will took his seat and audibly patted the space next to him so the other registered that it was available.

──────── 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐳
[✦] | Oracle of Delphi | 23 | Male | ➡ Cabin 10 | Tags: Honey
❝ 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠❞

It hurt. More accurately, however, it stung. Or perhaps saying it burned fit better. Frost bite. If the situation weren't so dire, he might've laughed at the irony of it. Despite his earlier fumbles and stutters with Honey, she seemed to have her heart set on staying. It surprised him, so say the least. "Th - Thank - Thank you." Cain struggled to get the words out, but a weight lifted from his chest once they were in open air. "I wouldn't expect you to have healing powers," that would be far too convenient. The bite on his arm hurt so much that the pain started to numb, only coming on and off in waves. He wasn't sure if that's how pain worked, but Cain didn't have a better answer to describe it. Still, a description like that could pose problems; from what he remembered, not all of the satyrs were very good at interpreting meaning, especially if metaphors were used. Cain winced as he accepted Honey's offered hand, taking aid to stagger back to his feet. "The -" a pause, long enough for the reminder to settle in. "I think Cabin Seven is the new infirmary," he corrected softly, the fingers on his right arm quaking from the cold.

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: auggie auggie auggie.
ivicabin thirteen.

orin snapped his fingers, exaggerated a sigh. "i suppose i'll have to grin and bear it," he said, though imagined that most of that phrase would come true in the smiling. "yeah, it's pretty grim. it was a stress response, i think. not quite - not quite python's funniest joke in the world. one of those weird little things." he thought on the topic for a moment. "like the dancing plague." anyone would think he was making it up. "people died of that, though. so it's a bit less interesting and a bit more bone-chilling. danced themselves to death. i have a weird little feeling that mr. d had something to do with that."

he was a descriptive person, what could he say? "look, i know how to paint a picture. i've a very artistic mind. it's not my fault i can imagine these scenarios - i'd actually consider it more of a curse than a gift, if anything. i can really feel the... the ripeness of that basement." the atmosphere of it. he, of course, didn't have the chops to be a proper politician. a joke one, maybe. a throwaway, protest vote. something like that appealed to him. "i could - i could dress up as oscar the grouch. imagine watching an election play out, all these ancient fellas trying to be serious while someone's in full muppet-garb. i'd probably get sued, but i think it'd be worth it."

orin nodded heartily at the challenge. "exactly. how bad must it be if i can smell it?" in reality, he'd heard the complaints, felt the heaviness of the air, seen all the things that looked as though they would have stinklines emanating from them if drawn in a comic fashion. "rats shouldn't have those kinds of rights. you're giving them the opportunity to start some kind of rodent uprising. i, for one, completely denounce the idea of guinea pig overlords." there was no chance that fiji had coconut rats. "i think they were eradi- eraticated from some of the islands. we'll be going to them." he pointed at nothing, his point punctuated. "no pretentious rats. no rats at all. even if they did have rats, they wouldn't be pizza-dragging mutants like the ones here."

emotions were still strung high, no matter how much the conversation drifted from the matters at hand. it was near impossible to forget, especially when the little triggers lay just underneath the surface of seemingly light conversations. orin did find, however, that it felt easier to cope with them in the calm atmosphere that they had manifested for themselves. it didn't need explaining, the little acknowledgement feeling good enough. "there's the cat in the hat, as well. he's quite the legend," he rose, only half invested in the words. "though i do question whether thing one and thing two are aware of their rights. i hope they've unionised," though already comfortably warm enough, orin used his free hand to drag the duvet over her - and by extension, half of himself - for the sake of the cocoon alone. difficult thoughts were a little bit easier when externally cushioned, he believed wholeheartedly. "my skull would not suit being a planet. best keep it under wraps for now."

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♙
x──────i ii eris proxy. iii thirty-seven. iiii tags: ramsay.
ivi hotel.

"there's no such thing as a silly celebration. you're free. you've had your first fanta, your first ride in a lift - this is a celebration for a step into a brand new world of firsts," malcolm grinned, sharky and wide. the gawking came as no surprise. "go right ahead. it's a bit fiddly. getting the right temperature's like trying to unlock a safe. i'm sure you'll figure it out." he waved her off, kicked his shoes off at the door and took his strides toward where an array of papers were scattered across the suite's coffee table, collapsing on the sofa to make a final check on the emails.

there quite a few. that came as no surprise. he was a man in high demand, and highly popular now that his face was plastered across every screen on either side of the atlantic. people wanted their soundbites, their confirmations, their questions answered. as easy as it would have been to provide, there was something rather more satisfying about watching the tabloids scramble for an explanation, context behind his words. in the interest of passive voice, they had to present arguments that would deny his claims - but when his were the first of their kind, all they could do was take his word as gospel. it was beautifully crafted. a pat on the back for himself.

hicks arrived in the room with the promised rubber gloves and a keycard for another room. ramsay's, he presumed - confirmed by a bag of hastily-bought clothes and toiletries. "everything's shutting. i had to scramble a bit. i don't know if the clothes'll fit." he said.
"it'll do for now," malcolm nodded. "i appreciate it. thank you."
"so - so who is she? exactly?"
a glance up. "not a clue," he answered simply. "you can head to bed if you'd like. i don't believe i'm due for an attempted assassination yet." a little, knowing smile. "i'm sure it'll come."
dan glanced between him, the door that hid ramsay, and the papers sprawled across the table. "alright. if you need anything -" a couple of vague gestures that essentially translated to 'i'll be next door.'

and then, off he went. hardly any questions asked. malcolm did enjoy that.

[*Lovel*]

『❄❅』 Aydan Hunt『❅❄』

Son of Khione ☃ Cabin 22 ☃ 16 ☃ Heterosexual

≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎

Tags: Ophelia
Location: Hiding in plain sight

"Stamina huh?" Aydan's eyes only drifted to her. Normally he wasn't out of breath after doing running like that but the stress wasn't helping with his breathing nor the catching of it. She flinched and he wondered for a moment if he was being too aggressive. Soon the thought went to the wind as Ophelia placed her hand on his shoulder. Is this supposed to be comforting? It wasn't, not at this moment at least, any other time it'd be but not right now. Right now nothing could comfort the jackhammering in his chest, the way he was feeling hot in this winter wonderland, the way his feet and mind were conspiring to have him run away. But, he didn't run he stayed put, saying the words that needed to be said.

At first she had seemed confused about his words then the pieces had seemed to finally go together as her eyes grew in size. Should I have lead with the other news first? Does bad news always go first? Is it bad news? a twinge of guilt squeezed at his heart. It was bad news, why wouldn't it be? Your father only died. His mind came back to attention although he wished it hadn't as Ophelia was seemingly at a loss. Is the thought of me liking her that horrible that she is dying from shock?

She was finally saying something.... yet somehow nothing at the same time. Though her hand still remained on his shoulder, he moved a hand and rested it on top of hers. Then she did one of the most dreadfully embarrassing outcomes he thought of, she laughed. Anger and embarrassment bubbled in his chest, he looked away from her and out to the purple flame in the center of the cabins that was trying it best to touch the stars but weren't even coming close. He was about to shrug her off and walk away when her grip on his shoulder tightened. Is she just going to clue me in on the fact that I'm an idiot and how could someone like me? I really want to leave now. "Wait, please?...I... I just..." and with those words he was glued. You must be some kind of special. Pathetic, really.

He stood there frozen like a statue waiting patiently for whatever it was she needed him to wait for. Not that he expected anything more than a rejection right now. She then pulled him in for a hug, his body wanted to make itself smaller at the contact but soon he melted into the hug and putting his arms around her. Ophelia's mouth was close to his ear, when she breathed it sent unwanted shivers all the way down his spine that made him want to react as though he'd been tickled.

"Ye-yes" "Yes?" he repeated before his own breath became hitched. That's unexpected he couldn't determine if yes was as in 'I share these feelings' or 'Yes, you are the blubbering idiot you think you are'. Though her next words didn't seem to favor the latter. "Time? I can do time." he was still slightly confused and was getting mixed signals. As she pulled away he offered her a smile that probably mirrored some of the confusion he felt. "Oh and since I'm handing out news I've got more." a deep breath, was she really going to wanna hear this after that bombshell? "My uh... Dad died." It was a real kicker ending with that one. It didn't seem correct saying out loud. His features twisted more into a look of confusion as he pondered how admitting to someone else his father was dead made him feel.

[indigo']

━━━ 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬

[✩]17|she/her|Hades|Head Counsellor|Cabin Thirteen|tags: Orin

“Suppose you will.” One of those weird little things.“That seems like a bit of an understatement.” It was like laughing at a funeral, she figured, though that didn’t tend to affect entire villages or last for days on end. She’d actually heard of the dancing plague—not a thought she wanted to dwell on any more than the last one. “Wouldn’t put it past him.” She may have been a little biased in her dislike of the wine god, but it did seem like something within his realm.

She nodded along to the boasting of his creative skills, brow furrowed in a fake solemn expression. “I’m sure the Iris kids are...are quaking Are you sure they put you in the right cabin?” Her face twisted in disgust at the use of the word ripeness, scrunching up her nose. “Oh, gross.” Sarcasm aside, he had managed to paint a vivid image. Oscar the Grouch being brought back into the conversation earned a smile from her, a soft chuckle. “I’d like to see that, actually. Imagine if you really tried, really appealed to people. Imagine the looks on the faces of the stuck up old white men if they lost to Oscar the Grouch” She was fairly certain most of the younger generation could be persuaded to vote for a trash muppet over a corrupt politician. “I’d support your campaign.” A contradiction to her earlier qualms with the character, but at least Orin wasn’t going on about him being crunchy anymore.

She exhaled sharply at the response, rolling her eyes. It was a reasonable complaint, if she was being honest. Unfortunately, she'd taken a different stance. “Well, things aren’t going very well with humans in power. Maybe we need a rodent uprising. I think they’ve got what it takes to run a country.” She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d ended up defending subway rats and their inevitable takeover, but she’d chosen her side and she couldn’t give it up now. She attempted a disappointed look at the pun, couldn’t quite manage to hide her smile, and settled for shaking her head. “I don’t like that you’re discriminating against my pizza-dragging mutant rats, but fine. We’ll go to the part of Fiji without coconut rats if that’s what you want.”

The feeling didn’t pass easily, it left a lingering ache in her throat. But it was easier to deal with than it had been, easier being safe and warm and not alone. That felt like a key difference. Eyes closed, it was easier to ignore the tears threatening to spill. But of course, nothing helped dealing with difficult situations more than pondering whether or not Thing One and Thing Two had unionized. A short laugh escaped her, though it came out sounding a little more like a sob. The feeling in her throat hadn’t dissipated, but she wasn’t sure it was the same feeling, something more along the lines of what he’d mentioned before, the overwhelming sense of joy welling up in an undignified way. Maybe it was both, a combination of the trauma the day had brought and the sudden relief from it all. She didn’t think she could speak, didn’t trust her voice to work, but tried anyway. “They used to scare me,” she said quietly, voice crackling slightly. “When I was a kid. That movie terrified me.” The blanket was nice, a physical barrier between them and the outside world, reinforcing the feeling of security, even if it wasn't necessary. “That’s what I thought.”

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: auggie auggie auggie.
ivi cabin thirteen.

"you know what i mean," there were swathes of items throughout history that didn't make much sense, that couldn't be rationalised or intellectualised through the lense of retrospect. they just became 'one of those weird little things', and he liked them that way. he liked the idea that some things beckoned no understanding and simply stayed that way. "he's probably behind it all. maybe that's what he's really being punished for, why he's actually here. 'cause he was causing so much trouble." it was certainly a proposal.

orin had been described as abstract, an anomalous result. people liked to use the word 'creative' with a grimace and a sneer in their tone. that was taken in stride. "i mean, i'd fit right in, i think. i'd bring brand new life into that cabin. they can't experience the rainbow the way i do. i'd - i mean, it's a whole other level. they just wouldn't be able to comprehend my genius." he said. the thought of a muppet politician was certainly getting the gears whirring. stranger things had happened. well - he wasn't sure they had, actually, but that meant that they were ready to occur. nothing too strange. "well, if you'd support it, then that's all i'd need." he grinned. "who needs the public? we live in an autocracy."

he didn't actually mind rats that much, so long as they kept their distance. it was the gall of the ones that he had experienced in new york that bothered them. the fact that they seemed to know that they ran the city and had it wrapped around their little talons. "maybe it's already happening. some politicians, you could probably unzip their skin and find that they're actually just a ton of rats controlling a body." he paused, eyes widening as though he had realised something immense. "political ratatouille." a puff of air. "that's - that's big. that's news." starting to sound a little like his beloved basement-dwelling conspiracy theorists, now. "will you be able to cope being somewhere that's not overrun by rats? it'll be a shock to the system, i imagine." he chuckled.

though the laugh that escaped her was torn, frayed at the edges, it was something nevertheless. it was the goal of all goals, being able to snicker when everything came crashing. sharp, but manageable. something good that had come out of the mess - there was light at the end of the tunnel, it was trying to see it through the eclipsing and surprising dark. "i liked thing two," he said. "sorry. thing two, or thing a, super thing, thing king, kid dynamite, chocolate thun-dah, or..." a pause. "well, whatever you called him, he was a legend." a little quieter, some of the punch out of the already dulled words. "i can't imagine you being scared of anything." the cat in the hat had been his humour to a tee. he truly believed that it had shaped him as a human being, altered his brain chemistry just enough to form what he was in that moment. "am i keeping you awake with cat in the hat commentary? it wouldn't be the first time it's happened. a very bad habit. tell me to shut up whenever you want."

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ⊕
x──────i ii vulcan, chimera. iii sixteen. iiii tags: minty. ivi home.

everything had been as awful as it could have been and then it had gotten worse.

to break it down into its parts: a departure; an arrival; a bizarre news story; a funeral; a reception; goodbyes; a teary dinner; an iris message from a horse man that interrupted a conversation held in hushed tones; a scream; and a scream; and a scream; and a scream.
orin apparently had a different idea of saying goodbye to their grandmother than they had. he seemed to want to do it a little more directly.

aisling, oddly, felt rather calm. it was almost funny, the timing of it all. her grandmother was dead and her brother was dead and she was left trying to shove the shattered porcelain back into place until it resembled the teacup before it had been dropped. none of the pieces of the puzzle matched up with one another. she was suspended in a state of unbeing, her own shadow more emotive than she could have ever managed to have been.
they had a flight booked. it was only ever meant to be a short trip home. funny - they hadn't wanted to leave for too long. funny - they had worried about the potential consequences of leaving him on his own across an ocean. funny - everything they had feared had come to fruition, and she was still planning on returning anyway, because there was no chance she was going to allow him to be dead in a country devoid of family. he had died on his own, in her head. he was not going to be dead on his own.
it didn't make much sense. it didn't need to. nothing made sense. nothing in the mess of all that had occurred over the past couple of days had made any sense. she had run out of tears. there was a hole in the pit of her stomach as she walked from her home, through the impossibly dark streets, toward a building that thumped with music, that seemed to pour people from every direction.

"oh my god, aisling, i didn't recognise you! hi!" screeched a voice from the doorway. "sean, aisling's here!"
a beaming face cut off the light that spilt into the street. when he laid eyes on her, his toothy grin became something far more sober, more lucid. he pushed the girl back into the house, stepped out, shut the door behind him.
"saint. god, do bad hair choices run in the -" he cut himself off, swore under his breath. "how was the funeral?"
"boring," she answered. "everyone was crying. the music was crap."
"do you wanna come inside? i can - i mean, i don't -" he took a breath in. "are you alright?"
"yeah. leaving in a bit," she said, shoving her tongue against her inner cheek. "you know, we were only meant to be here for a while. i'm going back on my own. mam's busy. things to sort out. flight's in a few hours. i just thought i'd drop by to let you know he's died."
he took a moment to process. she watched it happen. the penny dropping, falling, spiralling through the air like a meteor, and then hitting the ground, steaming and burning. "what?"
"you need to clean your ears or something?" she sniffled. it didn't fit the cold exterior. "he's dead. he's died. earlier today. he died. he's dead, orin's dead. orin is dead. my nana is dead and so is my brother and i'm - i'm fine. don't -" he had stepped forward. she stepped back. "don't touch me, it's fine! i'm fine, everything's fine. well, not for him. he's not fine, he's dead. not fine for him. or maybe - maybe more fine. never told me what -" her throat closed up.
minty knew the modus operandi of the gormans. grabbed her shoulders regardless of her complaints and looked her in the face. it was odd - he didn't look shocked, or sad, or angry, he looked confused. "when?"
"i don't - why would i know when? today. few hours ago. i don't -" she was trying very hard not to cry.
"that's not true," minty said. certain, not in denial. there was a thin line between the two - one deluded, masked by grief, the other fuelled by evidence that she had not been witness to. "that's not true. are you trying to - is this you taking the piss out of me? it's not funny, aisling."
"he's dead! i know it's not funny!" she broke into a scream.
and then he believed her. not the words she was saying, but her. "saint, i spoke to him an hour ago,"
"no you didn't," she heaved.
"bea!" he shouted in the direction of the window. a face appeared at it. "you heard lofty's voice, didn't you? in the toilet, before dani -"
"yeah. before she spewed," and that was her gone again. short and to the point.
he turned back to aisling. she was baffled. "he can't have died a few hours ago. i spoke to him an hour ago." he reached for the memory, caught it in the haze. "said he wanted to talk to me. i was -" minty frowned, apparently coming to a dozen conclusions at once. "hang on - no, he was - he looked kind of, i thought - i asked, but he - his hair was..." she had no idea what he was talking about, but he believed her. she could see that. he believed she had been told that he was dead. and there was no reason that anyone would lie - no reason that she would believe it if it wasn't certain to be true, if the source wasn't infallible. "what if he - you know, what if... i mean, it's not implausible. there're - he could've... maybe we're both right. he said he wanted to tell me something. that's - i mean..."

aisling's face shifted from its bereft horror to something stony, detached. "you think he died and came back to life," she didn't intend to sound like she gave weight to the claims, but she did. a deep breath. "right." she stepped away. made her way back toward the drive. "if you're lying to me, i will make you into a scarf, do you hear me? if even an syllable of what you have just told me is not true, i will come back here and tear you to bits with my bare hands. do you understand that, sean?"
"saint, where're you -"
"i've got a plane to catch. but - but if he calls, and he's alive, and if he tells you, you let me know. i don't care if you have to buy one of those planes that streak messages into the clouds, you find a way to tell me. i mean - he won't. 'cause he's a moron. and he's selfish. and i hate him," she paused. "and i'm gonna go and find him and tell him that. and i'm gonna kill him, just to see if he dares come back to life again, the horrible, awful -" her heart wasn't in the words, which annoyed her, so she kicked a bin over. "i'll give him your love. after i get to that sweaty camp, but before i kick his head in."
"how're you gonna - that camp, it's not -" minty paused. "he said we wouldn't be able to get in."
"i'll figure it out. smash my way in if i have to." she always did. "i'll see you soon. with answers. or his head on a plate. either fits."

back down the road she came, but this time, her feet were not made heavy by the faded haze of oncoming grief, but of the storm that was yet to besiege the other side of the atlantic.

[indigo']

━━━ 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬

[✩]17|she/her|Hades|Head Counsellor|Cabin Thirteen|tags: Orin

“Could be,” she replied, genuinely considering the idea. “Kind of stupid if it is though. If I was him I just wouldn’t have gotten caught. He’s a god, how hard could that be?” A level of blasphemy that would turn Mr. D’s face purple. The only part of it she regretted was that he wasn’t there to hear her. She had a skill for irritating the wine god, likely related to an older incident he still held a grudge about, but she liked to utilize it at every chance she got.

“Yeah, absolutely,” she said with the sincerity of someone humouring a five year old who claimed they could fly. “I bet they’d kick you out within a week. Because they couldn’t handle your genius,” she added. Who needs the public? was a question she tended to live by, though maybe in a different context. “My opinions tend to be more correct than anyone else's anyways so…” She shrugged. That was entirely not true in her mind, but she trusted her muppet related political views at the very least.

She snorted at the wide-eyed revelation, the act as if he’d just uncovered something profound, but Auggie nodded anyway. “Could be. Some of them have very rat-like features already. Beady little eyes. Seems like something a rat would design.” She smiled. “Maybe you can tell Buzz about that next time you hang out. See if he still wants to brag about the moon after that.” The following question had the expression of false solemnity returning, letting out a tiny sigh. “I mean, it’ll be difficult. I’ll miss them, you know?” It wasn’t like she’d actually really been out in New York much the last five years, and Camp didn’t have so many rats as other, worse things. Though she wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of the Hermes kids were a horde of rats in a human suit.

The ebb and flow of their conversations was becoming a familiar pattern, letting the difficult moments exist, the pain coming out when it needed to, but then gently moving away, diverting to something softer in a way that made it all a lot easier to cope with. Despite the comments made teasing Orin for how much he talked, he was undeniably good at turning something like that around. “Why do you have that memorized?” she laughed, though the sound was a little dull, softer in the wake of the previous moment. “I’m not,” she replied, the hardened tone returning--or some forced pantomime of it. “Just used to be.” That was a lie, but she wasn’t really trying to convince him it wasn’t. It was fairly obvious she was afraid of things, scarier things than an anthropomorphic cat, most of which had been a reality within the last few hours. “No, you’re fine,” she replied with a smile. “There’s worse habits.” She’d had enough silence in the few hours that he’d been gone, enough of voices she didn’t want to hear saying words she wasn’t going to listen to. She wasn’t ever going to tell him to shut up.

━━━ 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

[✿]16|he/him|Iris|Hampton Inn, room 204|tags: Aiden

“You will.” Despite Jamie’s inherent uncertainty with most things, he sounded sure in his optimism that Aiden would find his answers. Maybe it wouldn’t be anytime soon, but things would work out eventually. He wanted that for the son of Athena, and he firmly believed it would happen. He frowned at the comment on Athena, absently picking at a frayed hem on his pyjama pants. “Well...you are. You probably all are.” He looked up, gave a weak smile. “So you’ll figure it out. Things don’t usually make sense right away. You just gotta have faith that you’ll get there eventually, and that it’ll be worth the wait.” He was repeating something that had been told to him a long time ago in an entirely different context, but setting aside the sting of nostalgia, it still applied. He nodded, letting out a breathy, nervous laugh at the idea of going on another quest. “Yeah...same. I barely wanted to go on this one.” That probably wasn’t the best thing to admit while in the middle of it. “Er...not...I mean, at first. I’m full in now. I was just nervous before...you know?” He was digging himself a hole as usual. He was relieved when Aiden suggested they get some sleep, nodding as he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “What, you’re saying you don’t want to carry me up the side of the mountain?” he asked with a shaky grin, an attempt at humour to gloss over how nervous he still was. He wasn’t sure he actually would be able to sleep with the whirring current of dread in his stomach, but he had no better option than to at least try.

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: auggie auggie auggie.
ivicabin thirteen.

"i mean, the ones slating him were also gods, so the whole 'omniscience' gig really blighted him," as though it was some kind of police taskforce, something normalised in the worlds of myth and higher powers. "you gotta question how any of them keep any secrets from each other. unless their - their further knowledge only extends to mortals. in which case, yeah. what a loser. shouldn't have let himself get caught." conversely to auggie, he was a little tentative about going in on mr. d. where she and him had had their fair share of troubles, orin's own experience had been vastly different, a moment of clarity in a hazy mess that had accumulated as a tin left on the porch of the big house - the thought of which giving him a little, brief shudder. gone. hopefully to return.

he nodded along with the humouring tone. if he noticed that it wasn't genuine, he didn't purvey it. "some people, they just can't appreciate it. they don't like seeing others succeed. they can only compliment the people that they think are below them. of course they're going to be against me. i'm the pinnacle. but i don't let it bother me. would michelangelo have allowed some pleb tell him that his dimensions were a bit awry on the ceiling of the vatican? no. he knew he was above 'em." he paused. "he would've listened to what i'd had to say, though. equals." the conclusion was made. he wasn't a child of iris because he was simply better than them. that felt like some manner of heresy. if he was going to be struck down, though, a rainbow beam felt like a cool way to go. "at the end of the day, you should be the final say on all decisions. on everything. no matter the context. the final 'tick'."

something he detested more than the thought of mutant rats with their pizza cargo was the thought of an amalgamation of many controlling the laws of a land. it made his skin feel tight, too close to his bones. uncomfortable. "they've been right under our noses. rewriting constitutions to fit their ideals. that's why the rats have rights here. it's all been part of their master plan." the mere thought was bone-chilling. "buzz'll be right on it. whole reason he went to the moon, he told me, 'orin, i didn't want the press, i wasn't interested in the fame, i just wanted to go somewhere without a single rat politician within a three-hundred-eighty-four thousand mile radius'. it's what he told me. you don't have to believe it. it won't make it any less true." he drawled, the somberness of the separation from the rodents certainly considered. "i'm sure you'll learn to live without them. they've just got you in their grips, is all. they want you to think that you're nothing without them. it's all part of the plan."

normally, he would have been able to put the reason for his rote-learning of thing two's alternate names down to something he just knew, but for once, he did have a reason. explaining that made it easier to ignore the one he had neglected, so he launched into it. "went to these - these clubs before school, when i was little. it was for working parents, so they could drop their kid off and then scurry to work. and to shut us up, they put a film on. but they only had the cat in the hat, shark tale, and night at the museum. so they'd just sort of repeat 'em," he explained. "it would've been fine, except one of the kids developed a fear of dinosaurs, so night at the museum was out, and then someone else decided they were scared of sharks, so shark tale was chopped, and it just ended up being the cat in the hat. every day. i could spout the script of it to you. it's my worst trait." he laughed at the thought. if anything, he thought the cat in the hat was a note scarier than shark tale, but that hadn't been considered by the tired, busy teachers who ran the club. "if you're still scared of it, you better let me know before i start performing my one-man show." he goaded. it would be quite a world if all they had to fear was mike myers in torturous costuming. "i could start now. it could be like a bedtime story. there are gajillions of stories of mischief and fun, but to keep things simple, let's start with just one..." two birds with one stone. or maybe neither. he didn't imagine it was good sleep fuel. "i can't do the voices. my budget doesn't stretch to voices."