Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[rabbit_with_a_fedora]

✵ 𝐋 𝐀 𝐈 𝐊 𝐀--𝐊 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐆 𝐄 𝐑
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❨ Mountie, Canadian navy admiral, hunter of Artemis ❩ ❨ lieutenant ❩ ❨ ♀/25 years/lived 97 ❩ ❨ daughter of Pluto ❩ ❨ tags: Juliet, Orin❩ ©



Laika had been limping back towards the ruins of the big house when a voice called from behind her. “Hey Mufasa! What was it you said earlier about being an idiot!? 'Cause I think you're breaking your own orders!" Laika sighed, though she regretted it after; she had been taking short, shallow breaths, and the irregular outburst had sent her down a dizzying spiral. She turned her head with some trouble and saw one of the Mercury, no, Hermes, campers standing and yelling at her. Insolent, she hissed internally, doing nothing and preventing others from actually helping. Struggling, she managed to transform back into her human form, her coat turning a darker scarlet with her seeping blood. “Oh jee, I really wish I didn’t have to be doing something so foolish and suicidal. I would love to stay warm and safe in a golden cabin, but that’d only be possible if certain humans would, ah, actually help. Perhaps you’d like to go in and save the people you’ve grown up with for years, who would not hesitate to save you in return?” Laika knew this camper wouldn’t, she seemed to be of good health and strong enough to, but she had chosen not to risk her own life at the first call, so why now? Suddenly, another pang of death shook her; another camper had breathed their last breath.

Her eyes steeled as they glared into those of the camper. “In the time you took to stop me, another camper has just died. Worse yet, they were a child of Hermes.” Without another word, she slinked back into her lion form and dashed into the building, though stopping as soon as she was out of the camper’s sight to rest her injured arm.

She smelled blood in the air, and she felt her heart clench as she imagined the grisly death the person of who’s blood this was would, or had, suffered. Then, she realized it was her own, from her last excursion into the ruined building.

Now, Laika’s main powers wouldn’t do her much good. There was little to no metal left in the structure of the big house, and her detection of life and death was the only thing she could depend on. Locating the campers was easy, getting to them was harder.

Laika was frantically climbing over piles of rubble when she sensed a life force nearby. It was strong, a bit terrified but still moving about quickly. This survivor didn’t seem hurt at all, which was a miracle. They seemed to be running, and she thrust herself over the last pile of wood, leaving deep scratches on her flank. A camper who she actually recognized was standing there, gawking at her. This was the son of Zeus, Orin Gorman, head counselor extraordinaire. He opened his mouth, and before Laika could react, hurled a spiel of rambling at her. “Are you alright? Who are you? Aw, have i died? Is this what it's like to die? seeing lions and that where there are - where there are no lions?"

Laika just about stopped herself from sighing. She leapt onto a pile of wood, and transformed back into her human form. There was no time for formal introductions, so Laika simply said “Orin, I’m Laika Krieger, lieutenant of Artemis and late WWII admiral. No, I am not alright, though why you must ask that question when its answer is obvious is a mystery. And no, you are not dead. For, if you were, I’d be dragging your body out, which I am not doing, am I?” Them meeting may have been the miracle the other survivors were hoping for. With Laika’s ability to detect death and life, they would have a clear idea of which way to head. Orin’s control of the wind would keep them alive. That is, for the moment. “Now come on, Thunder boy, we’ve got survivors to find. I’ll point out the directions, and you can clear the way. If it’s a dead body, I’ll flick an ear. If they are alive, I won’t. This way, we’ll get to the others faster. Now, if you would excuse me, I might die on you if I don’t turn back into a lion.”

Laika leapt deftly from the pile, changing into a lion on the way down. She tested her injured shoulder; it trembled as hard as the big house when pressure was put on it. No worries, Laika could keep on going until the danger had passed, the mission had succeeded or failed. Either way, she would live or die, so why give up in the middle?

She concentrated, head held high as if she were smelling the air for scents, which, in a way, she was. Soon, she detected an aura. Laika closed her piercing gray eyes and immediately felt a rush of death pour over her. She flicked an ear and didn’t look back to see Orin’s reaction. Limping forwards, she lead the son of Zeus up the dusty stairs until a rumble filled the room with dust, and the beams creaked and cracked, their split ends lowering towards the two demigods menacingly. Laika stepped back, letting Thunder Boy do his thing.

This crisis, this disaster, was just like any other. Except perhaps that the mission was usually to intercept the enemy, to destroy them, and it didn’t matter how many men you lost on the way. This time, the mission was to save as many as possible. And Laika seemed to be failing at this one as much as she had succeeded in the others. Just keep going, back and forth, in and out, just get everyone out, you don’t have all the time in the world...

Was she really that bad at valuing individual lives?

[sammy,]

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𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚜
dining pavilion
thanatos
mentioned: aiden
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as the attack appeared to continue, it became clearer and clearer what was going on. panic seeped into aiden's expression, only seeming to double in size with each passing second. and it was reasonable - the bodies outside of the big house were piling up, added to and added to by those who steamed ahead into the collapsing building and retrieved limp, pallid campers. teilo certainly didn't to use his second sense for these things to understand that they weren't simply unconscious.
in other cases, it would have been a simple scenario - making him realise that the circumstances they were in were not as bad as the fight or flight system ingrained in his skull were not as bad as they seemed, that things weren't coming to a shocking, heartbreaking end (or a more shocking, frightening start). but that was not the scene they were in. things were bad, and aiden was responding as any normal person would have been, and there was nowhere to go from here that didn't minimise the impact that the vision in front of them had.

so he settled for what he knew. sat down in front of aiden, hopefully blocking the view of the building, and clasped his hands over the trembling son of athena's. "i know," he said softly, keeping as calm as he possibly could. "i know, pal. it's not alright. none of it's alright. but this is it, isn't it? this is what we do it for, yeah? there are going to be tragedies. there's going to be panic and there's going to be fear and none of it's fair. none of it's ever fair, but all you need to do right now is breathe." he searched for something in his face that suggested that aiden was listening to him. "all this, all of it, it's horrific, and it's awful, but you've got to breathe for me, right? you're alright. things will be alright. it's going to hurt like hell. it's going to bash your skull in, but right now, the only thing we're focusing on is you breathing. that's what we're going to look at. everything's out of control, but this is something we can control." he shut his eyes tight, searched for the words to say that would do something, do anything that would make the weight a little less. he couldn't find them., but he'd seen this paralysis before. maybe that would serve as enough.

"listen to me. just me. there's snow under you, do you feel it? it's cold. and you've hurt your hands a bit. focus on that. we can fix that. there's a song, right? an old song that we used to have to sing in primary. every eisteddfod - it was like a - like a festival of the arts. and our little primary, our little class, we'd go, and we'd have a little jolly sing. sosban fach. it means little saucepan. are you breathing? keep doing that, i know you're probably waiting to see where i'm going with this, but don't keep it bated too long," a strained smile. "the original verse - it's a bit ... my memory's shoddy at the best of times, but it goes something like - pan fyddo yr aelwyd yn oeri, a'r anwyd yn dyfod o'r gwaed, pan fyddo y trwyn bron a rhewi - and i don't know the middle bit, but then it goes rhowch broc i'r tân, a chanwch gân i gadw'r cwerylon o'r aelwyd lân. and that's - that translates to, uh.. give me a minute." he ran it over in his head. "when the hearth cools, and the blood runs cold, when the nose is almost freezing - hold for the middle bit - put wood on the fire, and sing a song, to keep quarrels away from the fair hearth. you can breathe now. you can. we'll be alright. you, you'll be alright, aiden. promise. just gotta keep breathing. what you're feeling in there, it's right. you should feel it, but you take it. you grab it in your hands and you say 'no one is ever going to feel like this again. not on my watch. not while i'm about'. you've done a good job of that so far, so keep doing it. we'll be okay."

-

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𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 '𝚕𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚢' 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗
big house
zeus - counselor
mentioned: laika
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the lion in front of him transformed into that of a woman - a woman who then began to introduce herself, letting out piles of information that was, frankly, going a bit over his head. she knew his name, though, and he wasn't quite sure how happy he was about such a fact. laika - there was a name to the face and the mane (or lack thereof). a late world war two admiral, which meant -
a hunter. immortal. of course she was in here, scurrying about. no battle to get blasted in, no problem. he nodded slowly, panic becoming understanding. "listen, i'm not gonna besmirch the underworld for being unrealistic, am i? i dunno what's gonna be my seven-minute rerun of my entire life," it didn't seem the time to rise to a challenge. his heart wasn't in it anyway - there was no point. the 'thunder boy' mention, however, that was a different story. this was not starting off on an amicable foot. "yes ma'am." he said with only a hint of contempt. "you can't die, can you? this isn't a battle. is this a battle? it's a house falling down. you've probably had bombs in your day. what's a wee house?"

despite his concerns and a minor twinge of annoyance, there were bigger things to be getting on with. orin followed laika, now a lion once more, traipsing through the rubble and over the obstacles of the shattered beams.
funny, how one didn't quite realise how 'big' a house was until they were trying to find the bodies hidden in the remains of it.

up the creaking stairs, whose complaints seemed little more than dust in the wind compared to the groaning supports, and through hallways that looked like they had been bombed - not just collapsed. it was frightening. not in the way that he knew - not the terror that invoked action, quick thinking, such as what would be seen in the wake of a monster who lusted for the taste of his blood, but utter fear. the events that had led to this were gone, separated. just as soon as he had collapsed in on himself, he had forgotten the reasons why.
the joke about being dead seemed a bit raw, in retrospect.

but there was a time for grieving and there was a time for movement, and this was certainly the latter. not so soon after he came to this conclusion, laika's ear flicked. another death. he recognised this one. one of apollo's girls, the sunshine drained from her. another stab to the heart, another bundled body cradled in his arms that felt too light. tears did threaten his eyes, but none came to fall. "how many left? can you feel that?" he asked, changing the manner in which he held the girl. "jesus," the pain in his head was somehow doubling and yet simultaneously falling into the background of things. another thing to deal with later. "i'm taking her out."

and that he did. the rigmarole continued. laid out in a line, the failed rescues, the souls that should have been so much more, out on the snow. in the light of the moon, their skin looked blue. some of them were still wearing their armour. a weight on his chest that wouldn't let up -
but back in he went. "laika? any more?" he called. "are you good?"

-

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𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗
new york
proxy of eris
mentioned: nicholas
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the smile on malcolm's face shouldn't have had the capacity to grow any wider, but as a gentle noise that sounded like a word of disgruntlement at his not-so-slyly dropped knowledge, he had to hold back a cackle. that was a point to him. this was going almost beautifully. the lights of new york were slowly beginning to turn off as the people resigned to the newfound winter of their discontent.

he pursed his lips as nicholas began to speak again, nodding as though he could see him. he might well have been able to - the extent of his knowledge only reached to what was granted of him, enough that it could get the man on the other line to speak - and speak he did. "well, i was actually hoping that you would get me in contact with the other god." he joked, taking a lighthearted approach to the whole debacle. "very on the nose, isn't it? suppose you wouldn't get a horseman with a name like jeremy." he shook his head. "i trust my sources. what can i say? the stakes are high." the reference to him being heinous made him chuckle. "is that flirtation? you flatter me."

malcolm took the liberty to take a slow, meandering stroll through the room, pacing as he weighed the thoughts rushing through his mind. they came at a speed that was comparable to lightning, plots and schemes falling into place - names and faces and lines of speech. all of them gorgeous in their own right, all of them becoming something greater than proposition. the morning loomed. it was to be a beautiful day.

"not a slice of your pie, that makes me sound greedy," he replied, sitting down leisurely and resting his right heel atop his left knee. "a supportive role. i like it. washes the hands, doesn't it? you're just the lackey, is that right? i would hold yourself to a higher standard. a man with the role of 'horseman of the apocalypse' does not sound the type to act as a player on the sidelines." he shook his head, shrugged. "unless there was something else you got from it. but that's just theory. hypothesis - i'm awful for it." another pause. "i won't pretend to know the ins and outs of your roles. i'm a busy man. i'm working beyond my remit here. but we're both - i don't want to assume here - we're both ambitious. and i think your ambitions fall in line with mine. this isn't a case of me weaseling my way into your plans, great or small as they may be, but rather... an offer. i'm prepared to scratch your back if you'll scratch mine, if you'll pardon the idiom. a diversion of attention, say. a prevention of certain parties who would be trying to stop you and your queen of diamonds from effectuating your goals. i'm booked for a press conference tomorrow, you see. a hectic life to lead. meeting after meeting, soulless sack after soulless sack - but i think... it'll be of interest."

"eris," he finally said. "your aunt, i would assume, if we forgive the technicalities. call it a family business. we have a very close relationship." a sharp, short breath in. "i'll leave it with you. no need to make decisions on the fly, that's not how we do things. just keep it in mind. you've got my personal number now. there are people who would pay a pretty penny for that. tune in. lend me your ears. i'll wait for your call. the ball is in your court. i hope you handle it with care." he cracked his neck. "i won't have the effrontery to assume your decision, but know that i am hopeful for symbiosis."

[FerretMonarch]

|Draco Eqquum-magno|19|Draft Centaur|He/him|Gay|The late Pan|Location: The bighouse|Tags: Auggie, Hank|

Draco took a deep breath as he helped hoist himself out of the hole.

"I'm sorry." He gasped as he finally got out.
"I didn't think I was going to loose it like that." Draco was whispering as well as he could with being in pain before freezing up when he heard the boards above them creak.

"Okay, yep, lets go great idea. Miss I don't actually know your name sorry." Draco said his words running together.

Draco grabbed Hank putting the camper on his left shoulder and keeping a hand on the small of his back.

"Are ya okay to walk?" Draco asked getting up and leaning heavily on his left side.

"No time ah'm carrying ya." Draco said hearing the boards creak just a bit too much for comfort.

Draco grabbed the girl and placed her on his other shoulder before limping out of the house.

"Ah should be sorry, but ah'm not." Draco said while putting the girl down and handing Hank to a random camper to take to the Apollo camper.

"Are ya a'ight?" Draco asked the girl.
Draco sat down on the grass and took off his prosthetic leg, turning into his centaur form and bandaging up his leg.

[WitchHazel]

|Mirabelle Everhart|17|She/Her|Aphrodite|Head Counselor|Location: Cabin 10|Tags: Ophelia|

Through the haze of dizziness, Mirabelle felt a touch on her shoulders. The words "sit down" rang through the air like a command. Even if they sounded like they were underwater, her brain managed to process what they meant. A protest rose to the surface, but she choked it back down knowing it would only be futile. Instead, she simply sat herself back down on Ophelia's bed, practically collapsing atop the soft surface. If anything, that was a true testament to how horrid she'd started feeling in that moment.
She couldn't tell if it was the slight difference in temperature from the warm blankets to the cabin air, or the general shakiness of her limbs, but she was shivering again. Nowhere near as much as she had before, but still enough to arouse suspicion that maybe she wasn't feeling one-hundred percent. In addition, pieces of her excursions during Capture the Flag were starting to come back to her. She recalled joining a group of campers to cross the river into enemy territory. She'd gotten distracted somehow - by what, she didn't know. The next thing she remembered was the shock of cold water hitting her body, and losing her helmet in some means. She knew she managed to get herself onto the opposite bank somehow, but then... it was just flashes of white. And the image of her mom...? Wow. Maybe I'm delirious. The prospect of seeing Aphrodite in any circumstance was just so outlandish a thought. The closest thing she'd ever had to communication with her was the fact that she'd left Rhódon as a means of protection. That must've been when she'd delivered her to her father, however that had happened. "Your mother gave this to me when you were a baby," he'd said, handing her a bronze tube of lipstick. "She told me to tell you - if you ever find yourself in mortal danger, take off the cap. But only then."
Gods, all this thinking was just making her headache worse. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb, gently massaging the area in hopes of lessening the discomfort. At least she didn't feel like she was going to pass out anymore. Nonetheless, exasperation boiled inside her like water bubbling up under a pot lid. I hate this. The sense of helplessness was just so frustrating that she could almost cry. She was the one who took care of everyone else - not the other way around.

|Juliet Pratten|16|She/Her|Hermes|Location: Outside Big House|Tags: Big House Gang, Cass, Laika|

"Me!? Risk my skin for some lady I barely know?" Juliet snorted in response to Cass' suggestion. "Yeah. No chance in Tartarus." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking rather smug for someone who was looking through debris to form a support. Her tune was quickly changed, however, as the Lion Lady started sassing her out. She couldn't deny that it was called for, but still - the words sliced her more than any blade could ever. "Uh, we are helping?" she snapped back. "Trying to build a support, like you said." She rolled her eyes, though the typical humour in her face was gone.
Juliet froze at the mention of one of her cabinmates dying. "What did you say?" she hissed. This changed things. Sure, she wasn't about to risk her life for just anyone. But a cabinmate?
The thought crossed her mind that it could be a lie, but she quickly discounted this. It would be incredibly cruel to make such a joke, especially given the crisis situation. "You know what? Screw it. I'm going in." Whether it was out of concern for her fellow campers or a foolish need to prove herself, Juliet followed through on her word. Anger fueled her as she shrugged off Cass' arm and charged into the fray.


|Chuck Oakes|He/Him|Satyr|Location: Outside Big House|Tags: Big House Gang, Open|

In his haste to reach the Big House - or what was left of it - Chuck nearly slipped on the ice near Euros creek. He managed to catch his balance, though the medical supplies he carried certainly caused him some trouble in that department. When he righted himself, he continued on his way, charging up the hill as best he could without sliding on the snow.
As he crested the hill, the full destruction became apparent. The creaking beams, the panicked screams, the hurried chatter - all were too much for his sensitive hearing to take. The salty tang of blood hit his nose. His heart pounded out of his chest. Gods, the world was spinning. He couldn't breathe.
What was happening?
This had to be a dream. None of this was real. Yeah, sure enough he would wake up in the warm grass and everything would be okay, right? Just a terrible, terrible nightmare. Yeah, that was it.
So why wasn't he waking up?
The medical supplies he'd been carrying lay discarded in the snow beside him. A tiny voice in his head told him he had to keep going, to see who needed help, but he was frozen. His chest felt tight, and he knew he was hyperventilating. But what could he possibly do? There's like... so much destruction. His widened eyes filled with tears. He was vaguely aware of the hot prickling sensation as they ran down his freckled cheeks in rivulets. So many injured. So many we couldn't save.
Through the panic, one question came to the forefront of his mind.
Where was Chiron in all this?
Last he'd seen the centaur, he had been cantering off into the woods to look for missing campers. But now... they needed him here. More than anything.

(I'll write for him later ahdgfh)

[rabbit_with_a_fedora]

✵ 𝐋 𝐀 𝐈 𝐊 𝐀--𝐊 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐆 𝐄 𝐑
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❨ Mountie, Canadian navy admiral, hunter of Artemis ❩ ❨ lieutenant ❩ ❨ ♀/25 years/lived 97 ❩ ❨ daughter of Pluto ❩ ❨ tags: Orin❩ ©



"you can't die, can you? this isn't a battle. is this a battle? it's a house falling down. you've probably had bombs in your day. what's a wee house?" came the voice of Orin. For heaven or hell, Laika, don’t you dare sigh. “Hold your tongue, son, unless you’ve got the facts straight,” Laika said, as she turned back into a human for a brief while. “Haven’t you a mind beyond the surface? Sure I may not die, but really, there are worse things than death. If the house falls on me, that’s it, I’m done. While you die quickly in 3 seconds of fear, I’ve got to face years of scars, pain and disability. I’m not exactly going to come out unscathed; I assume my right shoulder’s just going to get weaker and weaker.

And don’t you disrespect a battlefield, little man. If you belittle the value of a battle, you belittle your chances to survive. Is this a battle? Life is a battle. What’s a wee house? It might as well be our graveyard.

Now come on, enough squabbling. There are things to be done. ”

And with that, Laika changed back into a lioness, her pelt stained with bright blood. Finding the daughter of Apollo was really the start to their worries. As Orin hurried away clutching the girl’s body, Laika found herself impatient at thei rate of improvement. “You can’t keep taking the bodies out than coming back in; you’ll be tired after 3 more laps. Here, this place seems to be the most stable place in the house. Let’s keep the campers here until we’ve scoured this mess. I know it’s not the most humane thing, calculating efficiency over carrying bodies, but in honesty it’s our only real chance. Unless you’ve got a a secret A-bomb up your sleeve, one that could save us all.” she said, brow furrowed in pain. “And yes, there are more. Many more. Some alive, some barely scraping away from Death’s door, some caught in the webs of disaster, and killed by the spider.” By now, her lion form wasn’t doing much good of dulling the pain and dizziness, so Laika just stayed human. The frequent transformations hurt her even more, to be frank.

Suddenly, a loud rumbling. It stopped as quickly as it came, but Laika’s hand immediately gripped her pistol on her belt. The sound was stronger than ever, and that could only mean one thing. “Oh heaven or hell, another part of the roof, no, the floor, will collapse soon. And based on the distance, it can be assumed that - oh hell. The roof’s collapsing here, we better get away, and fast. There’s no time to get any others, all in proximity are dead.” And all at once, dust began to fall from the ceiling, and then pieces of wood followed. A nearby column started to creak, and, instinctively, Laika shoved herself and Orin out of its path.

After the dust settled, Laika looked around, and saw how lucky they were to be alive at the time. Almost everything was demolished, gone, except the spot where she and the son of Zeus were standing, which was in front of a doorway. “Turns out that the collapsing roof of this part of the building shook the foundations of other parts, and, it isn’t pretty. I think someone else has died, though I can’t quite place their descendency, it’s all a blur to me right now.”

“If you’re going through hell, then keep going,” an associate of Laika had once said. And that’s exactly what she did.

[tawneypelt0504]

Cassandra Peters|19|Hermes/Cabin 11|Head Counselor|Loc:outside the big house|Tags/Mentions:Juliet,Laika,big house group
Cass sighed and shook her head slightly exasperated in response to Jules's statement knowing very well she cared at least enough to help with the support structure. Cass remained silent during the exchange with the lion lady she wasn't quite sure how to respond and she didn't want to get sassed as well. Cass immediately tensed hearing about the death of a Hermes camper her eyes widened in shock and tears began to prick her eyes and she brought a hand up to her face. Even though she knew that there had been others who died but the death of one of her siblings hit the hardest. She quickly shook herself out of her shock when she felt Juliet shake off her arm and run off into the Big House to help. "Jules wait up"Cass called out to her sister cursing under her breath before running to catch up with her wayward half-sister determined to not lose another sibling or another camper.

[indigo']

Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Big House|tags:Hank, Draco

Auggie let out a breath of relief when they finally got the centaur out of the floor, but the moment of respite didn’t last long. The house was still creaking and it wasn’t safe to stay put. She barely had half a second to respond to the centaur before both she and Hank were being hoisted over his shoulders and hauled outside like a couple of infants. She was set down on the ground and she gritted her teeth, fighting every urge in her body to pull out her knives and show the centaur what happened to people who disrespected her or bruised her ego. Then he was asking if she was alright, apparently not noticing the indignation and anger with which she had received being picked up and carried.

She plastered on a phoney smile that didn’t reach her eyes, which glittered dangerously as she stared down the centaur. “I’m fine,” She said, her voice several pitches higher than usual and dripping with false sweetness that somehow made it sound much more menacing. “But if you ever do that again you’re going to need prosthetic horse legs too.” Her expression dropped into a hardened glare and she turned around without waiting for the boy to respond, whatever he had to say for himself she did not want to hear it. Her eyes scanned the snow covered lawn in front of the Big House, searching for anyone who may need her help.

She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but she’d gotten a fairly deep cut on her arm climbing through the broken window to get out of the house. She’d been too distracted to feel it then, but now the wound was starting to sting, blood seeping through the black fabric of her ripped hoodie, staining the dark fabric even darker.

[sammy,]

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𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 '𝚕𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚢' 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗
big house
zeus - counselor
mentioned: laika
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as laika rained down fresh hell upon him, orin's eyebrow inched further and further up his forehead, a storm brewing behind his skull. he was becoming rather ill of being spoken down to - especially in a scenario like this, with a woman he didn't know, after the news he had received earlier in the day. he took a slow step forward after she finished speaking. "are you done?" he asked. "'cos you can keep talking about, you know, how hard you've got it, how wrong i am, the value of a slaughter, but i'm gonna remind you of something." his jaw set. "kids have died." he looked around at the house for effect. "i don't know if that doesn't matter to you, if your ego is more important, but, you know. keep it in mind. shall we go?"

"i've done it for every one. i'm not gonna stop now," orin said. "they deserve enough respect to be taken out of the house that killed them." the prospect of there being more, many more, no less, made him inadvertently shudder. in a positive light, however, it was easier to speak to laika when she wasn't in the form of an apex land predator. "they deserve respect. they're children, they're not burdens. you can have your war plan and your 'efficient course', but i'll keep doing what i'm doing, thanks."

the rumbling of the house started and stopped. he was getting rather prepared to channel a wind tunnel, create a cushion of air that wouldn't allow the floor to cave in on them, but laika pushed him out of the way mid-breeze, leading orin to gracelessly tumble and slam the back of his head against the ground. "cheers for the warning," he said, sitting up and lifting himself with suddenly shaking legs. "find them," he said. "i don't care how you do it. none of them are being buried in house-rubble."

his hand erred to the back of his head, where thumping pain radiated, and he winced when he felt matted hair, stuck to his scalp by trickles of blood that had forced themselves out. at some point, that would probably be a concussion. a lump, at the very least. he was counting his lucky stars that it hadn't been worse. it would have been rather embarrassing to have passed out in front of the hunter.
there was a time for complaining, though, and now was not it. he wiped the dried blood on the sleeve of his shirt, already stained by the relentless onslaught of falling dust. he rather liked that shirt. it had been a gift from someone - he couldn't quite grasp who. just that it had been a gift, and now it was never going to be quite the same. it was now tainted by the history being born in it.

perhaps zeus would accept the shirt as a sacrifice. here, dad, the shirt i wore on one of the worst days of my life. do you like the pattern on it? it's little tintins. you ever watched tintin? see, i've always had a theory about tintin. aside from the funny face and the awful hair, he never had a girlfriend, did he? so i reckon that he was actually -

no. that certainly wasn't the best course of action. back to reality, he thought. and what a painful reality it was.

[rabbit_with_a_fedora]

✵ 𝐋 𝐀 𝐈 𝐊 𝐀--𝐊 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐆 𝐄 𝐑
────────────────────────────────────────────────────── ➸
❨ Mountie, Canadian navy admiral, hunter of Artemis ❩ ❨ lieutenant ❩ ❨ ♀/25 years/lived 97 ❩ ❨ daughter of Pluto ❩ ❨ tags: Orin❩ ©



“Look, enough talk about honor and respect. A body’s going to stay the same way, dead, if anything happens to it. But there’s still survivors in here, they’re still alive. Would you rather let others lose their lives, including your own, just to bring bodies out that could be brought out later? We’ve seen the house falling on us, it’s going to collapse one more time and that’s it, everyone’s dead.

Isn’t it more important to save the lives that can be save, save the ones we still have left, than to bring out the ones already lost to us?” In honesty, Laika was getting a bit tired of the talk of honor and respect. Sure, it was important, but there was a time and place to do things. The goal was to get everyone out alive, and they had failed, hadn’t they? Many were already lost, but at least some were still clinging on, waiting for her to rescue them. And if Orin was going to continue wasting his time with the hopeless, something that could be done later, then he might as well go do it. “Listen. If we were to give our lives to save the last person, the last remaining, I’d be happy. But there isn’t a last person, there’s so many still out there. And we can’t die before we get that last living person out.”

They could collect the bodies later. Lifting piles of wood and snow would be easier than avoiding piles of wood and snow. The Hecate and Zeus cabins would be able to rescue the bodies of the fallen after the whole house collapsed. It would save more lives that could be saved and it would be less suicidal than any form of reckless action Orin planned.

And with that said, Laika turned away, trying to pinpoint the next survivor. They were far, far, away, and were preceded by a line of deaths. That could only mean...

“Bad news. The roof collapsed even more than we thought. There are a few survivors left, but they’re on the other side of the big house. The others... well at least they went quick.” Laika turned to lead them to the nearest survivor, and waited for Orin to make up his mind.

[Kveykva]

──── Ａｉｄｅｎ Ｓｅａｖｅｒ
【✦】| Athena Head Counselor | 15 | Male | Dining Pavilion ➡ Big House | Tags: Teilo
❝𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚜❞

Breathe. If he heard nothing else, Aiden caught the one simple command, its repetition like a mantra in the moment. He took deep, panicked breaths, wracked by the never-ending onslaught of tears escaping his eyes. In reality, there was nothing Aiden could have done to help the campers inside; no amount of him running or shouting could have prevented the roof from falling in, and if he'd been any closer, he very well could have just been another statistic. Another casualty to the storm. Yet, he found it easier to lie; he found it easier to blame himself for not having done more, rather than accept the reality that there was nothing he could have done. He was helpless. Snow. He felt it. He gripped in his hands. His hands stung. Still, his eyes stung more. They burned, and the blistering winds only threatened to freeze his eyelids shut.

"Breathe."

The word was choked out through sobs, and he struggled to abide by the simple command. He didn't look up; he didn't dare look up. Aiden had seen the bodies, and even at this distance, he could recognize what a dead one looked like. "How..." He choked, swallowing more of his sobs in favor of asking a question. "How many didn't make it?" He didn't want to think about what the answer could be. But he needed to know.

──── Ｎｉｃｈｏｌａｓ Ｓｔｏｒｍ
【✦】| Horseman of the Apocalypse | 56 | Male | ➡ Final Witness Mortuary | Tags: Malcolm
❝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑❞

Nicholas sat in silence for the remainder of the call, quietly picking apart the conversations and the offer presented. The mention of Eris caused his hand to seize on the phone, but he showed no other signs of discomfort.

"Lend me your ears. I'll wait for your call."

Soon after, the conversation came to a close, and the horseman ended the call. He rested the smartphone on the desk beside him, head buried in his hands. "Eris has a damn proxy." He murmured, the already dark room only growing darker. Nicholas was livid; he could have gotten out of that conversation unscathed, but how was he supposed to know Malcolm's wisecracks were only skin deep? His divine aunt's domain gave her the knowledge to weasel her way into places she didn't belong, and his guess was that was the only reason she knew he had power over the Doors. His father purposely steered clear of Eris when Nicholas was with him, though the reason wasn't quite clear. If Nick had to guess, his position now was the cause. With a deep exhale, he folded his arms and bowed his head. "Looks like you're drawing attention, after all, Khione." He couldn't delay his departure to New York any longer.

Nicholas retrieved his phone from beside him, tapping in a familiar phone number and raising it to his ear. While he waited to give his message, he pondered the words of the mysterious proxy.

"I would hold yourself to a higher standard. A man with the role of 'horseman of the apocalypse' does not sound the type to act as a player on the sidelines."

A misinterpreted role was the one he played as a god. True, Nicholas had an immense amount of power. His position in the Abrahamic apocalypse led him to be outcasted by many of the other pantheons. Not that he blamed them; who would want to play poker with a god whose sole purpose was to destroy everything they worked so hard to create? He did find some level of amusement in the belief that some of them just simply pretended he didn't exist, as it made the reality easier on the mind. But none of this changed the fact that his role in the world wasn't due for quite some time.

He reached a voicemail. Expected, at this time of night. "Hello Iris, this is Nicholas. I'm calling to let you know I've had some problems crop up recently and I'm going to be out of town, so I'll be canceling my Tuesday appointment. I'll let you know when I can reschedule." With that, he hung up the line and pushed himself up from the desk, reaching for the front door. When he opened it, he found himself face to face with Moxie. "Ah, bones."