Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Roxanne tags shadow, karter and draco

The daughter of hades hears shadow yip and says “what is it girl?” Shadow dashes off with Roxanne close behind. She spots draco and karter and says “what wrong draco?” She crouches near him and looks at her half brother and then to the centaur

[sunhorsestar]

Karter Zael | Hades | Tagging: Draco, Roxanne | Location: Camp


"Rox!" Karter called, waving his sister over when he caught sight of her. Karter wasn’t exactly close with ANYONE at camp, siblings or otherwise, so far he had carefully made sure of that, though he supposed in hindsight that perhaps that wasn’t the best approach to life. Especially demigod life. "We may need a bit of help over here! I dunno how long ago, but..." he nodded toward Draco's quite clear injury. "We’ve got problems."

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Roxanne tags karter and draco

Roxanne nods and says “ok what’s do you think the problem is draco?”

[sunhorsestar]

Karter Zael | Hades | Tagging: Draco, Roxanne | Location: Camp


"If I may...Uh, maybe THAT?" Karter pointed to the pierced leg. Children of Hades were HARDLY knowledgeable in medicine, but even Karter could tell that wasn’t normal.

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Roxanne tags karter and draco

Roxanne says “wait here!” She gets up and runs to her cabin and grabs a white short and her first aid kit. She runs back and hands the shirt to karter and she says “tear this in to thick strips” she opens the kit and pulls out the gauze and the peroxide. She grabs her water bottle and says to draco “this might sting” she looks up at him

[indigo']

Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Big House|tags:Juliet

Auggie didn’t pay much attention to the centaurs injury after her initial threat and moment of indignance. She didn’t have to anyway, a couple of her cabinmates seemed to be taking care of it. She turned her attention back to the disaster unfolding in front of her. She could feel something dripping down from the burning pain in her left arm, but she hadn’t dared to look at it yet. Gritting her teeth, she realized she wouldn’t be much use to anyone if she bled to death from a little cut. Clearly frustrated, she pulled one of her knives out of it’s sheath and slashed a chunk of fabric from the bottom of her hoodie. It was already ripped and bloodsoaked anyways, another tear didn’t make much of a difference.

She wrapped the fabric around her arm as tightly as she could considering it’s difficult to tie something around your own arm. It would have to do, at least it would slow down the blood flow. Many of the injured campers had already been retrieved from the Big House, and many of them were laid out on the snowy ground, looking a little more than injured. She felt a twinge in her chest at the sight. All of these people had been alive just moments before, scared maybe, but still living and breathing with a future ahead—no matter how hopeless that future may have seemed.

They weren’t done yet, the house was still creaking and groaning and people were still running out of it. There didn’t need to be so many people going back inside, that was just going to get more of them killed. Idiots, she thought, before running in herself. She scanned the surrounding rubble quickly, eyes searching for any sign of life. She heard a crack above her and dodged out of the way just as another chunk of the ceiling fell, shattering on the floor next to her. It wasn’t safe to stay in one spot for long, so she kept moving. Then she saw them, the shape of a person crumpled beneath the rubble. There was no way they had survived the weight of it all, but she ran to them anyways, sliding to her knees and gently pushing aside the debris, feeling for a pulse. There was still something there, but the were in no state to get up and walk by themself, the falling rubble must have hit them in the head and knocked them out.

She scooped them up, luckily the person was fairly lightweight, but her injured arm wasn’t much help. She staggered out of the room, her eyes flicking to the ceiling regularly as she watched for any signs of falling beams and plaster. She’d only made it about halfway back when she saw the form of someone else—someone conscious—cowering behind a table.

“Juliet?” She called, fairly certain it was in fact the daughter of Hermes. One benefit of always sticking to the shadows was that you could hear things without being noticed. She knew the names of most people in camp, even if they didn’t know her. “What are you doing in here?” She snapped. The girl hadn’t exactly struck her as the kind of person to rush into a crumbling building to save people, but she had been wrong about quite a few people at camp it seemed.

The wind in the house may have been helping keep the roof up, but it did nothing to help with the stability of Auggie’s legs under the extra weight of the other camper. Her head started to spin, eyesight going dark and blotchy due to the loss of blood from her arm. She felt her knees buckle and slam down on the ground hard enough to make her wince, biting the inside of her cheek.

[Kveykva]

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

The tears didn't stop, and they wouldn't for a while. There was more to this than just the deaths of his campmates; this was his tipping point. How was he supposed to protect anyone if right here, right now, he failed to protect those closest to him? The people right around him. The ones he bickered with at lunch, who he offered a shoulder to stand on when they needed it most, and the ones who he considered his only family. Aiden couldn't offer Teilo much beyond a croak squeezed out of his cracking voicebox, but slowly his breathing began to settle. "Eighteen..." He wiped his eyes and nose, the liquids freezing onto his sleeve alongside the blood from the earlier attack. The wound behind his ear wasn't any more healed, but the snow had frozen the injury shut for the time being. "It's... It's less than twenty." Aiden struggled to see an upside to the situation, and it was all he could do to just pull himself back together. Out of all the campers it could have been, he was glad it was Teilo. Someone who didn't know him all that well, someone who wouldn't judge his moment of weakness too harshly upon seeing it. A friend.

Aiden sat back in the snow, drying his tears with trembling hands. His vision was blurry, and no amount of scrubbing at his eyes made it flee. Teilo sat in front of him, blocking sight of the collapsed out and the bodies. Normally, the child of Athena would have insisted he move. "Thank you. And..." he avoided meeting the other's eyes. "... I'm sorry."

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

The two stood in silence for what felt like forever, Nicholas trying to piece together an excuse to get himself out of the mess he'd now been caught in. "So... I take it you got Jessica's ca─" His question was cut short with Moxie's fist being driven into his nose, which sent him reeling. "Ow!" A slew of curses followed. "God damn it, Mox! Is there ever going to come a time where your first instinct isn't to break my nose?!" Nicholas made a noise of discomfort as he pushed it back into place. Moxie fixed him with an intimidating stare. He could tell she was more than just a little angry. "When were you going to tell me?" He met her eyes, still rubbing his nose. "Tell you what?" His attempts to play dumb were done so in vain. "That you were a god." Piss. "Uh, never, if I could avoid it." Clearly, that was not the correct answer. "Of what?" "I'm sorry?" She raised her fist a second time, causing Nicholas to recoil from it. "Abababa, okay okay! Just please don't hit me again," Moxie lowered her fist, but still waited expectantly for an answer. "Of. What?" She repeated.
"Why are you asking? If you were eavesdropping, you already know the answer."
"I want to hear you say it."
"It won't change the answer, you know."
He sighed softly, looking ashamed. "Death. I'm the horseman of the apocalypse." He tried to stand confidently, but the aversion to her gaze broke the facade. "I'm not proud of it, but this is the way things are." When Nicholas finally found the courage to raise his head, he was surprised to see tears. "So what are we to you?" She demanded. "Are we pawns? Playthings? Fuel for the fire?" He spread his hands in the face of the accusation. "N─N-No, Mox i-it's not like that. I'm not─I don't─" the horseman struggled to piece his thoughts together, trying to find the right words to comfort the woman. "I can't tell you what you want to hear, Maxine. I don't think any less of you or anyone here in Morgantown. You aren't just─" "Pawns?" she finished the sentence for him. "I always knew something was up; something wasn't right here. In five years of living here, I've never seen a monster. Not a harpy, not a minotaur, not even a faun." Maxine breathed an exaggerated laugh. "I thought I'd just missed them. My senses were going dull, right? And then I saw it. You. You cut your hand trying to pry open the register when the door jammed. Your blood is gold, Nick. I thought I was crazy. What would a god be doing here? In rural Pennsylvania, of all places?"
"Maxine, please, I can explain─"
"I don't want an explanation!" She hissed, her lips trembling. "You kept the monsters away, and I accepted a long time ago that it was enough. But now you're going to leave? Heading off to end the world on your pearly steed? Everyone here is going to die without you!" Nicholas moved forward to comfort her, hand outstretched. "Mox..." She defensively drew her sidearm from its holster, pausing his advance. The horseman stopped, glancing between the gun and her tear-stained face. "Maxine... we can talk about this, alright?" Carefully, he took another step. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Just put the gun─" She reflexively pulled the trigger, shattering the tense silence. It filled just as quickly, but the sight before her wasn't one she expected. The man she called a god lay curled on the floor, hands pressed against the bullet wound in his chest. Golden ichor oozed from the injury, decorating the tiled floor. Moxie's attention briefly turned to the weapon in her hand: a G17 Glock, a mortal weapon. Yet... "What are you?"

[takara]

Agatha "Aggy" Clemson | 15 | She/her | Unknown (Ares)/Cabin 11| Location: outside Big House | tags: Jamie | mentions: Orin

Aggy had the manners to look away at the boy's tears
Doesn't he know that it's indecent to cry in public?. The name Orin didn't ring a bell, and she eyed him thoughtfully. The building was pure chaos, and it looked to be held up by bolts of lightning?? She sighed. If the damn boy had gone back in for her, she might as well return the favor. She loosened her sword belt. "What's he look like, this Orin?" She said, holding the belt and scabbard out to Jamie, gesturing for him to take it. "And where was he headed?" She asked. Aggy really, really didn't like the idea of reentering the building. But she wasn't about to let this Jamie best her in bravery. Besides, she was leaving Flora out here, so the cutlass too wouldn't get trapped in the rubble.

Jack "Reese" Dawson | 17 | Hades/Cabin 13 | Location: outside Big House | tags:Npcs/ open! | mentions: Jamie, Aggy, NPCs

Two kids bolted out of the house, their movement breaking Reese's concentration. He opened his eyes to peer at them, or more aptly, the sinking house behind them. Crap, it isn't working! He thought, realizing that since the house was ancient and wood based, lifting the metal pieces wouldn't do much good. He eyed the chaos before him, searching for an opening. He had no intentions of going inside, that would be a death wish, but their were plenty of injured campers milling about, some being held up by friends and some simply huddled in the snow. He approached a group of them.
"Good evening, I'm Reese, a healer. Do you happen to have any broken bones?" He asked aware of how strange the question was, but also aware of how strange the situation was.

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Laurel tags open

The daughter of zues holds the hose more form collapseing and she opens her eyes with are the color of liquid gold and weirdly glowing. She looks around and spots the hous still collapsing she raises her hands palms facing up to channel her power more. She watches the house stabilize itself enough for others to get out. She closes her eyes again bending the lightning to make more structure beams.

[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: Big house gang❩ ©



Laika had lived through 6 years of constant nightmares to know that a miracle wasn't enough to solve a problem. A plane could be shot down, a ship sunk, a whole battalion swept dead in a matter of seconds. Sure, Laurel keeping the house stable - for the time being - was helpful, but it wouldn't solve the crisis in one fell swoop. It was a brief shine of heaven's light, but there was still a burning fire all around them, fire straight from hell. As Orin cheered, Laika was struggling to not sigh in exasperation. Laurel would lose her focus soon, no demigod, even as powerful as a daughter of Zeus, could hold the house long enough to get every single camper, dead or alive, out of this nightmare. Sooner or later, she'll get tired, she'll lose her focus. And what then? We'll all be dead, as we're standing under beams that are lifted solely by her power. Plus, the wind would just knock people off their feet and hurl debris at others, and the lightning might as well fry them all.

As Orin directed the campers to jump out the window (what a terrible image), Laika began to reach her powers out, scouring for more auras of bitter death or fragile life. And, to no surprise, there were indeed survivors, and those who hadn't made it, the breath forced out of their chest by heavy wood, the blood crushed out of their hearts by the piercing ice. Idiots, she hissed internally, how can Orin be so sure no one else is still in here? Just because a miracle appeared doesn't mean the whole debacle is over.

Orin left her with a few despondent words, and Laika, having no need for words, slipped into her lion form. She darted around and under the supports provided by Laurel, feeling the electricity coursing painfully through her as her flank brushed some of the columns. The nearest living soul was on the other side of the house, so Laika started to head that way. Some others passed through her radar, but they gave off the unique glow of the hunters of Artemis. Most, as Laika had last seen, were already out of the big house, having brought out as many bodies as they could, and were now waiting for her orders. Good, keep them out of danger. I'll get the rest, who seem to be all alive.

Just as she reached a survivor, with their neck brutally bent backwards, Laika felt her blood turn cold with the bitter pang of death. There were 18 now, 18 campers lost. She had been too late, or perhaps it had been hopeless in the first place. Shaking her head, she pushed the camper onto her back, ignoring the deep pangs as their weight drove the wood lodged in her shoulder deeper, piercing at the bone. Laika couldn't exactly swing her head around and pull it out; if she did, the blood would just drain and drip away faster. She reached a cavity amongst the rubble, where two sturdy (enough) columns crisscrossed each other, and deposited the lifeless camper there, flicking her tail to close their unblinking eyes.

Repeating the same pattern, Laika found a camper, dead or alive, and brought them either to the spot where she had placed the first body or out of the house and onto the blood-stained lawn. Some were surprised to see a lion, but most were too weak to protest.

As she neared the final camper, she closed her eyes, concentrating on double-checking for any more survivors. So far, that was it. Laika pushed the last demigod onto her back, and almost collapsed with pain. Screw the pain, screw the shoulder, just get this last one out, she hissed at herself, eyes narrowing. The pale white lioness was now a dusty color, with her right shoulder a bloody mess.

As she deposited the last survivor onto the lawn, she roared (weaker, this time), and turned back into her human form. Her coat was ripped and re-painted with scarlet blood. Laika raised her voice, pushing the pain out of her thoughts. “There are no more in the building, we got them all out. There should be 18 dead. Your orders still stand, and, I think the daughter of Zeus can take a break, as everyone’s out - oh hell.” She spotted Orin, the fool, scurrying back into the house. Why was he? Everyone had been brought out; was the man on a suicide mission after all? “Actually, forget that. Orin, why’re you heading back into the - literally - blasted building?” but her words were too late, he’d already gone inside.

This sigh was one Laika couldn’t stop. She was just too exhasperated. There were 18 dead, all brought out, and the only living aura in the house was Orin. The son of Zeus was just insane. But then, Laika knew he wasn’t. She hated doing her analysis based on a camper’s presumed sanity, but it was her best bet. If there are 18 dead, and they’re all out, then why would Orin go in? Certainly not based off the guess that someone else was still alive, after so many children of Hades and Pluto haw told him there wasn’t? Now that I think about it, one of those deaths does seem rather far, distant. Mayhaps..? A thought sprung into her mind like a lioness leaping onto prey.

There was no time to contemplate it, she had to get the blasted idiot out before he toyed with Death one time too many. There were no dead inside the building, no alive, either. With a last sweeping look around the lawn, Laika slipped into her lion form and dashed after him.

She skidded on the frozen puddles of blood on the ground when she turned to block Orin from advancing further, and snarled before turning back to the Laika that everyone knew and loved. “Listen, I won’t pretend to know why in the blasted world you would want to head back in here when there’s nothing else to be found, but hear me out. There is no one, dead or alive, in this wretched house. They’re all out on the lawn. And correct me if I’m wrong, but one of the 18 deaths have not been a victim to these beams of wood and these shards of ice.”