Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[sammy,]

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𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚜
lotus hotel & casino, nv
aphrodite (unclaimed)
mentioned: n/a
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the man across from celeste was staring at his cards in a manner that made him look positively ravenous.
in her own hand was a high card. every law of the game told her to fold, to allow him to take the collection of chips that sat pretty in the centre of the table. but the man had leered at her, had raised a single, suggestive eyebrow, and she wasn't pleased.

"i think you should fold," she positively purred. they were the only two still standing, the rest around the table watched, enamoured.
the grin disappeared. "fold," he said. it seemed he was fighting against the temptation to go with what she had ordered, but there was no running from it anymore. on the table, his hand was splayed. four of a kind. she wouldn't have stood a chance.
"good boy," she said, placing down her cards and collecting the worthless chips. "it was a pleasure."
and then she left, veering toward the bar.

"a betsy ross, if you would" she said to the bartender - a woman who had not turned around yet to acknowledge her presence. ever so rude, she thought, but when the face revealed itself, any negativity she may have harboured dissipated immediately.
"no," said the tender, her voice like silk. "you have to leave now, my darling. it's time to go."
"don't be ridiculous. i've only been in here -" celeste faltered. how long had she been in there? it seemed only minutes ago she had been - "- the message! oh, drat!" she stood, nearly stumbling over the stool.
"there's someone waiting for you outside. good luck," the woman's face kept shifting. it wasn't solid, but in that way, it was beautiful. did she have brunette or blonde hair? were those eyes cornflower blue or hazelnut brown? it didn't matter. she had a job to get on with. a job she should have been getting on with that had been lost along the way.

after grabbing a briefcase of bare possessions and donning her beloved greatcoat, she stumbled out of the hotel to find something very wrong.
had she moved? had she exited from the wrong door? this didn't look like where she had come in from. the sun was beating down. the air smelt simultaneously cleaner and yet more artificial - and a vehicle that looked like it had come from a fantasy book sped to park next to her.

the window rolled down. it was not pumped down, not pushed, but it rolled. behind the tinted screen was a boy who looked equal parts excited and terrified. "hi! i'm moss, are you celeste?"
there was no time for disarray. she straightened her coat and nodded slowly. "that's correct,"
"get in!" he said, a cheery grin on his face.
confused as she was, she did. she climbed into the seat he patted, which looked too sleek, too refined, and pondered on what could have possibly happened. "i have a message i need to impart. it's of utmost importance. for the -" as she looked out of the window of the now-moving car, it was becoming clearer and clearer that this was not her world. the lights were bright, the people were flouncing about in clothes that did not look like her own, and the man next to her - "your legs!" she yelped, staring between his face and his hooves incredulously.
"my wh-" he looked down, expecting to see something wrong, but found nothing out of order. "what's wrong with - oooh. heh. yeah. you never met a satyr before? who are you, anyway? what's the message?"
"a -" she was baffled, and rightfully so. "i've gone mad. this is hysteria, is it? i didn't believe i was the type."
"no. it's not - you're not... well, i don't know you, so i can't - uh - anyway... what's the message?"
"for the war. there was a war on, you know. it's not something i can imagine you would miss,"
"there's a war on?" moss yelped. "a real one? with - you know -" he made rudimentary sound effects with his mouth, the sound of quickfire gunshots, then seemed to become self-conscious. he stopped, ruminated in his shame, and ventured a question. "how long have you been in there?"
celeste took a shaky breath in. "i entered on the thirty-first of march," she said hesitantly.
"gee, that's - that's a while. it's june now. you've missed a lot," he said, seeming satisfied. but then he took her in, watched the way her eyes darted around the streets that zoomed past. "er - i - what... you're gonna think this is a weird question. but it's - it's important. you gotta answer. you can't just... you know. uh - heh. so... march thirty-first. got it. that's... that's in my head. but... could you give me a year? 'cuz... i dunno if i was busy, but i don't think there was a war on. and you look real... vintage."
"nineteen forty-four," she answered.
"oh, pan's pipes."

[WitchHazel]

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

Safe in the warmth of Ophelia's arms, it was easy to just slip into the enticing softness of sleep. Though part of her fought to stay awake, to linger in the comforting embrace, her exhaustion caught up to her. Everything she'd been through that day - the chaos of returning campers, the stressful Senior Counsel meeting, the prophecy... her tumble into the icy depths of the Zephyros - it had all taken it's toll on her mind and body. There in that moment, all her worries just seemed to drift away.
It wasn't long before she gave in. Her entire body relaxed, slumping deeper into Ophelia's hug. Her chest rose up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as she breathed. On her lips, a sleepy, genuine smile of pure comfort and bliss.

|⟡|Juliet Pratten|16|She/Her|Hermes|Location: Outside Big House --> Leaving Cabin 7|Tags: Apollo NPC, Open|

"Thank the gods," Juliet breathed as a son of Apollo rushed over to help her out. "I thought I might have to set this thing myself if you hadn't shown up."
The look of abject horror on his face was absolutely priceless. When he had recovered from his mild shock, he went about examining the area first, before telling her to follow him to the Apollo cabin. She let out a puff of air at being told what to do, but complied nonetheless.
The Apollo boy - David or something, she didn't really care what his name was - had her take off her coat and lie down on one of the cots that had been set up in the cabin. She was instructed to lie on her back and relax as much as possible.
"Yeah. Kinda hard to do with this throbbing pain in my arm," she grumbled. Nonetheless, she tried her best to calm her racing heart. She took a few deep breaths, feeling the tension leave her muscles more and more with each exhale. She was quite aware of the Apollo dude's presence next to her, hovering over her right side like an oversized bumblebee.
When the guy - Damien, was it? - gently took her wrist in both hands, she gritted her teeth. He arranged her forearm and palm to face downwards, making sure to keep it straight and level with her body.
"Isn't there, I dunno, a quick fix for this or something?" Juliet hissed.
"I mean, I could pop your shoulder back in quickly, if you want to potentially injure yourself further," the Apollo guy retorted as he slowly moved her arm towards her head, making small circular motions with it. She could feel some of his healing magic starting to seep through into her arm, thank the gods. Otherwise she'd probably be chewing his head off right about now given how much pain she was in.
Eventually, Devon - it was Devon, right? - went through all the motions until her arm was relatively close to her head. She felt him then start bending it at the elbow. "Alright, now don't move."
Juliet snorted. "As if I was going anywhere."
The boy soon returned with a large piece of torn cloth - a makeshift sling, Juliet supposed. Her suspicions were proven right when he began securing the off-white fabric around her arm.
"Alright, you're almost good to go!" the son of Apollo informed her. He offered her a small morsel of ambrosia that looked to be broken off from a cube. "This should speed up your recovery; you'll probably only need to wear that sling for tonight. I know it's small, but we're trying to conserve our stores. You know, since..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortably awkward.
"Good enough for me." Juliet popped the piece of ambrosia into her mouth, smiling fondly as the flavour of buttered popcorn washed over her tastebuds.
"You'll also need to be careful - no sparring or fighting with that arm, no heavy lifting, nothing. At least, not for the next few days. Or until we get some more ambrosia."
"Yeah, sure thing, Daniel!" The daughter of Hermes was already up, shrugging her bomber jacket over her sling.
"It's D-"
"Thanks again, Dylan!" Juliet called back to him as she walked towards the door.
The Apollo camper stared back at her with a dumbfounded gaze. "Maybe I should have checked for head trauma first."


|⟡||Chuck Oakes|He/Him|Satyr|Location: Campfire|Tags: Bay|

Chuck nearly jumped when a voice sounded from beside him, but quickly relaxed when he noticed it was just a nymph. And a rather beautiful one at that - Bay, he recalled. The satyr awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as he glanced from the dryad to the blackened flames, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say.
"Like, yeah," Chuck finally spoke, albeit breathily. "I mean, who can blame 'em, though? They like, just saw a huge part of the camp go down. Not to mention, like, all the poor dudes who didn't make it out." His own voice was weighted with sadness and grief. Sure, demigods perished on quests more often than he would have liked to think about. But that was out there, in the world. Camp Half-Blood was supposed to be a safe place for them. It had been years since someone had actually died at camp, as far as he could remember. "And like, the new kids... like, especially the brand-new kids... Talk about worst first day ever, you know?" He seated himself on the outskirts of the group, patting the spot next to him as an invitation to Bay. Now that he was out of crisis-mode, all the traumatic events that had just occurred came rushing back to him. So much death... so many injured. The satyr felt like he was going to be sick. He hadn't been able to stomach looking at the deceased long enough to figure out who exactly had been lost or how many, but still - even one demigod death at camp was too much.

[takara]

Agatha "Aggy" Clemson | 15 | She/her | Unknown (Ares)/Cabin 11| Location: Center of Cabins with fire | tags: Jamie, other kids at campfire, open | mentions:

Aggy held tight to Jamie's hand. It made her feel childish, something she'd be self-conscious of in other circumstances. But right now, it felt comforting.

It wasn't that Aggy hadn't been exposed to death before. No. She'd attended funerals with her mother, solemn affairs. She'd knelt by the casket in her black skirt, trying to look pious as she wracked her brain for some sort of prayer. But that was different. They were always older, or had some sort of condition, and their body's were cold, dressed up like wax figures, and devoid of blood. This wasn't like that.

Shs let herself be led to the campfire, meek as a lamb, not a flicker of her former fight in her. She stood next to Jamie when they reached the fire pit nestled in the circle of cabins, not bothering to find her assigned cabin's spot. She held to his hand with a vice-like gripe, and began rhythmically shifting her weigh from foot to foot as she stared at the flames. I wonder what they burn to get that color, She thought, watching them ebb and flow. Whoever set them up, they should've picked something more cheery for tonight. The color drove her train of thoughts in a circle

Jack "Reese" Dawson | 17 | Hades/Cabin 13 | Location: outside Big House | tags: Open! campfire group | mentions: Demeter Npc

Reese didn't try to converse with Jenny, who he'd recognized after the blood had been wiped off her face. She looked terrified, and it he didn't know if she had a brain injury. If only some of that healing magic rubbed off on me, He thought, gingerly helping her to stand. They made their way to Cabin 7 unsteadily, with Reese trying to balance out assisting her with not touching her more than was polite. He resisted the urge to break the awkwardness by asking her how the strawberries were doing, as that was likely to send her into hysterics. Can't ask about the weather, hmmm.

"Hey Jen, how's the green house going?" He asked, in spite of the fact that he found plants exhausting. Luckily, she missed his tone, and was happy to ramble on about seeding various tomatoes until they entered Cabin 7. I guess I should be happy that she's talking, He stewed when they at last reached the temporary infirmary.

"And that's why we choose Beefsteaks over Mortgage Lifters!" She was happily informing him as he helped her through the door. It took a minute to catch someone's eye, and Jenny took advantage of this time to start on the properties, benefits and disadvantages, of various potting soils.

He was relieved, to say the least, when they were finally approached by an Apollo camper. Head injury, he mouthed as Jen, amazingly, kept going. Dante nodded to Reese and let the girl to a bed, where he sat her down and started conversing with her.

For his part, Reese left the cabin with the determination of one who had places to go, for once glad to not be an actual healer of Apollo. He stood by the edge of the circle, reaching his hands out to warm them on the fire and regretting leaving his shirt with Jenny. I don't think the blood was coming out though, so same difference. He told himself, letting his eyes fall closed as he took in the heat from the morbid flames.

Henry "Hank" Walker | 17 | He/him | Apollo/Cabin 7 Head Counselor | Location: --> Cabin 7 | tags: Niji, open! | mentions:

Hank smiled at the horse's antics. At least one of them has sense. "She's a bright one for that," He said, adjusting himself so he was beneath Niji's armpit, a human crutch. But how am I going to get him there off her. "Not too far now, I bet they'll have some ambrosia for ya too!" He said, his thoughts trailing back to the taste of his mom's deersteak. The gods sure had ways to make you hurt, even when you were getting healed.

He blinked and drew hinself back to the camper at hand, flashed an apologetic smile, then set about getting Niji, and his horse, to Cabin 7. That's the campfire...woah, He let out a hard breath, but painted on a smile for Niji's sake, even if it was rather stiff.

He caught sight of a black mass, and his heart glitched for a moment, as he tried to determine what they were under attack from. He noticed the gathering campers around the thing, and it hit him

Ophelia Rogers | 16 | She/her | Aphrodite/Cabin 10 | Location: Cabin 10 | tags: Mirabelle | mentions:

The day's events were catching up to her. Ophelia stifled a yawn and rested her head on Mira's shoulder blade. She let her eyes fall closed. Just for a minute, she told herself. Her arms started to relax, but she didn't fight it. Let your...eyes...rest...just a...m.. With that, she was out, looking oddly peaceful as she laid on her counselor's shoulder.

There's always a calm, right before the storm. The birds go quiet. The winds halt a moment. The lake is flat and mirror-like, mesmerizing. Of course, it ends all too quickly.

[rabbit_with_a_fedora]

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



Laika dismounted Loverboy when she reached Chiron. If there was one thing she learned in the war, it was to disrespect her elders and those with more power. A son of Saturn? Laika wasn’t disrespecting him, she gave respect where respect was due. Of course, her first presiding officer would have taken half the marks off for the state she was in; tattered and bloodied, repainted with her own blood.

“Admiral Krieger,” he greeted her. “Though it’s been years since we last met. I assume you’re going by Lieutenant now?” Laika and the centaur been regular correspondents during the war; Chiron trying hard to keep camp safe and Laika using the inscrutable Greek and Roman methods of communication to relay information.
“Yes, sir, though Admiral is much more impressive, I am the Lieutenant of Lady Artemis. I’m deeply sorry for the losses this camp has suffered, and the grief it has caused you and Bacchus, I mean, Dionysus.” Chiron’s brown eyes filled with masked sorrow at her words. “It is true it has caused sorrow, Krieger, but what’s important is that we set this right. How many deaths did you say there were? 28?”
“Wise words, sir. I’m afraid that I don’t know whether to be glad or not about this, but there have been 18 fallen, though one of them were not victim to this tragedy. Sir, would you mind if I had a word at tonight’s counselor meeting? I’ve got a few suggestions, a few theories. A storm is coming, and I don’t know if you’re aware, sir, but we’re heading right into it.”
“You’ve never been declined a seat in the Parliament, so why decline you one now? You are always welcome at Camp Half Blood.” Laika knew this whole conversation was just a woven piece of niceties and formalities, but who said formalities weren’t necessary?
“Well, I assume, sir, that you should turn your attention back to your campers; it seems most have gathered around by this fire already. Though a fire from hell or not, I dare not say. I have my hunters assisting the children of Apollo; and we have a few of those ourselves. This sinister new force, as Canadian bitter-cold as it is, will require all of us to be united. And sir, in a final note, have you had any luck reaching my Romans?” She tried to pat Loverboy on the neck, but gasped in pain and clutched her shoulder before setting her posture straight again.
“Laika, you must rest yourself. The campers are safe, your hunters are busy, there is nothing for you to worry about. You need to rest that shoulder, and you’ve lost blood.” At this, the hunter looked right into the centaur’s eyes. There was no hurt, no shock, no pain in her eyes, because she didn’t feel any. There was a problem to be solved, and solved it would be.
“Sir, you worry about me? About this mere shoulder? ‘Tis but a scratch. Anyhow, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll go round up the rest of the campers, bring them over, go mend some wounds.” Laika turned to leave, struggling to mount Loverboy, when Chiron stopped her.
“Perhaps visit your siblings in cabin 13? Greek or not, they are still your family.” Chiron was just trying to get Laika to rest until the campfire gathering started, to wait for it. But no, Laika wouldn’t. She would be non-stop until the whole debacle was over. And her siblings? Laika’s gaze steeled, her jaw tightened. Her look was frosty and cold.

Many would think years of immortality would distance Laika from death because of no encounters; she was too familiar with the comfort of immortality to appreciate avoiding death. However, the truth was quite the opposite; she’d seen too much of it, heard too many final gasps, stepped over too many broken bodies. Every few days she lost a ship, another slip , another U-boat left undetected, and soon she and the other navy officials commandeering the Battle of the Atlantic began to only think of ships and submarines rather than hundreds of lives, leaving behind hundreds of broken hearts, broken families, broken futures. It was a matter of tens against tens, a ship against another, the strategy of outmaneuvering. In the navy, it was common knowledge that casualties, though less frequent, were more dramatic. Not many sailors could escape a sinking battleship. And while Laika and the other Allied leaders directed their ships into offensives and defensives, the thought of death became farther and farther.

To Laika, death was just a part of life. She’d become so used to it, so used to the pangs that they became dulled and drowned by the urgency of victory. Churchill, Roosevelt, Prime Minister King, they were all spurring the armies forwards, reminding them of the victory that lay ahead. They would never surrender, continue fighting on and on. And so, deaths became reduced to mere pixels forming tiny dots on her ship’s radar, sometimes flickering out in defeat and sometimes standing beside another fading dot in victory.

But perhaps there was one death she just couldn’t forget, couldn’t forget when someone’s nervous smile, glittering eyes and laughing voice was taken away from her, all at once.

“My siblings!” Laika scoffed, the sound bitter and soft, lost in the air. Her voice was almost a hiss. “I’ve had no parents since the early 30s, and no family since I buried Rupert’s body. I have no siblings.” And with that, she steered Loverboy to where her hunters remained gathered.

just gonna quote this because tags are open-

[*Lovel*]

Emerson "Emmie" Tags: Open Location: Cabin 7

What a crazy game, kinda wish I could've done more to help everyone out though." Emerson murmured to herself as she approached cabin 7. She peered through the window, curiously checking how many of her fellow campers were injured. She took a deep breath in as she took hold of the cabin doors handle, she released the breath before turning the handle and opening the door. She confidently took a step into the cabin. "Anything I can do to help?Since I wasn't much help when we were attacked." she asked anyone who'd listen. Though the last part of her sentence was barely a whisper. She felt a twist of guilt in her gut as she asked, she should have helped more. Maybe she could have prevented some of these injuries. She let those thoughts stir in the back of her mind as she plastered on a warm smile as she awaited an answer.

Aydan Tags: Open Location: Cabin 7

Aydan jolted awake, he racked his brain trying to remember what happened and why he was here. He was with Hank during capture the flag.... he had been using his powers... probably exhausted himself from over use. He gently smacked his forehead trying to remember more, he knew he was forgetting something important. He was finally claimed by... Khione.. had a slight mental breakdown. He cringed at the thought of his behavior. He also saw Juniper again, he must've passed out after he saw her and Hank must have brought him here. Aydan blushed, slightly embarrassed by the fact that he must have been a pain to Hank. He would have to remember to apologize and thank Hank later. He finally got out of his thoughts and took a moment to take in his surroundings. "Apollo's cabin?" he said raspily, even more confused now. What happened while he was knocked out?

[sammy,]

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𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚜
campfire
thanatos
mentioned: laika
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the fire was black. somehow, that made things feel much worse.

it was a catch-22, he knew. the mood of the camp impacted the colour of the flames, and the colour of the flames served as a poignant reminder of all that had happened. there was no escaping it, a mental paradox that was sending him head-first into pools of thought, the water in his mind as cold as the air that scraped his body.

the reminder of the cold was, surprisingly, one that shook teilo out of his mental haze. he stood, slipping away from the action, the low rumble of sombre chatter, and erred into the hermes cabin. he had never called the place home, and given the amount of hermes campers that were dipping around, he was thankful to have an excuse to switch to the cabin that called his name.
once in, he picked up his suitcase, which was light, not yet unpacked despite his long stay, and retrieved a hoodie from it - having shirked his own to wrap around someone, the name slipping from his mind, and then he was shuffling his belongings out of the newly-crammed room, into the air, and back into the building that he supposed would be considered his home for the foreseeable future.

it was nice in there. quiet. he had problems with sleeping in the midst of other noises, so the silence would be a happy escape from the noise of other camper's chests rising and falling. when his suitcase was on the ground, he took a quick, sweeping look around the room, and finally slipped back out.

teilo put the hoodie on, one more barrier against the biting air, but neglected to check where he was going when he did. foolish, he thought in retrospect, to not slow down, stop as he was doing something that obscured his vision, but the consequences had already been made. he bumped into someone, stumbled back. a hunter, he thought, and one that he didn't recognise. "i - uh - um, sorry. sorry," he near-spluttered. "i didn't mean to - i was just - sorry." a woman was next to the one he had bumped into, perched on top of a horse, looking generally intimidating. perhaps that was the cause of his anxiety, the way that she loomed there, looking important. "sorry." he repeated, backing off.

[indigo']

Jamie Wallace|16|he/him|Iris|Campfire|tags:Aggy

Under any other circumstance, Aggy’s out of character docility might have worried him, but he wasn’t at all surprised now. His breath caught at the sight of the fire, dark flames to match the feelings of the campers. It wasn’t unexpected, but that didn’t make the sight any less unsettling.

He didn’t mind Aggy’s tight grip on his hand, it was actually nice to have something to hold onto, something rooting him to the ground and reminding him that he was actually present; he was actually here and he hadn’t floated away from the earth. He silently wondered if the Hades campers had seen the souls of those they’d lost, some of them could see ghosts couldn’t they? He couldn’t sense the presence of spirits around them, but he had felt a chill settle over him that didn’t seem like it was going away anytime soon.

He wanted to say something that would lighten the mood, at least distract from the traumatic events that had just taken place, but no amount of jokes or stupid comments could change what had happened. Nothing could make it better. Instead he settled for something carefully neutral, a topic he figured would work well to distract the younger girl. “My knife turned into a paintbrush earlier,” He said quietly, realizing he still hadn’t found Aiden to get it back, and hoped that the Athena head counsellor was alright. “It’s not in my possession right now but...you’ll have to watch out next time you threaten me. I might paint you a picture.” He looked over at Aggy, raising his eyes brows in mock dramatism. It was a lame attempt at a joke, but it was the best he could muster at the moment.

[Galeslash7]

Bay Laurel, Immortal, Female, Drayd, Location: Campfire, Tags: Chuck, Mentions:, Npcs

Bay smiled and sat down next to the satyr, still gazing into the black fire. She could see the campers' faces and the hopelessness on them. Basically the headquarters of the camp had just broken and fallen apart. Chuck was right about the first timers too, they had just gotten here to be safe, yet campers were dying. She picked at some dirt in her dress and flicked pieces out. She was so nervous and scared, but she knew it was probably worse for the campers. They were the ones being hunted down by monsters, after all. Monsters never really seemed to bother her, especially since she avoided them. Dryads were nothing to them. "I feel like the Big House coming down is more symbolic. Like if the headquarters of Camp Half-Blood, the safest place for demigods on earth, has been completely destroyed in less than an hour... It feels like an omen... Or a message." She paused, looking at the pile of bodies that were being cleaned up. "Plus the deaths..." Here she let out a sort of sob and her voice hitched. She tried to cover it up, but she felt her eyes well up with tears. Bay took a deep breath and spoke again. "I don't know. I just feel like this was planned in a way. Or it could just be a hint to what could be coming."

[FerretMonarch]

|Draco Eqquum-magno|19|Draft Centaur|He/him|Gay|The late Pan|Location: The campfire|Tags: Open|

Draco walked over to the campfire making sure to stay out of the way as he would be getting up when Chiron got there.
Draco mentally went over the lines he had planned out before hand hoping that it would be a sufficient enough explanation.

Niji "Ji-Ji" Sakura Budōnoki • 17 • (he/they) • Homosexual • Dionysus • Location: By the bighouse• Tags: Hank

Ji-Ji nodded. "She's the brains I'm the beauty that's why I have no common sense."
Niji looked up quickly when he heard Hank's breath catch.
"Woah. Are you okay?" They asked not realizing he had just used the horse way to tell Hank to stop.

Niji turned so he was in front of Hank, grabbed Hank's upper forearms, and studied Hank's face for any signs of pain.

Niji poked Hank's face without a thought to how Hank would react. "Your smile's fake why?"
Niji frowned and waited for an answer knowing he wouldn't let Hank get away with not answering.

[WitchHazel]

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

For once in her life, Mirabelle's sleep was peaceful and uninterrupted by traumatic dreams or memories. Unfortunately, her blissful slumber was about to be broken by a rude awakening.
"Like, omg! I can't believe the campfire's black. Such a tacky colour for fire."
"I know, right? Like is it trying to be goth or something? Because eww."
The sounds of mindless chatter slowly filtered through Mirabelle's consciousness, pulling her back into the present moment.
“Totally. Why's Chiron making us meet there anyways? I'm so glad we decided to - oh.” The two Aphrodite campers - a boy and a girl, Mirabelle recognised them as being called Lucas and Megan, respectively - had evidently discovered her and Ophelia and were staring not-so-politely. Despite herself, an embarrassed blush coloured Mirabelle’s cheeks at being found in such a position. She quickly hardened her resolve, however, slipping back into the carefully crafted mask of the perfect head counselor.
“What are you two doing standing around and gossiping?” she inquired, sternly yet not harshly.
“Uh -”
“We were just - getting ready to totally go back to the campfire,” Megan explained sheepishly. “You know, touching up our makeup, that kind of thing.
“Yeah, totally not gonna skip Chiron’s boring announcements or anything,” Lucas added, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Megan.
Mirabelle raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on their behaviour for the time being. Instead, she slipped from the confines of the blanket heap - and Ophelia’s arms -, nearly sighing in relief when her head didn’t start spinning like it had earlier. Her legs were still a little shaky, but she seemed otherwise mostly recovered. “If you two aren’t out there before the meeting starts, I’ll personally make sure Chiron knows you were being less than responsible,” she assured them, her tone way too cheery for delivering a threatening message. The two campers gulped and scurried off without a second thought.
With them gone, Mirabelle's gaze flickered over to Ophelia. She considered waking the other girl - if her departure hadn't done that already - but she quickly changed her mind for the time being. She looked so... peaceful. She figured she could leave her to her tranquility for a few minutes longer.
Mes dieux. Now that her head wasn't throbbing, the embarrassment was really settling in. I’ve opened up in front of Ophelia, hugged her twice, nearly had a mental breakdown, then fell asleep on top of her!? The thought completely mortified her. She could feel heat rush to her cheeks in a flustered blush. And all in one evening. Mirabelle heaved a sigh as she shook out her sleep-mussed blonde locks, walking carefully over to one of the many mirrors on the wall. Just another thing to add to the list of missteps, I guess. She looked herself over in the mirror, repressing a cringe at her own tired reflection. Thankfully, the Zephryos hadn’t washed away the permanent makeup covering her scar, but she still looked like Tartarus warmed over. To think that anyone had seen her like that - especially her own cabinmates - made her want to groan. And that they’d walked in on her and Ophelia cuddling? No doubt there would soon be rumours flying about as to the nature of what they’d witnessed. Zut alors, je suis un idiot - what am I doing!? She mentally admonished as she applied a quick coat of makeup to make herself more presentable. It wasn’t as involved as she would’ve liked, but at least it was something. While brushing out her mostly-dry hair, she found herself ruminating on Lucas' earlier complaint. "I can't believe the campfire's black." Those were his words. Or had she heard him incorrectly? A sudden dread clutching her heart told her that her hearing was perfectly fine. For now, she pushed such dark thoughts out of her mind. She would find out what was going on soon enough.
Mirabelle pulled on her boots, trying to ignore the trepidation nagging at the back of her brain. An uncomfortable squelch told her that they were still quite damp after defrosting. Though her body temperature had mostly stabilised by this point, it was still cold outside. She tugged her winter coat tighter around herself, fixing some of the buttons that had come undone during her unintentional nap. Disregarding her less than dry boots, she fitted a cream coloured knit hat over her head and slipped on some matching gloves. With her preparations finished, she figured she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.
"Hey, Ophelia?" She spoke softly, laying a gentle touch on the other girl's shoulder in case she was still sleeping. "I think the Campfire is about to begin. Do you want to come with, or should I just brief you in the morning?" It had been a long day, after all - Mirabelle wouldn't blame her if she just wanted to stay in for the night.


|⟡|Juliet Pratten|16|She/Her|Hermes|Location: Leaving Cabin 7 --> Campfire|Tags: Open|Mentions: Hank, Niji, Bay, Chuck, Lucy, Campfire Group|

Despite her now sling-swaddled arm, Juliet donned a casual smirk as she slipped past a few campers lingering at the entrance to Cabin 7. She gave them a singular wave as she passed by. Wait, was that a horse!? Man, maybe that Apollo dude was right. Shaking her head, the daughter of Hermes sauntered over to the Campfire.
Her face fell when she saw the colour of the flames - she had been far too focused on the spiking pain in her shoulder to so much as notice the dismal fire. Her previous attitude faltered. Despite her general lack of knowledge about a wide variety of subjects, she knew the general mood of the camp impacted the colour of the campfire. The meager light given off by the dismal black flames cast everyone in a depressing, somewhat creepy glow, only further withering her spirits. She meandered past a very awkward-looking Chuck consoling a sobbing dryad, paying them little mind. A sea of familiar faces spread out before her - some tear-stained and bruised, others forlorn and reserved.
Heck, even Lucy looked upset. Wait, Lucy? When had she gotten here? Juliet shook her head. No matter. If she had the use of both of her arms, she might've even offered to help the daughter of Apollo with her luggage. It was always best to stay in Lucy's good graces, Juliet found. But she doubted she would be of much use with a healing shoulder.


|⟡||Chuck Oakes|He/Him|Satyr|Location: Campfire|Tags: Bay|

Chuck's face slowly took on a sad, distant look as Bay talked about the Big House and everything that had happened that day. He felt tears prick his own eyes, a few even spilling out in warm rivulets down his freckled cheeks.
"Like, it's okay, man," he assured her, rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. "You can let it all out. I don't think anyone here will like, think any less of you, if that's like, a concern. I mean, it would be like, bananas to not be upset, you know?" His stomach dropped as he reflected on what she'd said - Planned, in a way. A hint to what could be coming. He shuddered at that thought. What could be worse than such a seemingly immortal symbol of the camp just giving out? What could be worse than losing so many campers?