Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: felix -open.
ivi campfire - on a wander.

after a while of sitting, of people drifting out of their cabins and starting the slog of the day, orin was confronted with the sound of feet crushing old, slushy snow. someone here. yes, he had gathered that, thank you.
“hello,”
orin lowered his head from the sky to find a flash of gold. “hello,” he answered. perhaps it was a bit awkward.
“how - are you - i mean, are you okay?” felix wasn't sitting, just standing awkwardly over him, watching like a hawk.
“yes,” it came out frayed, ragged at the edges, not convincing in the slightest. “yes.” trying again did little to grout the gaps in his composure, so he took another route. “as okay as i can be. i died, don’t’cha know. i think you were there. can't really remember. bigger things on my mind. dying, mostly. death. the underworld." his eyebrows rose, voice flat. "anyway. enough about me, how are you? how were you holding up? how did that feel, me being dead? not like you didn't have anyone to fret over, but - you know. must've been hard for you.” there was a challenge in his throat. best to ask him first, before he started harping on about how difficult it had been for him, for felix, personally.
“it was the longest four months of my life,”
“i was only dead a few hours,”
“were you?” felix breathed. “a lot happened. felt like longer.” he could say that again. “i wanted to - i checked, orin.”
“you should be checking once a month, at your age. you’re a doctor, shouldn’t you know that?”
“your number,” he said, ignoring the joke. silence followed. “it’s eight. if you want to know.”
of course it was. it wasn’t going to be any other number, was it? had to be that one, that final ironic nail in the poetic coffin. “great. is there a reason i should know that?”
“it’s not been that low since i met you. it's never been that low,” felix prodded. “so i looked a little further, mostly 'cause - you know, all that stuff happening at the campfire, i wanted to figure out if it was you, and - and your brain’s clean.”
“pardon?”
“your blood pressure’s still a little off. but your brain, it’s... i mean, the genes are there, but the rest, there’s nothing. you’ve got no aneurysms. it’s like it’s been wiped. like a soft reset. it'll - i mean, it's like you've been born again. you've got time before they start coming back,”
“right,” orin sounded disinterested. like felix had just told him something mundane and normal, like it didn't matter in the slightest. it was not the anticipated reaction to an inferred change of life. it wasn't the explosion of euphoria that would have been anticipated after years of anxiety.
this, of course, was picked up on. “aren’t you - i mean, are you - i thought you’d be happy,”
a pause, and a deep breath in. “can you smell smoke?” orin asked, waving at the campfire.
felix tilted his head. “yeah,” he said. “why?”
“’cause i can’t,” his lips pursed. “funny, that, isn’t it?” with a slap of the knee, orin stood up, extended his hand. “suppose this means i’m discharged, doesn’t it? thank you for all your hard work over the years. you can stand down now, soldier. the job is done. don't need to worry anymore. lucky you.”
felix stared at the hand. "is that what you thought it was? a job?" he asked. "you were a -"
"don't - don't - don't tell me i was your friend," orin cut him off, voice peaky. "you watched a gun get pulled on me and all you cared about were my chances of dying. were they high? was the probability of that trigger being pulled epic and frightening enough to stun you into freezing? must've been so hard for you. was it the same when lucy was -" he bit his tongue, reeled it back in. "thank you for being there when i died. i really appreciate it. shake my hand, and we can be done with it, yeah? all's even."
regretting it as he did so, felix clasped their hands together. a brief and curt interaction that didn't match up with the depth of their history. "orin, you can't seriously believe that -"
"i can believe whatever i want. do whatever i want. stress is of no object now, is it? no more worries for me for another decade or two. that's great. i'm over the moon." a pasted smile, overtly falsified. "so pleased. i'm just shocked, is all. i've just come back from the dead, allow me t'be a little shocked." he took his hand away. "i'm going to go for a walk. thank you."

he didn't wait for permission, just sauntered away. the problem was clear in his head, but perhaps not in felix's. perhaps not in anyone's but his own. he had drawn a conclusion, and it wasn't dr. coyle's fault, but it was easier to pin the blame on the messenger than on someone else entirely. the frustration had found a home in his chest. even the muttered words - the quiet "i missed you," that barely caught his ears as he fled - were enough to make his throat tighten. it was easier to be angry, he thought. easier than letting it hurt.

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐬 ！！ x─────ix ♖
x──────i ii thanatos. iii seventeen. iiii tags: ash.
ivi hampton inn, room 207.

he had caught words, but they hadn't registered until he left the bathroom, taking ash in. his mind wasn't properly in gear. breakfast was a concept he hadn't even considered. breakfast was dangerous, because that was when he was supposed to come to a decision that he hadn't reached yet. "normally sleep past breakfast," he admitted. the three-meal day was an alien concept to him, but they had a long day ahead, and he'd been drained of enough energy. "yeah. yeah, i probably should."

as ash got ready for the day, teilo repacked the sparse bag, pulled his coat over his shoulders, and shoved his feet into battered shoes. when he went to pick emrys up, he noted the piece of paper that sat next to the watch, the letter that had fallen from the reaper's hand. he hadn't thought about it, had picked it up without a second thought, as though the movement was intrinsic. curious, he picked it up, turned the red-smudged paper over a few times in his hands, and when he went to open it -
"a pair of girls came asking for you -"

"girls?" he asked. "did they -" he didn't suppose they would have clarified what they wanted. it was rare he had visitors with heartbeats. daunting, in a way, that he was known enough to be sought. and with the distraction made, he didn't waste more time, slipping the letter into his pocket, gall lost. it was rude to open other people's post. illegal, as well, but rude took precedent.

ash re-emerged from the bathroom. "you slept well, then," sarcasm slathered the words. he could talk. "you can sleep in the van, though. as much as i trust my own driving, i don't think anyone'll be happy with me if i go to kip on the motorway." he'd picked up that word. wasn't happy with the impact that clive had had already, but the thought of leaving the incessantly aggravating ghost was surprisingly sad. he hadn't seen a spirit as more than an inconvenience in quite a while. still, he stood, tried again, feebly, to clear the crease. "should probably see if anyone's made their way to wakefulness yet."

[WitchHazel]

Mirabelle Everhart
|♡|17|She/Her|Aphrodite|Head Counselor|Location: Hampton Inn, Room 208 ➡ Hallway|Tags: Open|

It seemed that Aggy had yet to wake, which was a blessing in Mirabelle's eyes. She should sleep as much as she can. She'll need it for what is to come. An ominous thought, but a truth nonetheless. She couldn't deny that a surge of warmth rushed through her seeing Aggy looking so unusually peaceful. If only it could last.

Fuzzy feelings aside, she turned to her backpack to solve the question of accessories. Right. Now, which scarf to wear? She pulled out both scarves; the cream one she’d crocheted and the pink one Jack had made for her. Pink on pink. Too much. She packed Jack's scarf away, zipping up her bag. Though she didn’t need to go outside yet, she was still a little chilled. She wrapped the scarf snugly around her neck. That's a little better. She slung her backpack over her shoulders and picked up her duffel bag. It was clear she had no intent of returning to the room, save if Aggy needed to be awoken later on. Sleep tight, little wrecking ball.

Speaking of waking people... is it too early to wake Ash? Something told her yes, she should probably allow him to sleep as well. Especially after... whatever that was that happened the night previous. No, not the Teilo situation. The feminine voices she had recognised but been unable to place. Yes, I'll let him sleep. Besides, I don't have a key. How am I to wake him and not Teilo? They hadn't really been over that.

The artificial lighting of the hallway sent daggers through her skull. She blinked rapidly, trying to return some semblance of moisture to her dry, bloodshot eyes. By that time, breakfast was likely starting - she hadn't hastened a glance at the clock on the way out, but assumed it was probably around seven. Continental breakfast usually began around seven. Despite her lack of an appetite, she wanted to get something in her stomach. Then I can take my medication without anyone else seeing. They didn't need to know about her diagnosis - sure, depression and anxiety weren't uncommon disorders, but there was still a stigma that went along with them. Mental health issues didn't fit within her impression of perfection.

It was with all this in mind that she left the room behind and started down the hallway. Her shoulders carried the weight of her fatigue, slouched and despondent. A slight change in posture, but a telltale sign to those who knew her well.


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

The light chased away the shadows, but only for a second. The darkness remained unilluminated, but it wasn't just darkness anymore. A black glittering thing filled with golden stars swelled up in her vision, blurring and dancing dangerously. The darkness had always felt safe to Vivienne. This was something different.

Teeth. Teeth, sharp, slobbering teeth. Or at least that's what was pulled from the depths of her memory upon regarding the jagged obsidian floating in her eyes. Eyes, watching, waiting... She took an unconscious step backwards, all the colour draining from her face. W-Wings... th-the wings... there are too many wings... too many eyes... She tried to step backwards, just one more step. Her feet wouldn't cooperate. Her heart was in her throat.

"Oh, Vivienne. It's just you. Good morning, I hope you slept well enough."
The voice... the voice was his, his voice emanating from everywhere and nowhere. From... from... MONSTER - RUN - run - hide - NOT SAFE - Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, to hide, to do something. But she was frozen to the spot, quite literally as the frost crept from her panicked body.

She didn't feel the water freeze within the glass she was holding. She didn't hear it hit the floor and shatter, sending shimmering pieces scattering across the surface. She didn't even notice as her own flesh became sheathed in ice, her breath misting the frigid air in short, sharp gasps. Because I could not stop for Death... B-Because I... B-Because... Poetry would bring no solace here. Not within this - this thing, this thing that was nowhere and everywhere all at once, watching, speaking, moving.

Then her mind was a mosaic, and everything broke.

[tawneypelt0504]

Cassandra Lynn Peters|19|she/her|Hermes|Head Counselor|Demi-bisexual|Loc:Hermes cabin--->Training arena|Tags/Mentions:Open
Cass quietly slipped back into the Hermes cabin and laid down on her bed trying to see if she could get at least a few more minutes of sleep. Cass's night had not been great, it took her forever to fall asleep and once she did she was plagued with nightmares, as well as the nightmares of her cabinmates. It certainly didn't help she was sore as all hell, so she was currently waiting for breakfast where she could drown her sorrows in coffee. Earlier in the morning she had gotten up, and went out to slip friendship bracelets under pillows and in bags like a grumpy sleep-deprived Santa. "Might not be much but at least the new people know someone cares" Cass thought as she laid back on her bunk staring upwards. Cass let out a long sigh and, decided to do something protective, and grabbed her ring before transforming it into her most prized possession, a replica of Inigo Montoya's rapier from The Princess Bride. Cass moved the sword from side to side slightly admiring it in the light smiling as she did so. After Cass had finished admiring her sword she put on her dagger earrings and walked out heading towards the training arena.

Richard Sylvester Williams|21|he/him|Hermes|Bisexual|Loc:Half-blood hill|Tags/mentions:Cass,Oreo
Sylvester's anticipation grew as he grew nearer and nearer to camp, His drive was finally coming to a close. It would have taken shorter but a few monster attacks and speeding tickets had added on to his drive time. Luckily he wasn't worse for wear although he was slightly singed and definitely smelled burnt, he left a lengthy apology note to the gas station attendant who was on break. It really wasn't Sylvester's fault he just needed some gas and that Empousa came out of nowhere and things escalated from there. As Sylvester came up to the base of the hill he stopped his bike and stared up, remembering the first time he was dropped of and climbed up the hill, it'd seemed so much bigger then. Oreo's impatient meow brought Sylvester out of his thoughts " I know girlie, we're almost done" Sylvester grinned at the tuxedo before he began to drive up the hill.

After he crested the top Sylvester stopped his bike once more and looked out at the camp, it looked pretty much the same as when he left, albeit the Bighouse was now only a pile of ruins. Even though Sylvester knew from Cass what had happened it was still quite a shock to see it himself. Letting out a small sigh "Come on Oreo" Sylvester muttered while turning off his bike and grabbing his bag before heading down the hill to make his arrival known.

[sammy,]

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 ！！ x─────ix ♔
x──────i ii zeus iii eighteen. iiii tags: open.
ivi - dining pavilion.

orin had developed an unfortunate habit of daydreaming while he had waited. he remembered that. before the souls took any notice of him, before his ears came under public ownership and his mind became a halfway house for those unfortunate spirits that didn’t quite feel up to losing it all again. it went everywhere. he’d had extraordinarily vivid visions, or deathdreams, or whatever, and they were profoundly, quintessentially mundane. him, standing on a train, the commuter next to him so close he could feel stale breath landing on his skin. him, looking for the right brand of pasta sauce for the vaguely italian-inspired dish that his mother yearned to make. him, using a can opener to open a tin of tuna to feed the stray cat that wandered into their back garden, yowling and miserable until its hunger receded and its adoration for humans returned. he’d called that cat monty. this made-up cat, with a name and a backstory and a personality. sometimes it had gotten so real that he’d returned to some semblance of reality - whatever reality was when one was dead, in the underworld, waiting for a lifeline - and convinced himself that it was still happening, that he was still feeding the cat, still standing on the train, and not dead at all. he had managed to cajole his deceased mind that it was the one that was falsified.

it turned out that dying twice was a good way to wear a man down, and though he'd gotten used to it the first time around, it wasn't with the same weight as was present on his shoulders then. it felt a bit like something inside him was eroding away, had already been lost. something he used to have a lot more faith in. he didn't know what it was. maybe it was just his mojo, his capability to pull a joke from the worst situation, because even though it was possible to internalise it, all the strife, and turn it into something productive, he had been awake for only a few hours and already it felt as though he had run out of steam. he didn't know where the old orin had gone. he didn't know where to find him, or if he wanted to in the first place. the old orin had gotten him into this situation, after all. and though before, not caring came through the utterance of the words screw it followed by an impulsive or reckless decision, now it felt like a blanket of grey nothing. he wasn't interested.

some of him was very worried that this, all of this, was just an intricate ploy of his deprived mind. the feeling of falling had not gone away, but it felt a bit more like deja vu by now. even as he felt the cold against his skin, the rage that had set up camp in the hole in his chest, it felt like it wasn’t truly happening. everything seemed unreal, and worse, beneath it all was this sense that nothing was okay. nothing was fixed the way he had thought it would be. he didn’t know if he was going to be able to face it, living. it couldn’t be true, after all. people didn’t come back from the dead, did they? people didn’t return from the underworld.

real. alive.

he felt his eyes burn at that. because it was nice. it meant something. he may have made it up, concocted it for the sake of being suspended in the fantasy for a little while longer, but he didn’t think, in his heart of hearts, that he’d be so conscientious of his own needs in a world of his own creation. he didn’t think he’d actually know what he needed to hear in that scenario, and there it was. two words, three syllables, and his existence was confirmed to him. it was almost pathetic. thank you.

they had given him grief, shown him things that weren’t there through the modum of his own nightmares, and yet he retained a little fondness for them, because they were human, they were people, had been people, with lives and families and big, big plans. they cared. they had been hurt and they cared.

a little smile stretched over his face, because it was something. something nice, and welcoming, and kind, and at least they wanted him to stick around. he was their tour guide, showing them all the sights that they had missed the first trip around the sun. and he supposed that the first stop of the day, though daunting as the setting was, was the dining pavilion. hopefully, he could inhale his breakfast before too many faces popped inside.

[Kveykva]

──────── 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐳
[✦] | Oracle of Delphi | 23 | Male | Cabin 12 ➡ Cabin Circle | Tags: Open
❝ 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠❞

He didn't end up going to the infirmary. Cain made it to the door, but there were too many people. All the noise, the groaning - the children of Apollo insisted that none of the injuries were lethal, just painful, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that they might die in the middle of the night. He didn't think he could take waking up next to a corpse. Instead, he'd been given a bed in the Dionysus cabin (with Mr. D's blessing of course) since he no longer had a place to stay. Cain hadn't heard any news from either him or Chiron about what arrangement they'd have for his housing in the near future, but he imagined they'd start trying to rebuild the Big House in the next few days. After they fortified the camp's defenses from - No, no, don't think about it. Already, he had to avoid scratching at his arms through his sleeves. He did get some treatment for the frost bite, and the last thing he needed was to start aggravating that. The can of monster in his pocket was already ice-cold, which could be seen as plus from the weather, but that was about the only upside Cain could pull from all this. He cracked the top and took a shot, trying to wake his brain up as soon as possible, should Delphi decide to show him any more visions of what the world had in store for the demigods.

──────── 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦
[✦] | Horseman of the Apocalypse | 56 | Male | ➡ Morgantown, PA | Tags: Vivienne
❝ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ❞

In less than a single second, Nicholas realized instead of hoping for better, he should have been prepared for worse. He wasn't sure how he missed it; how he, somehow, didn't catch on until it was far too late. He could see Vivienne from every angle, smell the ice creeping up her limbs, and taste the fear in her blood. He could feel his own aura at its full intensity, and he could only imagine what it must feel like to the poor demigod. Oh no.

"Vivienne, Viv - you need to listen to me, it - it's okay." Nicholas did what little he could to calm her, but it became clear his words fell on deaf ears. A forced dissociative state brought on by madness. She hadn't been incinerated on sight, which was good to know, but that was something he could address later. "I need - oh no, oh God - Vivienne please -" He didn't know how to reverse it. Aside from knowing the horseman possessed a divine form, he didn't know what it consisted of or how to change in or out of it. It was something that existed somewhere in the back of his mind, in the half of his head that the horseman called home. I can't do this, I need to get her out. He didn't even know if he could accomplish that right now.

"Kayle!" Nicholas cried out desperately, flinging open the door. He felt it snap off the frame - he'd have to watch how much force he put behind his actions, apparently - and was greeted with the largest puffball of a dog he'd ever seen in his life. Rather than the vicious, snarling animal he expected, Snowdrop looked too terrified to even stand, but maintained her guard over her owner's sleeping form. All the noise was enough to pull Kayle from sleep, and after some half-asleep murmurings, the overwhelming sensation brought the girl to her senses. "Nick, what the hell?!" At least she still recognized him. "Technical difficulties. I need you to get Vivienne out of here." Kayle already vacated the bedroom, pulling on some more clothes and collecting both Snowdrop and her harness. "Don't need to tell me twice."

Five minutes had passed, and Snowdrop bolted out the front door, nearly tearing the mesh off the storm door in the process. Kayle followed swiftly after, carrying Vivienne's stiff form in her arms. Once she'd put some solid distance between them, she called back out to the overwhelming presence in the house. "What do you expect us to do now? Stand outside in the rain?" Nicholas heard a hint of indignation in her tone, and he reflexively winced. "Just - Xaliphax!" The mustang crept from its shelter, unlocking the doors for its passengers. "Get yourselves some breakfast, go shopping, I don't really care. Do whatever you need to do to get her to calm down and - I'll have something figured out by the time you get back." The deadbolts to the house locked and the shutters closed. Hopefully.

[indigo']

━━━ 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

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

Jamie hadn’t expected Aiden to be the type to sleep late, but they’d all been through a lot recently, so when he woke up in the mostly dark room and saw the shape on the other bed, he did his best to creep around as quietly as possible. It probably didn’t help that he hadn’t put his glasses on, but it wasn’t like there was much he actually needed to see besides his own bedhead. He was sitting on the end of his bed, wondering if he should wake the other boy up when he emerged from the other side of the bed, causing Jamie to let out a little yelp of fear, practically jumping out of his skin as his eyes flicked between the shape on the bed, and the figure now standing next to it. “What the flip, man? You…” he trailed off, one hand on his chest feeling the pounding of his heart beneath his shirt.

“Yeah. Hi. Morning.” The words came out in stunted beats, eyes still wide as he slowly recovered. He shook his head, let out a huff of breath and steadied himself. He reached across to the nightstand next to his bed, retrieving his glasses and putting them on. Maybe he could blame his not noticing that the shape on the bed was a heap of pillows and blankets on his crappy eyesight. Maybe he just wasn't very observant. “What were you…” His gaze dropped to the side of the bed where Aiden had apparently been hiding out before nearly giving him a heart attack, frowning slightly. “What were you doing?” It would have been nice to start the morning calmly, but he supposed it was a fitting way to start the day, get his heart prepared for the inevitable horrors to come.

[*Lovel*]

〖 ☾ 〗Ash Davis〖 ☾ 〗

Son of Hypnos ☼☽ Cabin 15 ☼☽ 17 ☼☽ Bisexual

☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆═━┈┈━═☆

Tags: Teilo
Location: Room 207

Ash nodded along to his statement "Me too, me too." normally he wouldn't be up at this hour. If by some miracle he was he'd be playing on a game too immersed to even entertain the thought of food. He signed up for this though se he couldn't justify if he complained at the moment. He thought back on last nights burger and his stomach rumbled at the mere thought. How annoying he bit his lip to take his mind off the grumbles.

"Better than you I reckon." a smirk was planted on his features. Teilo looked paler than normal almost like he had when he got sick at the restaurant. Intuition told Ash that this wasn't the same thing. Ash walked over to the son of Thanatos pushing a few stray strands of hair from his forehead to look at his bandaging and to feel for his temperature. He wasn't burning up so they had cleaned his wound well enough it seemed. Ash let his hand fall away from Teilo's forehead down to his side and shoved it in his jean pocket.

"Perhaps not. May have to use my own sand to knock me out. Got a lot on my mind." he turned and made way to his belongings not bothering to expand. Ash grabbed his own bag flinging it over his shoulder and slipped his own shoes on and was ready to head out the room whenever Teilo was. "Oh by the way they didn't say why they needed you but they mentioned wanting to join the quest." he turned to face Teilo as he slipped a paper in his pocket. "What's-" a pause "nevermind, none of my business I suppose." if it had been important Teilo would tell him."Lets go get some mediocre eats. I hope they have waffles." he opened the door, holding it for himself and Teilo.

[Kveykva]

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

Aiden stifled a laugh at seeing the way Jamie jumped, getting some level of guilty pleasure out of the experience. He didn't feel bad in the slightest, and his grin reflected that. "It's a head counselor habit." He said after Jamie recovered from the fright. Aiden bent down and grabbed the notebook, clicking on the lamp next to the bed so they'd have a bit of light in the otherwise dim room. "I kind of have to get up really early to keep a handle on my cabin, but there's usually not a whole lot to do while waiting for everyone else to wake up. I can't leave them unattended to go train so I organize plans for my training classes." He'd seen Jamie in a number of the ones he'd taught, but he'd never really gotten to know the son of Iris before this year. "I started teaching the entry-level class a few years ago, and Chiron and I would work each one into the daily schedules once I decided what they'd consist of, who I was teaching, and how long the class would be. After that, I tend to plan my days around what big things are going on. I don't really need a list to keep track of everything going on, but I like doing it. Plus, I think Mirabelle might appreciate having a list to refer back to."

──────── 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐦 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧
[✦] | Hephaestus | 18 | Male | Cabin 9 ➡ Dining Pavilion | Tags: Orin
❝ ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒❞

The morning couldn't come fast enough. And eventually, Will got tired of waiting for the sun to creep higher in the sky. Jude was still asleep, and Mateo was nowhere to be seen. Horace's bunk remained empty, and he doubted it would be long before another wayward camper claimed it as their own. It's what Horace would have wanted. The fresh air outside was a brisk change of pace from the rather toasty interior of the Hephaestus cabin, and Will was reminded of the morning before. He could only wonder what tragedy was slated for the Sabbath. After a few moments of watching his breath mist in the cold outside air, he closed the door and started getting ready for the day, and whatever it may bring with it.

There was more indecision than he wanted to admit when it came to figuring out whether or not to leave his weapon at the cabin. Against his better judgment, he left it in pieces, nestled within its case at the foot of his bunk. The cold came with a vengeance, occasional winds biting at his arms through his flannel shirt, but the temperatures weren't quite arctic enough for him to be bothered. Will didn't see too many faces out and about this early, but the dryads were in the midst of prepping an early breakfast and were kind enough to prepare a few plates for the early risers. The son of Hephaestus murmured a thank-you to them and collected one of the premade platters, not choosing today to be picky about what he ate. He'd barely turned from the table when he spotted a familiar face - far too soon after his funeral.

Will didn't want to say anything - especially in the past, Orin scared him. Not in an intimidating way, but in a loud, social kind of way. He'd always wanted to get to know the son of Zeus, but all the chatter that swarmed around him like a tempest left a quiet soul like him unable to break the clouds, to find out what was truth and what was just a tall tale. To him, Orin was one of those "larger than life" kinds of people - coming back from the dead sounded like a very Orin thing to do. Even the night before, while holding the man on the wrong end of the barrel, he wanted to believe that Orin had come back. But they couldn't afford to be vulnerable, and he wouldn't let anyone else go through that besides himself. At some point, Wilhelm got through his quailing thoughts and approached the son of Zeus. "I was plannin' t' Iris message th' questers today," he said quietly. "They don't know about what's 'appened since they left, so if y' don't want me t' tell 'em about yer death I won't. Do... y' want t' talk t' Aiden an' Mirabelle with me? I never got t' tell 'em goodbye."

[WitchHazel]

Mirabelle Everhart
|♡|17|She/Her|Aphrodite|Head Counselor|Location: Hampton Inn, 2nd Floor Hallway|Tags: Ash, Teilo|

A door opened. Familiar faces invading the hall. Damn. So much for solitude. Almost instantly, the mask was pulled up again - she had transformed from an exhausted teenager into a cheery, confident young woman. Or so all appeared. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes bloodshot and dry. The sole visual remnants of a night of lying awake staring at the ceiling. Still, she could be seen as nothing less than perfect. She had to be perfect. No room for mistakes. No room for vulnerabilities.

"Good mor-" she started, but quickly cut herself off as she heard how horrid her voice sounded. Mes dieux, I sound like a garbage disposal. That, and talking actually hurt a little. She paused, pointedly clearing her throat. The act was like swallowing shards of glass. "Sorry - morning voice." She grimaced before offering the two an apologetic look. "What I meant to say was good morning." Much clearer this time, thank the gods. She still sounded a little stuffy, but there wasn't much she could do about that without destroying her carefully applied makeup. "Ash, I forgot to mention last night - it wasn't the right time, and all, but - I really love what you've done with your hair. How did you manage to dye it in a hotel?" It was clear he hadn't slept much either but she wasn't about to bring it up. She could only hope he would do the same for her own sleepless state.


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

He was talking. He was talking, but his words weren't making any sense - they twisted and garbled themselves in her mind until there was nothing left that could be possibly recognisable as a word. Everything was screaming; sharp and disjointed. Like a million tiny shards of glass floating in her mental space.

On the outside, she had gone completely still. Her skin was deathly pale, even more so than usual. The tears streaking down her cheeks froze the minute they touched her flesh. Her eyes stared straight ahead, glassy and unresponsive. Looking at everything and nothing at once. No, not nothing. Nowhere. Nowhere, she was looking into Nowhere. The dark, ever-hungry abyss of Nowhere. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once, and it made her brain put itself through a paper shredder.

Then Nowhere was gone, but it wasn't. Nowhere was within her, haunting the edges of everything she was and ever would be. She didn't even feel herself being scooped into Kayle's arms. She didn't notice her fists closing around the fabric of Kayle's shirt; a desperate plea for something she didn't understand. Not even the rain freezing against her arctic skin pulled her from her catatonic state. Her body stiff, and yet trembling with existential terror. Herself a prisoner in her own mind.

[sammy,]

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

no such luck, apparently. not for him. never for him. it was funny in a depressing way, the fact that he always stumbled into the room with the faces he didn't want to look at, the ones that made the tightly-woven coil in his throat feel as though it was going to pull him apart, skin cell by skin cell. will was awake, and will was looking at him, and he was not looking at will, he was looking everywhere but at will. if this was a reality he had invented, then there was a chance there were new rules. he should've put the sunglasses on. wearing sunglasses indoors still felt a little too sleazy for now.

he anticipated a big bang, something similar to what had happened in the church. an internal argument, perhaps, a battle to be fought and won and lost again. that was the trouble with having fifteen different wars in his head, he supposed. he was always going to be on the losing side in some capacity. there was always going to be fallout, and it was always going to be his burden to bear. this was not what happened. instead, silence, like the sea before a tsunami. that feeling of electricity that hung in the air before a storm, humid and misty and waiting for the first thunderclap. there was nothing. he wondered if it was fear. it felt like fear. he didn't want to call it fear. he didn't like admitting it. he thought he had wiped himself of all types and then had run straight back into its open arms, an endless loop.

the room wasn't even full enough to distract himself by bothering someone else. it was just will, and orin, and this was going to happen whether he liked it or not, so it was time to suck it up and figure it out. at least he wasn't holding a gun this time. swallowing the ball in his throat, he wandered over, feigning nonchalance, and when the address came, rose his eyebrows too high. "you tell 'em whatever you want, will," he said, hanging the smile like a painting underneath his nose. "tell 'em i came back as a fish, or something. have fun with it. they're gonna find out anyway, aren't they? something's gonna tell them. if they don't find out from you, they're gonna start wondering why you hid it." shoulders up, shoulders down, and there was a shrug.

he wasn't sure he did want to. "i think i'm all goodbye'd out," he said, letting a little laugh resonate through his skin like a parasite. "not getting anymore out of me for a while, that's for sure. tell 'em i said hello, though. tell 'em it was a really impressive return. fanfare and all. really sell it. you don't have to mention the last bit if you don't want to. i mean, be a bit awkward, wouldn't it? a damp squid - squib - squid - i can never get it right. imagine that: orin got stressed to death and then came back. so i thought i'd give it a second go. unfortunately, i think that method's been annulled now. mighty powers of felix coyle inform me that i'm as fit as a fiddle, and twice as lustrous. that's a good word, isn't it? lustrous. like the moon. the moon's lustrous." just going on for the sake of proving that he could, that talking wasn't an impossibility. he was impersonating himself and doing a damned poor job of it, but it didn't matter. "goodbyes are overrated anyway. hate a goodbye. no such thing as a good bye. it's always really crap, actually, saying -" no, that was the wrong direction. he turned, looked for a change in topic. "d'you think the dryads'd let me have pepsi instead of milk on a bowl'a cornflakes? i think that's plausible. i mean, i've already freaked everyone out, might as well go the whole hog, start acting really odd."

( *:･ﾟ✦ ) xx❝xx𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐬 ！！ x─────ix ♖
x──────i ii thanatos. iii seventeen. iiii tags: ash, mira.
ivi hampton inn, room 207 - hallway.

it was almost surprising when the comment of sleeplessness came at him. a moment of analysis - teilo wasn't sure what ash's powers were, whether he could pluck the dreams he had had from the air between them. a thousand concepts sprung to mind, most notably a bizarre, dystopian fantasy that got away with him, the thought of ash pulling the vision of a sick game show from his skull and projecting it for everyone to see, beaming his decision - which remained mostly unbeknownst to him - to the rest of the questers. he hadn't wanted to choose. in the end, he didn't even have to, which made the fact he had been certain about someone even worse. "i, um -" he didn't have time to recover from the lump in his throat before it doubled in size, a hand on his skin. conscious effort was made not to flinch away. ash wasn't the problem - he just wasn't used to it. affection, in history that felt light years away, had come in the form of rough housing. it had never been light or cautious. even bruises, he recalled, had been prodded and poked at.
"it looks a bit like jack skellington. see where it's darker in those splotches? those're his eyes." and a shove and a flinch and a bat of the hand that pried into the blossoming skin had followed in rapid succession.
the memory caught him off guard. he blinked it away, like sleep in his eyes, and tried some manner of recomposure. "harder to sleep than i thought it'd be."

the sand was, he supposed, a good idea. "better a racing mind than a paralysed one," he said somewhat flippantly. the more he heard about these girls, the less he understood about what he had to do with them, but it wasn't as though he was privy to much of the information that hung in the air between the campers anyway. "right. well, we'll see, won't we?" a quick, scoping thought. "i don't know if there'll be room in the van. might have to strap someone to the roof. aggy seems like the type of person who'd be up for that."

"none of my business either," he said in regards to the letter. "i don't - i just picked it up. dunno why. sticky fingers die hard." and with the bags grabbed and everything ready, he flipped emrys in his hand, slipped it into the pocket of his jeans, and nodded. "mediocre would be a miracle."

he stepped out the door. nervous habit had him scoping the area before he was inclined to continue toward the lift, and when mira came into sight, looking like the rest of them likely did, tired and utterly unprepared for the day ahead, he rose an awkward hand. "morning," he said, almost stumbling over the word. it hadn't been the first choice of greeting, a fight against the grain of what he had had drilled into his head. "how're - i mean, um -" his mind, apparently, had sauntered away from him. that was fine. the conversation had shifted to ash's hair. he could take a back seat, let the cogs figure themselves out.