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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Nov 3, 2021 20:44:59 GMT -5
i cannot stress enough how much i regret the color scheme i like how this is literally the one post you DONT like
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Nov 23, 2021 19:17:42 GMT -5
Sarah
Abigail could always be relied upon to be a bit flighty. It was a trait that initially drew Sarah in. Sarah was so grounded. She needed a friend like Abigail to remind her (if inadvertently) to relax and let things go, sometimes. Sometimes, it was annoying, because it felt like Abi never paid any attention to what was going on around her, like in this instance. Sarah sighed, about to repeat her question, when Abigail caught on. “Weird?” The way she said it was enough for Sarah to know what she’d say before she said it. She didn’t think anything of what had just happened, but how much had she really heard or seen? She’d been busy talking with all their other half-siblings.
But as she went on, Sarah held back another sigh. Abigail was right. Regan was being grumpy, that was nothing new. But the nagging suspicion within her gut remained firmly attached, constricting her belly into nots. Abigail’s implication was somehow more disconcerting. Regan didn’t want to be friends with anybody, least of all Sam, based on what they’d just witnessed.
Sarah cracked a smile at her friend’s last comment. She did have bigger things to worry about than just babysitting her truant sister. Regan could figure that situation out on her own. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care if Regan was mean to Sam, or anyone else, but she couldn’t. She wanted her sister to be happy, more than anything. Why she was such a sourpuss these days was beyond her. It wouldn’t be fixed by today, though. They had the whole summer ahead of them. She was looking forward to scouting the campfire with Abigail, and although it was unlikely there would be anyone new, it was still good fun to poke at some of the boys. And who knew, maybe someone who had been there with them for years would suddenly catch her eye?
Her spirits didn’t raise all that much as she and Abi walked back to the table, just as Regan and Sam were getting up. As if they were trying to avoid each other. Fine by her. She wanted to think about anything else, and hopefully with the summer campers arriving soon, she would have plenty to keep her distracted.Regan
He frowned at her. Regan scoffed at this. The feeling’s mutual, buddy. But then it occurred to her that he might have been confused by the question. He was, after all, just a dumb blond boy. The unholy trinity. Still, she knew she wasn’t giving him enough credit when she heard what he had to say. Her eyes widened slightly. Sam was right about one thing: Sarah did overreact. Still, it surprised her to hear him say it. He agreed with her, on more than she would have expected. Sarah overreacts a lot, she thought, and Regan might have responded out loud, but then she thought twice about it. Talk about unnecessary. She was still her sister.
Sam seemed more down to earth than Abigail. How had she not noticed that before? He was actually acting like a realistic person. Almost smart. Almost attractive. Regan dropped her gaze as her thoughts quickly derailed. Sam’s little smirk made her catch her breath. Time to rewind. What was happening? How dare he tease her like that! Not about to let herself entertain the mere idea of liking it, Regan tried to concentrate on the other things he was doing. Twitching his foot, fidgeting with his hands near his plate. The guy’s muscles (not that he had any) looked ready to jump up from his seat, and as he glanced behind him at Sarah and Abi returning from the brazier, Regan understood why. He’s hungry.
When Sam turned and looked at her again, she wanted to scowl out of instinct. But he looked kind of… sad. Maybe that wasn’t the right word for what she saw, but she hoped it wasn’t just because he had to wait a little longer to eat, which was— guiltily, she thought— her fault. For some reason, he chose to wait. “You better earn it,” he’d said. Regan intended to do just that, whether he meant it as a challenge or not.
“Alright, yea, sure.” She hoped she sounded nonchalant, or begrudging. Cool. It was hard to tell anymore; the conversations had gotten somehow louder around them, maybe now because Abi was approaching. She had a knack for turning up the volume even if it was someone else’s voice. Regan, ignoring her sister, got up with Sam, whose eyes lit up with anticipation and glee. As they walked away from the table, Regan said, “I wasn’t interrogating you. You’d know if I was.” What was this, some kind of meet-cute? Why was she acting this way? That was something one of the older girls would say, trying to invite further conversation, which was just the opposite of what Regan wanted to do: scare him away.Peih-Gee
“Plants can be kind of rude,” Oliver tried to remedy his misstep, all while avoiding the girls’ eyes. He stammered an excuse to get up and leave the table for a moment, and Peih-gee watched him go, wondering if that was supposed to be taken as an apology. Not that he really had anything to apologize for. He was just being honest. She’d always found it was best to say nothing if she had nothing nice to say, but she would much rather spare everyone’s feelings than speak her mind, and it never failed to surprise her when other people didn’t abide by the same rules.
“I like him.” Elaina said after swallowing a spoonful of yogurt. Bee said nothing, just made a scornful face at her half-sister.
“Of course you do. He’s a jerk. You like jerks.”
“Whatever,” Elaina tossed her hair to look over at Oliver. Bee followed her gaze and was surprised and dismayed to see the boy was coming back. After that, he’s going to try again?
Elaina grinned at being called a lady. “Olivia,” she greeted, teasing in return. “You’re all right. Don’t be so nervous! Bee’s just being sensitive.” She scooped some more fruit into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully and downing it almost too quickly. “How old are you, anyway? I mean, how many years have you been coming here? There’s so many summer campers I lose track. And I can tell you’re not a people-person. Don’t like the spotlight. I get it.”
Peih-gee glared at Elaina but said nothing, playing with her fork in her eggs and pretending she wasn’t listening when of course she was.
Milo
Charlotte’s eyes met his as if daring him to say more. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. I won’t speak ever again for the rest of my life in your presence. Was he wrong, though? Milo didn’t think so, but then what was with that look? He stared back, a deer in headlights, afraid to move lest he incur her wrath for reasons unknown to him.
But then she laughed, and he could finally breathe again. She liked what he said, then. Odd. She settled back into herself, regarding him with a newfound… acknowledgement. He doubted there was any respect behind that facade, least of all for someone like him, but now he knew she saw him. He existed, and he’d apparently said something witty, so she wanted to know his name.
Milo blinked as her lips twitched into a full smile, and he fought his every instinct to recoil from her hand as it came toward him.
“I’m… Milo.” Charlotte’s grip was strong, but her skin was softer than he would have thought. He marveled at this, afterward. Why wouldn’t her hands be soft? Just look at her, she’s flawless. Thankfully, as he studied her face, she seemed to lose interest in his own acne-scarred complexion, watching as she was distracted by something— someone— else.
Not that it mattered to him. All he heard was that six-letter word. She wants to be my friend! Why this interaction was the smoothest he’d had with another person in a long time, he couldn’t fathom. Why this girl, why today, all of it shouldn’t have mattered but it did. He didn’t have time to wonder. She had to leave. For… Carro. He couldn’t help it, he frowned, looking at her with the obvious question in his eyes. Are you crazy?
Charlotte intended to go after that bully. But the kicker was that, upon being invited, Milo was inclined to join her. Gods, why? He must have hit his head some time in the night; something was seriously wrong with him if going with her was sounding better than sitting here in solitude and silence. If she was reluctant to go, then he was going down screaming, but he would never let her see that. He could be brave too. He felt he had few other choices once she’d ruffled his hair. Hoping no one had seen how pathetic that was, he jumped out of his seat to follow the tall girl from the pavilion, acting as casually as he could.
“I hope you don’t really plan on apologizing,” Milo said, taking quick steps to keep up with her. They could see Carro ahead of them, walking toward the forest edge. He bit his lip and hoped they wouldn’t have to go in there to talk to him. Carro
Without any anger to distract him, the old familiar hand of defeat crept its way around his throat, threatening to choke him. What had he gained from this summer so far? Nothing good. A wounded ego at least, but the more he ran over the scenario in his head, the more he wondered if he was overreacting. She hadn’t said anything blatantly offensive, after all. Aside from calling him ‘majesty’, Charlotte really had done nothing wrong. She didn’t apologize for running into me. Big deal. Accidents happened, and sometimes, they were his fault. But her sarcastic jab, at the end… it made him wonder.
Should he have punched her lights out for insubordination? Maybe. But she wasn’t his inferior, so it couldn’t really be called that. In fact she’d rather proved the opposite. And he didn’t hit girls unless it was a matter of fighting for his life (which had only happened twice, and that wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, yet it was strange that it happened to him more than once).
The social dynamics at this camp were unfamiliar to him, and hard to navigate: there was no clear hierarchy. He knew he held no power here. People avoided him, like because of mere stigma, and he ignored them, for the most part. Charlotte had never stood out to him until now, which meant she wasn’t some queen bee either. So what the hell?
Oh, give it a rest. He was way too tired to keep fixating on something insignificant as this. It was bothering so much, though, that the open-air pavilion felt claustrophobic, and he wasn’t paying attention as he passed between tables to get out. Carro bumped into a boy who was sitting, but leaning slightly too far into his path. His hip ran into the kid’s shoulder and nearly knocked him out of his seat. Carro stumbled and actually paused this time to study the aftermath, though maybe he should have learned from Charlotte to just keep walking.
This kid reacted the way he expected him to: with sudden terror, shrinking away from the touch and trying to make himself seem smaller than he already was. Which would be difficult since the kid was already short and thin like a twig. He went all wide-eyed and shallow breathing, an instinctive sight he was used to seeing, but this gave Carro no satisfaction. What good was it to be intimidating when you knew there was someone out there immune to it? There would now and forever be that doubt in his head. His uncle would tell him it didn’t matter. “Respect is different than fear,” he muttered his uncle’s old saying to himself as he walked away, leaving a confused pair of Aphrodite girls (shocker) and that scrawny kid stunned in his wake.
Carro made for the forest. He wouldn’t go in, just liked to listen to the sounds of the monsters inside from the safety of the sunlit hill. The serenity of the grassy meadow was all too soon interrupted, however. He could feel their hearts beating behind him, getting louder in his ears until he could no longer hear his own as they closed the distance between them. One was slow, steady like a bass drum, the other, a quick rhythm overlying the first. Why someone was following him, let alone two people, he didn’t want to know. It would have been the best possible outcome for Carro to keep going, without turning around, and anyone with any sense would agree with that. Just run into the woods, they won’t follow you there. But Carro rarely acted on sense alone.
To look behind him was to show weakness. It was basic street smarts. He did it anyway. He risked a glance, and was shocked and grated to see that dumb girl and her even dumber blond lackey coming after him. What did they want to do, rub his face in the dirt even more? He didn’t really believe this was true, but it was difficult not to be immediately hostile. Fighting his instincts, he came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the trees and turned to face them.
“What do you want?”
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Post by ɪɴᴛʀᴀɴꜱɪɢᴇɴᴛ on Dec 31, 2021 18:48:33 GMT -5
abigail
Abigail would never call herself an “expert” per se at conflict resolution, but at this moment, she felt at least a little bit knowledgeable. She watched as Sarah quickly conceded her point, the girl’s dark eyes flickering through a vast array of emotions. Sarah was funny like that, most expressive in her silence. Her dark brown eyes, framed by such long, delicate lashes, seemed like endless pools of emotions, always betraying her neutral exterior. Abi never had to guess what Sarah was really feeling. She liked that about her.
Sarah’s a really cool friend.
Abigail turned then, ignoring her brother and Regan as they passed, sitting instead a little too close to Sarah (as was usual). She dug in, ravenously, thinking of little else in that moment. She, much like her toned brother, had a gigantic appetite that seemed to only serve to fuel her mouth. After all, this girl could out talk probably Hermes or Hedylogos themselves. So, she ate in silence for a long while.
Once she had mainly appeased her appetite (as Sam and Regan slowly returned), she sat up straighter, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand. ”So, Sarah,” She began, mouth inappropriately full. At Sarah’s slight twinge of annoyance flashing in her dark eyes, Abi quickly chewed and swallowed, followed by a just as quick and sheepish grin.
”Do you think we’ll have another quest this year?” She asked eagerly, leaning in even further when she did, blue eyes glinting brighter than ever. ”Oh gods, I hope so. It’s been soooo boring lately, don’t you think? I hope I’ll get to go—“ She stopped, catching her brother’s glower and turning her gaze to her plate, quickly stuffing her face for a moment.
”Don’t you think that’ll be a bit dangerous, eh?” Chimed in Jeremiah, one of their cabin mates, from further down the table, though Abigail merely shrugged with a small grin, cheeks bulging with food. ”In’t that pa-rt of tha al-lur?” *
*”Isn’t that part of the allure?”sampson
Sampson was more than relieved when Regan relented, rising from the table with him. Gods, finally. Poor boy was certain he was going to wither away into absolutely nothing before breakfast was over. Not to mention, he needed to speak with his father, quickly. He needed to make sure to thank him for bringing him to this camp, and for the beautiful sunrise, so he didn’t think that he had abandoned Abigail since they weren’t together (for a rare moment). After all, Apollo had asked Sam to keep an eye on his kid sister (by 3 whole minutes), and Sam had agreed.
Meeting him seemed so long ago, especially now.
He turned in surprise, removed from his thoughts when Regan spoke up then. He wasn’t one to hide his emotions, so it was clear to see the shock on his face at her inviting and initiating conversation. It was very out of character for her. Although, she wouldn’t look at him, and she huffed her bangs out of her eyes with all the annoyance in the world.
Cute.
He blinked, offering a warm smile, eyes softening on hers when she finally did catch his gaze. ”Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second. Though, I do have to warn you, I’m a steel vault,” He teased, turning away to move forward to the brazier then. Was he… flirting? C’mon Sam, get it together. You’ve got to watch out for Abi, you don’t need to be looking out for anyone else.
He took a deep breath, scraping a sizable portion of his food into the brazier. Hey… Father? Too formal. Sorry. Thank you. Have a great day, and great summer, okay? Please help me take care of Abigail. He stared at the flames, eyes seeming to darken slightly as he sobered, clearing his throat. ”For Apollo.” The flames flickered brighter even than Abi’s had, the flames sparking golden and leaping out towards him invitingly. He gave a small hint of a smile, turning then to Regan. He waited patiently before leading her back to the table and digging in.
He ate quickly, only pausing to shoot a warning glance at Abigail. She doesn’t mean that, Apollo. He thought fervently, the small crease returning with worry between his brows. He did not need the stress of his sister inviting a quest upon them. Because, of course, if she went, he would go to. There wasn’t much say in the matter.
Because, as a twin, he had never been anywhere without her. He couldn’t imagine a life without her. Nor did he want to. He turned his gaze back to his food, his sunny disposition more cloudy than usual.
charlotte
Charlotte walked away from the table swiftly without a glance back. She had learned long ago that the less expectations she had, the harder it was to be let down. Better to have no expectations than to open up a possibility of the floor falling through, right? Right. She was, however, able to be pleasantly surprised when she sense Milo’s presence catching up to hers rather quickly. She gave a small, faint smile, slowing ever so slightly to allow him to catch up a little easier.
She turned her head toward him when he spoke, though her eyes remained forward steadily, her expression carefully neutral once more. ”Can I be honest with you, Milo?” She asked, quirking one eyebrow up slightly, eyes finally falling to him. She noticed the way he was practically running, and slowed her pace just a little more, to make it a little easier on her new found companion. Without waiting for an answer, she gave him a tight-lipped half smile, eyes glittering with a hint of mischief in their dark pools. ”I never have a plan.”
She moved forward then, saying nothing, studying Carro’s walk from afar. Ah, he was still angry. What a drama queen. Though, it was almost—almost—endearing. As they approached, she watched as he slowed, stealing a glance at them, and she lifted a dark hand in a half wave, smooth and non-threatening. After all, she had no hostility towards him. Just a nagging in the pit of her stomach. He’s as lonely as you are.
Stupid conscience.
As he drew to a stop, her hand instinctively hovered over her waistband where one of her daggers was tucked, eyes appraising him. As he whirled, she immediately tugged Milo to a stop then, giving them several feet of room. She pushed the boy behind her, dagger glinting coyly in the palm of her hand, head tilted as her eyes flashed with the same silvery glint. The aura around them rippled, the air seeming to darken for a moment as she became more still than a marble statue.
The air was thick enough to cut with one of her blades.
She took a deep breath then, tucking it away, turning her palm face up as she pulled Milo into her side, arm draped lightly around his shoulder moving forward. She gave a surprisingly calm, though equally inviting, smile, teeth peeking out for the first time. She doubted Carro had ever seen a ghost of her smile before, and she didn’t intend to immediately blind him. She dispersed the darkness, tapping into her blessed Mystiokinesis to try to ease some of the tension in the air.
”I could ask you the same thing. You keep trying to ignore me, but you keep poking me with your aura. It’s kind of rude,” She retorted finally. Her tone was soft and light, almost teasing, still exuding the peaceful energy, and she kept her arm firmly around Milo. She didn’t want him to get involved if this went sour, and the best way to push him away was to keep him close.
Isn’t that right, Papa.
”I think we got off on the wrong foot. I wanted to properly introduce myself,” She greeted, stretching her hand out politely then, her dark, neat, full brows raising slightly. ”I’m Charlotte, and this is Milo. You’re Carro, yes?” She tilted her head then, inviting him to take her hand, eyes glinting brightly in the sunlight. The air around them seemed to shimmer, though it was hard to ignore the waves of calm radiating off her.
When Charlotte came in peace, there wasn’t much of another option. Thanks to you, oh wondrous Mother Hecate!oliver
Oliver was certain that this Aphrodite Care-Bear Camp Counselor Miss Perfect could read minds. The way she was looking at him as he returned only set about a new wave of anxiety in this terror-riddled mind. She was looking at him as if she knew all his deepest secrets and thoughts regarding his absent mother and this stupid camp and his even stupider cabin mates/half siblings. How dare she. She has no idea what it’s like to be… me.
He swallowed his disgust, doing best to keep his expression blank when the other girl—El, was it?—piped up again. “Olivia”. The girlish nickname, although friendly in nature, did nothing more than continue to rub him the wrong way. He managed to, however, keep his expression politely neutral by digging into his meal. He raised his eyes respectfully to hers, the dark orbs surprisingly blank. It was almost … unnerving, though he hadn’t quite mastered it as effectively as someone who had it come naturally to them (looking at you, Charlotte).
He processed her statements, and opened his mouth to respond, when he was suddenly rammed into from behind. He jerked forward, turning quickly with the fury of a thousand suns. Suddenly, it was clear to see how he was a son of Demeter, with her same fiery gaze striking from dark eyes, hair seeming to stand on end for a moment. Around them, the plants prickled, thorny vines pulling free from the ground at his feet.
However, Oliver quickly found his anger stunned speechless.
He recoiled in horror, fear snaking across his face as he turned then, curling in on himself. He had never seen a man like that before. Chiseled by the gods himself, the man was staggeringly beautiful. He had dark hair, even darker eyes, and thick eyebrows, with a jawline that could slice through marble. He felt disgust in every fiber of his being, heart pounding in his little, scrawny chest. How could he be attracted to this when he looked the way he did? How was he to draw the attention of such a fine specimen, if he was nothing more than a wistful, dream of a toothpick.
The girls stared at him in shock, horror, as the man spoke. Oliver swallowed hard, ignoring the butterflies ripping through his abdomen. Gods, even his voice is heavenly. He hated it all the more. “Respect is different than fear”. The words ricocheted violently through his empty little head, and Oliver was glad he wasn’t facing the stranger so that he couldn’t see the confusion contorting his already marred features. After he disappeared, Oliver stared blankly at the table for a long, terse moment.
”Who in the hell was that? Was that… one of the gods?” He whispered, voice breathless as he struggled to even breath properly, eyes rising to ‘Bee’s’, his cheeks flushing brightly as he did.
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Post by 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 on Jan 30, 2022 1:02:14 GMT -5
Regan
She didn’t have to look at him to know she’d caught him off-guard again. See? Knew you should have kept your mouth shut. Now he’s going to be curious. She sighed, more annoyed at herself than anything as they approached the brazier. Regan looked at Sam out of the corner of her eye, because she was curious, despite herself. He was smiling again. “I’m a steel vault,” he said, and Regan found that very hard to believe. But she was done talking. She cut a portion of her waffles as Sam stepped up to the fire.
“For Apollo,” Sam said aloud, and Regan fought with every facial muscle not to roll her eyes. She half-succeeded, looking up at the sky in exasperation, but that was as far as she got when she noticed the flames, immediately flickering brightly and spraying sparks like fireworks out from the metal brazier. A golden child. Of course Sam’s dad adored him. Who didn’t?
Regan went next, but she said nothing as she swept her offering off her plate into the fire with her knife. Thanks for this obnoxious existence, Dad, she thought, but there was no real malice behind it. She was effectively stunned into emotional silence, but figured Hermes would understand. If he was really even listening, that was. They walked back to the table, where Regan could resume her slouching and sulking amidst the conversation, which as usual, revolved around Abigail.
Quests are dumb. Regan offered this contribution in her head, but minded her own business by concentrating on her food. If she behaved, maybe Sarah would leave her alone for the rest of the summer. That would be ideal. But she couldn’t help it. At Abi’s comment, Regan glanced up at Sam, and found a dark expression on his usually cheery face. He didn’t share twin’s thirst for adventure, and seemed disturbed to hear her just talking about the idea of leaving camp to go on a quest. But, she told herself she didn’t care. Not her monkeys, not her circus.
Sarah
Sam and Regan returned too soon. Of course, that didn’t stop Abigail from nearly wolfing down her entire meal before they did. Sarah managed a few bites herself, but her eyes were unfocused, looking at the table even after the other two returned. She may have looked lost in thought, but she was just zoning out, trying to give her mind a break. Things would get a lot more hectic after breakfast. Many, many more kids would show up soon and she knew that she would be asked to help some of the younger campers move in and get acclimated on their first day. Even if they’d been here a year or two before, she was sympathetic to her half-siblings’ situations: she imagined it was probably a big change for them, to come to summer camp after months at school. Then again, Hermes kids were generally more malleable than some of the other campers. She would go wherever she was needed most, and she was sure she could drag Abi along too.
Abi’s voice broke through her consciousness, and Sarah blinked, hearing her friend’s mouthful of chicken and waffles before she saw it. Turning slightly, one side of her face twitched in distaste until Abigail finished chewing before she continued with what she was going to say.
A quest. Her friend’s excitement was palpable, but Sarah just shrugged quickly, knowing she wouldn’t get a word in as Abi rambled. She was right, about camp being stale lately, but then again, it usually was until the summer was in full-swing. Sarah was inclined to dismiss the question altogether; Abigail was just antsy, but this week’s activities would be enough to keep her busy. She always wanted to go on a quest. Sarah… not so much. Last year’s quest hadn’t even sounded appealing, just a simple fetch-quest for some flower (she couldn’t even recall why, at this point)— yet one of the campers hadn’t come back from it. That was scary to her. Not to Abigail, though, she was still talking about it, until a warning look from her brother effectively shut her down, at least for the moment.
Another Apollo kid, Jeremiah, spoke as if he knew Sarah’s own thoughts. Abi was undeterred. Sarah had to smile, if a bit restrained, as she agreed with the former, “I don’t see the allure, either, Jer. Abi’s just crazy.” She paused to take a few more bites of breakfast.
“I don’t know, I kind of like the summers when there’s no quests. Nothing extra to worry about, aside from the normal stuff.” Normal, that is, for half-bloods. Now, if she could just pretend that they were all regular mortals, spending the summer at a sleepaway camp, writing letters back home each week, then life would be as close to perfect as she could imagine it being.
Peih-Gee
Oliver’s face went blank at Elaina’s string of questions. Peih-gee couldn’t tell, when she stealthily looked at him, what he was thinking. She didn’t really want to know how he was feeling, didn’t bother to try and find out with her magical gifts. She couldn’t really say the same for her sister, who was watching him intently. Bee sighed to herself, giving up on eating for the time being. She just wanted the meal to be over, but she didn’t want to leave without El, and El obviously didn’t want to give up on talking to this poor boy.
He was about to respond at last when a shadow passed by above them, nearly knocking Oliver out of his seat. It didn’t take superhuman powers to sense he was mad. Flustered, Oliver spun in his seat to face whoever bumped him, as did the girls. As soon as Peih-gee saw it was just the Hades kid, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, ready and willing to go back to ignoring his existence. Oliver’s anger was snuffed in seconds, and he physically shrunk somehow, retreating into himself with terror evident in his eyes.
El stared at Candelario, partly indignant, partly indifferent, that the tall boy was so close to them, seeing that everyone gave him a wide berth. It was just common sense. But Bee’s gaze had latched onto Oliver, taking in his reaction more than anything else, for she was bravely— or foolishly— unphased by Candelario’s presence for the most part. Even when he spoke, she was able to ignore his words. They didn’t make much sense to her, anyway, and she got the sense he wasn’t talking to any of them, though they were in front of him.
Oliver looked wide-eyed at the table, like he wished the wood would swallow him up. Bee suspected, in her inherent, child-of-Aphrodite-way, that the boy was traumatized by the event, but not in a traditional sense. He’s crushing on that guy?! Pulse increased, breathing shallow, pupils dilated…
Oliver used a swear-word, and he was comparing Candelario to one of the gods. This only solidified her observations. His cheeks are turning red! El, evidently, had come to the same conclusion. She looked like she was going to scream in excitement for Oliver, but Bee felt nothing but sorrow. Why did Oliver like him? Out of everyone, how could it be Candelario? She knew better than to ask her mother such things, love was unpredictable, but… this was something that could never be. Never should be.
As harsh as it was to think, she felt she was right. Peih-gee waved a hand frantically at Elaina to shut up before facing Oliver again. She was trying to pull a tight smile across her lips. She really just looked as horrified as the boy no doubt felt.
“Who? Him? Oh— him— that— that’s just Candelario. I—”
El cut her off, thankfully with more tact than Bee could have hoped for. Which wasn’t saying much. “I can’t believe you don’t know who that is? He’s only the meanest guy in camp. He’s never picked on you?”
Bee’s facade was crumbling into something akin to defeat. “He— He might not be mean, El. He doesn’t really talk to anyone, really.” She was nervous for Oliver for some reason, though his feelings had no effect on her personally, and it reflected in her usually smooth prose. “He’s Hades’s son.”
“Definitely not a god!” El broke into laughter at the very thought, and PG bit her lip, shaking her head. “Nope… definitely not. Anyway, El, are you done eating? I think we should get back to the cabin.” Not-so-subtly, she kicked her sister’s shin under the table to get her to take the hint. "Can you imagine? Candy, a god?" El continued, oblivious.
"Eew, Elaina, don't call him 'Candy'. You don't even know him. Come on, please, let's go get ready. I think I heard a car door, everyone will be here soon." Milo
“Can I be honest with you, Milo?” She had no idea; he would have loved nothing more. When she smiled, her eyes full of invisible stars, he couldn’t help but smile back, not failing to notice how she slowed her pace to better match his. Milo let out a huff of laughter at her confession. Somehow, he believed her. She struck him as one of those people who, as she said, never had a plan, and yet things always seemed to work out for them anyway. He might have been jealous. She was reminding him more and more of his half-siblings, all luckier and far better off than he would ever be, but any bitterness he felt was far overshadowed by admiration.
Charlotte lifted her arm suddenly as they walked, and he glanced at her, following her gaze to the boy ahead of them. Carro was looking back at them, likely just as incredulous that she was trying to wave at him as Milo was. She was persistent, but Milo couldn’t figure out why. She’d gotten him to fall for her charms fairly easily, what else could she want? That’s just… Awful, Milo. Awful. He was trying to be more confident, but this was not the vibe he was going for.
They were within throwing distance now. Carro had come to a sudden stop, but Milo wasn’t paying attention and would have gotten closer, until he felt an arm on his, stopping him short. Charlotte’s other hand hovered near her belt. Milo, as a stalk of wheat, bent to her will as she pulled him back to stand slightly behind her. A knife appeared in her hand, and Milo watched Carro face them.
He was stunned. Was she about to attack him? After all she said about apologizing? More than confused, Milo could do nothing but blink, afraid to miss something, though no one was moving. The air held about as much tension as jello did. If jello was jet-black and tasted like charcoal and made you very afraid of the girl who gave you the jello. It’s more like hell-O. He scarcely dared to breathe, until Charlotte’s muscles visibly relaxed, and she returned her blade to its hiding place.
This didn’t make him feel less afraid, not being able to see the dagger, especially when she reached for him, slinging a long arm over his shoulders and aligning his hip alongside hers. He didn’t see her smile, much too fixated on where he was standing. Though likely not her intention, he suddenly felt like a human shield, and he did not want to be here. Seriously questioning his life choices, Milo wondered for a moment if he was going blind, but then the shadows dissipated, and for a second, he felt the slightest bit of peace return. Then he saw how Carro was scowling at them.
Milo shrunk into Charlotte’s side a bit more. His blue eyes were wide, a sea of uncertainty clashing with the smoldering, volcanic shore of Carro’s gaze.
“What do you want?”
There was no way Charlotte would apologize, not with Carro looking at her like he wanted her to burst into flames. She couldn’t! He didn’t deserve it. Milo was doing his best to look tough. Charlotte’s words were a bit of a bolster, though he didn’t really understand them. Her voice was conveying her light-hearted intent, and Milo stuck his sunken chest out a bit, but he couldn’t quite change his expression, frozen in fear.
When Charlotte reached a hand out for Carro to take, Milo could have sworn he heard the entire island of New York City crumbling into the sea. Carro looked like he was ready to send them both to the center of the Earth. He was starting to get the impression that they weren’t wanted here, and Milo was about to look up at Charlotte to tell her something along the lines of ‘oh, hey, do you think that maybe we should probably leave before the son of Hades definitely decides he’s going to send us to his dad as a, I don’t know, a Father’s day gift, don’t you?’
It was strange, to feel how calm she was, when Milo himself was pretty sure he was about to pass out. It was like a fever-dream: he was shivering and sweating at the same time. But he didn’t get the chance to suggest that they walk away before the unthinkable happened.
Carro
He thought he’d controlled his tone well enough. He hadn’t spat the words at her; he meant them in as neutral a way as he could. Based on her reaction, it wasn’t enough. She swept her blond puppy behind her, as if she thought he was going to leap at the kid. That just showed how low a regard she held him in. The air crackled around them like an impending thunderstorm. He might have brushed off this offense, but he had keen eyes. He watched her hand, stealthily at her side, until it produced what he feared it might. Then he looked her in the eyes, but that didn’t mean he saw anything there.
Fine. She wants me to be the bad guy. I’ll be the bad guy. They were several feet apart. He didn’t think she would make the first move. She was trying to warn him, then. Basic intimidation tactic. Or she was goading him. As little as he wanted to admit it, it was working. Not the intimidation part. She was making him mad, but he held his ground, hands clenched into fists.
The moment held for a beat, then two, (or ten if you counted Milo’s racing heart) before Charlotte put the weapon away. A truce, yet the damage had been done. She and Milo stood side by side, and the distinctly chilling realization that he was outnumbered gave him pause. Logically, he knew the smaller boy would pose no threat in a fight. But his very presence was enough for his heart to attempt to restart the proverbial generator in his brain. To remind him that he was, as always, alone. Should he just run? It was too late for that, now.
It wasn’t until Charlotte smiled at him that he realized what she was trying to do. She’s using magic. His hands felt cold. The audacity of this girl. The scathing insults and vulgarities he usually had at his disposal did not come to him. His arsenal was empty, Charlotte herself the likely thief. Regular words would have to do.
“I’m poking you?!” Carro glared at her. “You think I’m doing that on purpose?” That sounded like she was the one with the problem, not him, after all.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” No kidding. She should get a gold star. Wait, no she shouldn’t. Gold star retracted the instant he heard her call him by his name. But not his full name. That was where she really went wrong, if she was wondering (which she probably wasn’t, that would be out of character, as far as Carro knew). He didn’t care that she was trying to offer an olive branch. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.
“Don’t call me that.” He said, his voice so steady, so eerily calm it almost sounded like he was agreeable about starting over. But then, to his credit, he jumped quicker than either of them expected him to, covering the distance between in seconds. If he’d had his sword on him, he might have drawn it. Or maybe not, we’ll never know. He didn’t have it, it was beside his bed, which may have been an oversight on a demigod’s part, but it didn’t matter at that moment. Carro came at them swinging, but to everyone’s surprise, it was Milo who was the first to react.
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He shrugged Charlotte’s arm off so he could step in front of her. He felt like he was watching his body move from above, completely out of his own control. He almost got the word ‘wait’ off his tongue before Carro’s hand came crashing down on his face. Key word: almost. He held his hands up defensively, but there was no point. There never was, but for some reason, he jumped toward the danger instead of away from it. He didn’t know what he was thinking, exactly, if anything at all, but any thought that might have existed prior to then ricocheted around his skull as bone met bone.
Milo would have been very impressed with himself for not going down after a hit like that if he’d been able to concoct a coherent idea in his soup-reduced mind. Everything in his vision went red, pain blooming like flames licking over the bridge of his nose. He felt like he was drowning alive in a pool of lava. The noise that erupted from his throat sounded like a strangled, dying fox. Part of the reason he didn’t fall, which he didn’t realize, was that he was knocked back into Charlotte. She caught him, and as he stumbled to regain his footing and comprehend what just happened, his hands shot up to cup his nose, but white dots of pain exploded over the forest at the slightest touch. He gagged at the warm, sticky sensation of blood he found running down over his lips.
He never would have imagined his first time getting punched would have felt this bad. Ah, the naiveté of youth, he thought to himself, before he squatted down, curling in on himself. His inner voice sounded whiny, and when he squeezed his eyes shut, there were the tears, now streaming down his cheeks.
Carro, on the other hand, barely winced at the dull pain in his knuckles. He did, however, take a step back when he realized what he’d done. His brow raised, surprise having taken over his anger. He hadn’t meant to hit Milo, but the kid got in the way, trying to defend Charlotte. He got what was coming. Ignoring Milo, he looked toward his true target again, steeling his resolve for another assault.
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Post by ɪɴᴛʀᴀɴꜱɪɢᴇɴᴛ on May 8, 2022 21:30:26 GMT -5
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