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by DannyBoi 1/17/2014, 8:17 amThere he was again, grabing his food and setting some aside for offering. That was pretty much all Dylan did during lunch. Eat, offering, leave. He was too wrapped up in training to care much about friends or socializing. Whenever someone would try to approach him, he would stare them down until they left. Usually this would work on anyone who came his way, but there were those few people who scared him. People like Clarisse, leader of the Ares cabin. He didn't think anyone couldn't be intimidated by her. He was just about to leave when he saw... her. The reason he was like this, the reason the word "girlfriend" wasn't in his vocabulary. It was her... Chiara.
2 posters
Ghost of Crushes Past
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
Chiara arrived at the Mess Hall with the rest of the Ares cabin, talking with her favorite half-sister Namir, while listening with one year to Lose Yourself by Eminem (the uncensored version). The daughter of Ares was wearing a black tank top printed with the words 'Trolls gonna hate', a pair of olive camo pants and combat boots. A large metal belt was wrapped around her waist, where she had sheathed Fury, her xiphos, and her three throwing knives. A strap of black cloth was tied around her forehead in the Corsican fashion, and her red hair curled down to her freckled shoulders. A line of sooty black eye-liner intensified the color of her angry green eyes, and she had lengthened her eyelashes with mascara. Make-up was not really something seen in the Ares cabin, but Chiara was adding a touch of punk/gothic about it so it didn't look at all fashionable in an Aphrodite-kind-of way. She had a collection of new scars on her freckled arms and shoulders, red-brown against her tanned skin.
Led by Clarisse, the demigod campers of cabin five took the food the nymphs would bring them. Chiara stepped over the bench and gestured at a nymph to bring her a plate of spaghetti all'arrabbiata, one of her favorite dishes. Especially at Camp, they were always perfectly spicy. She queued up behind Sherman, another one of her half-brothers and went to the brazier to dip a part of her food in it.
"Ares," she said in a clear voice and dipped a little part of her spaghettis in it. Not too much ... she didn't like her father either way. She had met him at Mount Olympus, where they had argued, she had thrown her boot knife at him and he had given it magic powers.
As she looked away, getting back to her table, she caught the look of Dylan, the son of Cratus. His skin was more tanned than usual, his black hair was a bit tousled, but his eyes were still the same intense brown. His lean body had grown some more muscles, which was not surprising, seeing how much Dylan trained. Chiara remembered when they used to do parkour together, or played some guitar, he on the normal one and Chiara on the bass. He was one of the guys with which she had had most things in common. Swordsmanship, wrestling, parkour, guitar, ... Like her, he got angry easily. Like her, he focused a lot on his fighting training -- almost exclusively on his fighting training.
She had known him for like, two years; he had come at Camp when he was fourteen. Chiara had been there ever since she was eight, but they had never really talked, they had of course met in the Arena for fighting, but apart from normal things like 'hello', they had never had a conversation, never really gotten to know each other... until that night, two months ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
Chiara had gone to the dance that had been organized on an evening by the Dionysus and Aphrodite cabin -- the two best party-making cabins of Camp. She had gone there, even though she absolutely despised the Aphrodite kids. But well, everybody at Camp had gone to the party, so she hadn't boycotted it. She had taken one of her large Ed-Hardy tops, a red one printed with a skull on fire, that would hide her small chest and emphasize her thin waistline and wide hips, as well as her freckled neck and shoulders.
With it, she had put on a tight, black skirt that went until mid-thigh, showing off her muscled, trained legs underlined by a pair of fishnet tights and black high heel ankle boots. She had wrapped a black leather belt with metal studs around her waist, passed a punk cuff bracelet on her right wrist and Vivienne Westwood ring on her left middle finger as well as small rings on the top of her ears to complete her look.
Chiara was an outgoing person, in Corsica, where she lived -- well, used to, now she's a year rounder -- she would always go to clubs with her cousin and their friends, mostly seeking out the clubs where they passed rock, metal, dubstep and rap.
She had gone to the dance floor, her eyes circled by charcoal-like eye liner and black eyeshadow that made her eyelids look like made out of black velvet, a bit of blush on her cheeks, underlining her high cheekbones and the large amount of freckles powdered across her face, her red curls stroking her pointed shoulders.
The dancefloor was already crowded when Chiara had arrived with two of her half-brothers. The music was pop, but oh well, you had to start with something. She'd rather listen to Skrillex, Eminem, Muse or Pendulum, but perhaps the music would change later.
The stroboscopes at the ceiling cast multiple light squares on the walls and the bodies of the already dancing demigods, changing the color every few seconds. Blue, green and white lasers brushed across the crowd, making geometrical figures in the air, while the loud music crashed into Chiara's ears. Without waiting, a smirk on her thin lips, she went to the dance floor, elbowed her way into the crowd, and started dancing in her own combination of rap-dubstep-street style moves.
Led by Clarisse, the demigod campers of cabin five took the food the nymphs would bring them. Chiara stepped over the bench and gestured at a nymph to bring her a plate of spaghetti all'arrabbiata, one of her favorite dishes. Especially at Camp, they were always perfectly spicy. She queued up behind Sherman, another one of her half-brothers and went to the brazier to dip a part of her food in it.
"Ares," she said in a clear voice and dipped a little part of her spaghettis in it. Not too much ... she didn't like her father either way. She had met him at Mount Olympus, where they had argued, she had thrown her boot knife at him and he had given it magic powers.
As she looked away, getting back to her table, she caught the look of Dylan, the son of Cratus. His skin was more tanned than usual, his black hair was a bit tousled, but his eyes were still the same intense brown. His lean body had grown some more muscles, which was not surprising, seeing how much Dylan trained. Chiara remembered when they used to do parkour together, or played some guitar, he on the normal one and Chiara on the bass. He was one of the guys with which she had had most things in common. Swordsmanship, wrestling, parkour, guitar, ... Like her, he got angry easily. Like her, he focused a lot on his fighting training -- almost exclusively on his fighting training.
She had known him for like, two years; he had come at Camp when he was fourteen. Chiara had been there ever since she was eight, but they had never really talked, they had of course met in the Arena for fighting, but apart from normal things like 'hello', they had never had a conversation, never really gotten to know each other... until that night, two months ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
Chiara had gone to the dance that had been organized on an evening by the Dionysus and Aphrodite cabin -- the two best party-making cabins of Camp. She had gone there, even though she absolutely despised the Aphrodite kids. But well, everybody at Camp had gone to the party, so she hadn't boycotted it. She had taken one of her large Ed-Hardy tops, a red one printed with a skull on fire, that would hide her small chest and emphasize her thin waistline and wide hips, as well as her freckled neck and shoulders.
With it, she had put on a tight, black skirt that went until mid-thigh, showing off her muscled, trained legs underlined by a pair of fishnet tights and black high heel ankle boots. She had wrapped a black leather belt with metal studs around her waist, passed a punk cuff bracelet on her right wrist and Vivienne Westwood ring on her left middle finger as well as small rings on the top of her ears to complete her look.
Chiara was an outgoing person, in Corsica, where she lived -- well, used to, now she's a year rounder -- she would always go to clubs with her cousin and their friends, mostly seeking out the clubs where they passed rock, metal, dubstep and rap.
She had gone to the dance floor, her eyes circled by charcoal-like eye liner and black eyeshadow that made her eyelids look like made out of black velvet, a bit of blush on her cheeks, underlining her high cheekbones and the large amount of freckles powdered across her face, her red curls stroking her pointed shoulders.
The dancefloor was already crowded when Chiara had arrived with two of her half-brothers. The music was pop, but oh well, you had to start with something. She'd rather listen to Skrillex, Eminem, Muse or Pendulum, but perhaps the music would change later.
The stroboscopes at the ceiling cast multiple light squares on the walls and the bodies of the already dancing demigods, changing the color every few seconds. Blue, green and white lasers brushed across the crowd, making geometrical figures in the air, while the loud music crashed into Chiara's ears. Without waiting, a smirk on her thin lips, she went to the dance floor, elbowed her way into the crowd, and started dancing in her own combination of rap-dubstep-street style moves.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Dylan was standing outside the Mess Hall, now serving as a dance floor. As athletic as he was, Dylan hated dances. It wasn't that he was a kill-joy, but that he couldn't dance. He was off beat, and regular pop music really didn't sit well with him. Talentless people trying to act like they have talent (with the help of computers and music editors) isn't music. It's a cheap way to get money. There were demigods that he knew that were at least 100 times better than any pop star like Bruno Mars or Ke$ha. But, he had put his annoyance with pop culture aside, and here he was.
He was standing at the entrance, dressed in his usual attire for any formal event at the camp. He wore black Levi's, with grey converse high-tops, and a wallet chain connected to a knife that he made from the forge earlier that week. He also was wearing a crimson red button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. To finish off the look, he had a black neck-tie with red embroidery on it. His hair was undone, on purpose, and his shirt was un-ironed. He did this to show that no matter what, he'll never conform to society. He wasn't sure if he had come up with that conclusion on his own, or it was the persuasion of Chiara that helped.
She was the only reason that he was here anyways. It was the idea of them making fun of the Aphrodite kids, pouring drinks on some random party goers, and tripping random kids throughout the night that made him agree to going. He entered the Mess Hall, with Pitbull being blasted through the speakers. He navigated his way through the sea of hormone enraged teenagers to find her, doing some complicated pop-lock to the beat. He walked up behind her, and pulled her shoulders back to his chest.
Damn those Dionysus kids, they sure do know how to throw a party, huh Chiara? He asked her.
He was standing at the entrance, dressed in his usual attire for any formal event at the camp. He wore black Levi's, with grey converse high-tops, and a wallet chain connected to a knife that he made from the forge earlier that week. He also was wearing a crimson red button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. To finish off the look, he had a black neck-tie with red embroidery on it. His hair was undone, on purpose, and his shirt was un-ironed. He did this to show that no matter what, he'll never conform to society. He wasn't sure if he had come up with that conclusion on his own, or it was the persuasion of Chiara that helped.
She was the only reason that he was here anyways. It was the idea of them making fun of the Aphrodite kids, pouring drinks on some random party goers, and tripping random kids throughout the night that made him agree to going. He entered the Mess Hall, with Pitbull being blasted through the speakers. He navigated his way through the sea of hormone enraged teenagers to find her, doing some complicated pop-lock to the beat. He walked up behind her, and pulled her shoulders back to his chest.
Damn those Dionysus kids, they sure do know how to throw a party, huh Chiara? He asked her.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
OOC:
Damn straight.
BIC:
Chiara felt two hands on her pointed shoulders as somebody pulled her back. She looked around to see Dylan, who had to scream in her ear to cover the sound of the deafening music. Even though he was one year younger than her, he was still taller than her. Everybody was taller than her, and it nerved her most of the time, because people normally cracked jokes like 'stand up Chiara!' or 'Hey look, Chiara's so short she gotta look up to look down!'.
Bunch of punks.
She nodded to Dylan.
"Yep," she yelled back. "Even though the music is kind of trash!"
It was Pitbull's newest song, La Gasolina, that the DJ from the Dionysus cabin had put on the turn tables. Most girls were dancing and screaming the lyrics of the song, especially the Apollo and Aphrodite girls, those Chiara hated. She disliked the Aphrodite girls because of their superficiality and weak combat abilities, and the Apollo chicks because she was always in competition with them as far as archery was concerned. Luckily, not many managed to shoot with their feet, like Chiara did.
She started dancing with Dylan, her back against his chest, even though the music didn't really please her; fortunately, it was almost the end of the song, perhaps something better would come. But the DJ immediately mixed in Till The World Ends, by Britney Spears. A daughter of Aphrodite and a daughter of some Muse jumped on the stage and started dancing together, until an Asian daughter of Deimos joined them.
The lasers turned yellow and red, reflected by the rotating stroboscopes as steam escaped from the stage, spreading through the crowd.
Chiara moved in rhythm to the music, her body undulating against Dylan's chest, stringing together body roll with dubstep and street style dance as she threw her hair to one side, passing a hand through it in the motion, combining her moves in a wild, spicy but flowing dance.
dannyjboy123 wrote:Talentless people trying to act like they have talent (with the help of computers and music editors) isn't music. It's a cheap way to get money.
Damn straight.
BIC:
Chiara felt two hands on her pointed shoulders as somebody pulled her back. She looked around to see Dylan, who had to scream in her ear to cover the sound of the deafening music. Even though he was one year younger than her, he was still taller than her. Everybody was taller than her, and it nerved her most of the time, because people normally cracked jokes like 'stand up Chiara!' or 'Hey look, Chiara's so short she gotta look up to look down!'.
Bunch of punks.
She nodded to Dylan.
"Yep," she yelled back. "Even though the music is kind of trash!"
It was Pitbull's newest song, La Gasolina, that the DJ from the Dionysus cabin had put on the turn tables. Most girls were dancing and screaming the lyrics of the song, especially the Apollo and Aphrodite girls, those Chiara hated. She disliked the Aphrodite girls because of their superficiality and weak combat abilities, and the Apollo chicks because she was always in competition with them as far as archery was concerned. Luckily, not many managed to shoot with their feet, like Chiara did.
She started dancing with Dylan, her back against his chest, even though the music didn't really please her; fortunately, it was almost the end of the song, perhaps something better would come. But the DJ immediately mixed in Till The World Ends, by Britney Spears. A daughter of Aphrodite and a daughter of some Muse jumped on the stage and started dancing together, until an Asian daughter of Deimos joined them.
The lasers turned yellow and red, reflected by the rotating stroboscopes as steam escaped from the stage, spreading through the crowd.
Chiara moved in rhythm to the music, her body undulating against Dylan's chest, stringing together body roll with dubstep and street style dance as she threw her hair to one side, passing a hand through it in the motion, combining her moves in a wild, spicy but flowing dance.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
The way she danced, it reminded him of highschool dances, where girls just danced to have fun instead of acting like skanks. At least, that's how he saw the "normal" high schoolers. Apperently, everyone else saw only Aphrodite kids at parties, grinding on dudes from other cabins and stuff. With Chiara, he felt normal. She was just haviing fun, and that was probably what Dylan liked the most about her, she kept things real.
He tried to follow the way her body moved, trying to go along with the beat of the music. He tried for the entire second verse, but realized that he looked like an idiot and said Forget it! I'm getting punch! He walked over to the snack table, where there was punch, chips and dip, strawberries, grape cider (because that was probably the closest any demigod here was getting to wine, beer, or any type of alcohol), and various other snacks for the demigods. He had gotten himself a glass of punch, and assumed his classic "wallflower" position on a column nearby. At parties he liked to just observe the people going. He saw the way they moved, he saw the way they sang, he so many things that you didn't see every single day. From this position, he could see what people were insecure about, and what people were confident about. He was like a fly on the wall, just watching to see what people would do. At one end of the dance floor, he saw some Apollo guys hitting on some Aphrodite girls. On the other end, he saw a couple of Hephaestus kids in the corner, probably trying to improve the strobe light machine. In the middle, an amazing array of children just having fun. Sure, there were probably groups of different cabins within the accumulated mass of kids, but as a whole, they were having fun. It reminded Dylan that they were all family... and that just made dating seem almost gross. One thing that he couldn't put his finger on was this: Who did he consider members of his "group?"
He thought long and hard about who he would consider in his group, but only one name would come up, Chiara. Chiara seemed to be all he could think about when it came to friends. They did everything together, they knew each other, she seemed perfect to him. In fact, he just might have had some feelings for her. Yea right! How about no! He said to himself. The music was loud, so no one heard him, and if anyone saw his lips moving, they'd probably assume he was singing along.
He tried to follow the way her body moved, trying to go along with the beat of the music. He tried for the entire second verse, but realized that he looked like an idiot and said Forget it! I'm getting punch! He walked over to the snack table, where there was punch, chips and dip, strawberries, grape cider (because that was probably the closest any demigod here was getting to wine, beer, or any type of alcohol), and various other snacks for the demigods. He had gotten himself a glass of punch, and assumed his classic "wallflower" position on a column nearby. At parties he liked to just observe the people going. He saw the way they moved, he saw the way they sang, he so many things that you didn't see every single day. From this position, he could see what people were insecure about, and what people were confident about. He was like a fly on the wall, just watching to see what people would do. At one end of the dance floor, he saw some Apollo guys hitting on some Aphrodite girls. On the other end, he saw a couple of Hephaestus kids in the corner, probably trying to improve the strobe light machine. In the middle, an amazing array of children just having fun. Sure, there were probably groups of different cabins within the accumulated mass of kids, but as a whole, they were having fun. It reminded Dylan that they were all family... and that just made dating seem almost gross. One thing that he couldn't put his finger on was this: Who did he consider members of his "group?"
He thought long and hard about who he would consider in his group, but only one name would come up, Chiara. Chiara seemed to be all he could think about when it came to friends. They did everything together, they knew each other, she seemed perfect to him. In fact, he just might have had some feelings for her. Yea right! How about no! He said to himself. The music was loud, so no one heard him, and if anyone saw his lips moving, they'd probably assume he was singing along.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
Chiara nodded to Dylan as he said he would get something to drink, and stayed on the dance floor for a couple of other songs. Love Somebody by Maroon 5 came, then Mirrors by Justin Timberlake, then Get Lucky by Daft Punk, which made Chiara stop for a while. She really enjoyed Daft Punk, but was disappointed by their new album, RAM. After that, the DJ put on Come & Get it by Selena Gomez, which marked the end-line to Chiara; there was no way she'd dance on that.
She elbowed herself out of the dancing crowd, interrupting several dancing couples (but what did she care) and made her way towards the bar. She spotted Dylan leaning against a column, sipping a glass of punch, and shot him a quick glance.
At the bar, Chiara ordered a glass of punch, regretting the fact there weren't any mojitos, her favorite cocktail. The combination of clear cuban rum, lime juice, mint, cane sugar and sparkling water gave her a real party feeling. As an alternative, she also enjoyed a good Bloody Mary. Vodka, tomato juice, Tabasco, pepper, Worcestershire sauce and just that squeeze of lime... delicious. Heavy, strong, but delicious. Especially when garnished with olives.
There were various kinds of punches available, even the Korean one with cinnamon, ginger and dried persimmons; Chiara had tasted it once, at a previous party, and didn't like it. There was also the Mexican punch; Chiara briefly hesitated over it because it contained tequila, but decided against it in the end since it was too sweet.
She finally chose a cup of Chile punch garnished with peach dices and a slice of lime then took a sip of it to appreciate its savor. Strong but lightly sweet, it had a piquant aftertaste.
Chiara brushed a wild curl back and drank some more, and saw Dylan gazing at the crowd with intense brown eyes. She took another moment to look at him, caught his gaze then stalked over to him in her high heel ankle boots. Now, with the ten additional centimeters of heels, she was almost as tall as him.
"Cheers," she said and made her glass tinkle against his, before taking another sip of the liquor.
A group of popular chicks from various cabins (Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Dionysus, Nike, Tyche and Iris) passed next to them and shot Chiara disgusted glances because of her slightly ragged Ed-Hardy top and punk jewelry. Most of them were wearing a variety of short silk or lace dresses in the nuances of pink, lilac, blossom red or gold, decorated with sequins and shiny spangles. Glitter dust shimmered on their faces, emphasizing their showy make-up. Even their stilettos were spangled, and the heels were so high that they made Chiara's ten-centimeters look ridiculous.
The daughter of Ares scowled at them, giving them her signature stare.
"L*via," she cussed in Corsican as they walked away, before looking back at Dylan. "I wish they'd keep away for some," she told him. "Can't breathe with all this perfume around."
She elbowed herself out of the dancing crowd, interrupting several dancing couples (but what did she care) and made her way towards the bar. She spotted Dylan leaning against a column, sipping a glass of punch, and shot him a quick glance.
At the bar, Chiara ordered a glass of punch, regretting the fact there weren't any mojitos, her favorite cocktail. The combination of clear cuban rum, lime juice, mint, cane sugar and sparkling water gave her a real party feeling. As an alternative, she also enjoyed a good Bloody Mary. Vodka, tomato juice, Tabasco, pepper, Worcestershire sauce and just that squeeze of lime... delicious. Heavy, strong, but delicious. Especially when garnished with olives.
There were various kinds of punches available, even the Korean one with cinnamon, ginger and dried persimmons; Chiara had tasted it once, at a previous party, and didn't like it. There was also the Mexican punch; Chiara briefly hesitated over it because it contained tequila, but decided against it in the end since it was too sweet.
She finally chose a cup of Chile punch garnished with peach dices and a slice of lime then took a sip of it to appreciate its savor. Strong but lightly sweet, it had a piquant aftertaste.
Chiara brushed a wild curl back and drank some more, and saw Dylan gazing at the crowd with intense brown eyes. She took another moment to look at him, caught his gaze then stalked over to him in her high heel ankle boots. Now, with the ten additional centimeters of heels, she was almost as tall as him.
"Cheers," she said and made her glass tinkle against his, before taking another sip of the liquor.
A group of popular chicks from various cabins (Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Dionysus, Nike, Tyche and Iris) passed next to them and shot Chiara disgusted glances because of her slightly ragged Ed-Hardy top and punk jewelry. Most of them were wearing a variety of short silk or lace dresses in the nuances of pink, lilac, blossom red or gold, decorated with sequins and shiny spangles. Glitter dust shimmered on their faces, emphasizing their showy make-up. Even their stilettos were spangled, and the heels were so high that they made Chiara's ten-centimeters look ridiculous.
The daughter of Ares scowled at them, giving them her signature stare.
"L*via," she cussed in Corsican as they walked away, before looking back at Dylan. "I wish they'd keep away for some," she told him. "Can't breathe with all this perfume around."
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Dylan waited until the girls were out of his vocal range and became too preoccupied with dancing to hear what he was about to say. He was cautious because of some of the things the girls from those cabins could do to you. Dylan had heard that once the Stoll brothers, Connor and Travis, tried to play a prank on the Aphrodites and those chicks got them back good. He didn't want to end up with any curses on him, so he usually steered clear from saying anything that could tick them off.
He turned to Chiara and said Oh now you smell it? I could smell it from outside. That stuff could knock out any one normal for weeks. The smell of hellhound feces was more appealing to the nose than all of their fumes mixed together. Well at least i showered in water. What did they bathe in? Harpy urine? Dylan thought to himself. He brushed his fingers through his shoulder-length, wavy hair, thinking about how they would look bathing in harpy urine… how they'd look bathing… how they'd look…
He shook that thought off. No, I can't think perverted thoughts. Then I'll become Ozzy. This sh*t music must be getting to me. To Dylan, the definition of "Idiot" said "see: Oswald or Ozzy." Dylan couldn't stand him at all. But, tonight wasn't about Ozzy, it was about Chiara. As the speakers bounced with Sage the Gemini's Gas Pedal, (censored, like anything else was allowed) he called it quits. That was the last he could stand. It was annoying enough that half the songs there were sh*t, but this one constantly saying "gas pedal" at least twenty times throughout the song, he wanted to punch whoever gave the DJ this list of music. He'd easily blast dub step icons like Tristam, Deadmau5, Skrillex, he'd even tolerate Zedd. But this, shattered his last nerve.
He wanted to leave. The lights were giving him a headache, all the people trying to dance at the same time was becoming uncomfortable, and his punch tasted like someone had spiked it with something. He was done with the dance, and come back when the songs slowed down. He knew Chiara didn't like this party either, so it seemed like she'd go along with his upcoming plan. He then said Real quick, do you want to blow this or what? The camp's gonna be vacant, so we can do what ever we want. Whatcha say? He stuck out his hand, a gesture he used to say "Do you trust me?" and waited for her reaction.
ooc: whatcha is a real word. I've gotten complaints before, but it's real. Ozzy is another character of mine.
He turned to Chiara and said Oh now you smell it? I could smell it from outside. That stuff could knock out any one normal for weeks. The smell of hellhound feces was more appealing to the nose than all of their fumes mixed together. Well at least i showered in water. What did they bathe in? Harpy urine? Dylan thought to himself. He brushed his fingers through his shoulder-length, wavy hair, thinking about how they would look bathing in harpy urine… how they'd look bathing… how they'd look…
He shook that thought off. No, I can't think perverted thoughts. Then I'll become Ozzy. This sh*t music must be getting to me. To Dylan, the definition of "Idiot" said "see: Oswald or Ozzy." Dylan couldn't stand him at all. But, tonight wasn't about Ozzy, it was about Chiara. As the speakers bounced with Sage the Gemini's Gas Pedal, (censored, like anything else was allowed) he called it quits. That was the last he could stand. It was annoying enough that half the songs there were sh*t, but this one constantly saying "gas pedal" at least twenty times throughout the song, he wanted to punch whoever gave the DJ this list of music. He'd easily blast dub step icons like Tristam, Deadmau5, Skrillex, he'd even tolerate Zedd. But this, shattered his last nerve.
He wanted to leave. The lights were giving him a headache, all the people trying to dance at the same time was becoming uncomfortable, and his punch tasted like someone had spiked it with something. He was done with the dance, and come back when the songs slowed down. He knew Chiara didn't like this party either, so it seemed like she'd go along with his upcoming plan. He then said Real quick, do you want to blow this or what? The camp's gonna be vacant, so we can do what ever we want. Whatcha say? He stuck out his hand, a gesture he used to say "Do you trust me?" and waited for her reaction.
ooc: whatcha is a real word. I've gotten complaints before, but it's real. Ozzy is another character of mine.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
OOC: I have no complaints about the word 'whatcha' ;)
BIC: "Oh now you smell it? I could smell it from outside. That stuff could knock out any one normal for weeks."
Chiara laughed at that. Sure enough, it seemed the popular chicks had a natural perfume aura that would make anybody in a perimeter of ten meters choke their lungs out. When she was younger, like eleven or twelve, she would sometimes put on a breathing mask on her face when she had to go to the Aphrodite cabin or pinch her nose every time she passed next to a popular girl.
She also disliked those popular chicks because they were hard to bully. At her school in Corsica, she was among the group of thug boys who usually went skating or doing BMX instead of going to the lessons, tagging buildings in the evening and going at night into the maquis, a type of high ground covered with scrub growth. It was very easy to get lost in the maquis, so they weren't afraid of being followed.
They were also the guys who always sat at the back of the classroom, throwing random stuff at the teacher and bullying people in the breaks. Being the daughter of Ares, Chiara always picked fights with people, and often with popular chicks. The problem was, her group of friends liked the populars because they were kind of the only girls they could date, so obviously, they didn't like Chiara hitting and insulting them.
But she didn't care.
She did it nonetheless.
Dylan passed his fingers through his hair, and suddenly stuck out his hand.
"Real quick, do you want to blow this or what? The camp's gonna be vacant, so we can do what ever we want. Whatcha say?"
Chiara let a grin spread on her freckled face. Her green eyes flashed mischief.
"You're the boss, man," she said and grabbed his hand.
She turned on her heels and headed towards the exit, finishing her cocktail as she did so. The vague taste of alcohol burnt on her tongue and in her throat, but it made her only more adventurous. Sure enough, she knew her limits with alcohol. She wasn't getting drunk.
When they were out and she had finished her drink, she just threw the glass away. She heard a noise of shattered glass but didn't give it a second thought. She didn't care, and throwing glasses like that felt good. In Russian bars, you were often given a small glass of vodka, and when you had finished it, you just threw it behind you and it shattered against the wall. Those guys must have a strong budget, they probably bought hundreds of thousands of glasses.
From the dance floor, they wandered down to the Lake, and past that to the Amphitheater.
"Whatcha wanna do?" she asked. "Any plans in mind? We could tag the Aphrodite or Apollo cabin. Make some mess in the Demeter cabin, or see what we can do about the Hermes one?" She smirked. "Or do you have a better idea?"
BIC: "Oh now you smell it? I could smell it from outside. That stuff could knock out any one normal for weeks."
Chiara laughed at that. Sure enough, it seemed the popular chicks had a natural perfume aura that would make anybody in a perimeter of ten meters choke their lungs out. When she was younger, like eleven or twelve, she would sometimes put on a breathing mask on her face when she had to go to the Aphrodite cabin or pinch her nose every time she passed next to a popular girl.
She also disliked those popular chicks because they were hard to bully. At her school in Corsica, she was among the group of thug boys who usually went skating or doing BMX instead of going to the lessons, tagging buildings in the evening and going at night into the maquis, a type of high ground covered with scrub growth. It was very easy to get lost in the maquis, so they weren't afraid of being followed.
They were also the guys who always sat at the back of the classroom, throwing random stuff at the teacher and bullying people in the breaks. Being the daughter of Ares, Chiara always picked fights with people, and often with popular chicks. The problem was, her group of friends liked the populars because they were kind of the only girls they could date, so obviously, they didn't like Chiara hitting and insulting them.
But she didn't care.
She did it nonetheless.
Dylan passed his fingers through his hair, and suddenly stuck out his hand.
"Real quick, do you want to blow this or what? The camp's gonna be vacant, so we can do what ever we want. Whatcha say?"
Chiara let a grin spread on her freckled face. Her green eyes flashed mischief.
"You're the boss, man," she said and grabbed his hand.
She turned on her heels and headed towards the exit, finishing her cocktail as she did so. The vague taste of alcohol burnt on her tongue and in her throat, but it made her only more adventurous. Sure enough, she knew her limits with alcohol. She wasn't getting drunk.
When they were out and she had finished her drink, she just threw the glass away. She heard a noise of shattered glass but didn't give it a second thought. She didn't care, and throwing glasses like that felt good. In Russian bars, you were often given a small glass of vodka, and when you had finished it, you just threw it behind you and it shattered against the wall. Those guys must have a strong budget, they probably bought hundreds of thousands of glasses.
From the dance floor, they wandered down to the Lake, and past that to the Amphitheater.
"Whatcha wanna do?" she asked. "Any plans in mind? We could tag the Aphrodite or Apollo cabin. Make some mess in the Demeter cabin, or see what we can do about the Hermes one?" She smirked. "Or do you have a better idea?"
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Dylan was thinking it over. He thought of at least twenty things that they could do. As much fun as tagging the Aphrodite cabin sounded, he knew that they'd know who it was. The Aphrodites blame Chiara and him for everything, even though they wouldn't be in the general area. He didn't want Chiara to get in trouble, so he'd try to keep them out of it as much as he could. She was his best friend, and friends stick out for each other. But, there were nights, like tonight, where he'd forget about being in trouble, and do something reckless.
He walked down the hill and slowly, but surely, regained his sanity. The music slowly faded into the background, and his thoughts cleared. The cool, midsummer's night breeze was gently blowing, cooling his body from being in the sauna known as the dance floor. The leaves rustling in that same breeze gave an almost mesmerizing feel to the night. The full moon showed, guiding the perfect natural light for him, and the crunch of the grass under his feet was much more enjoyable than usual. For once, he enjoyed the silence for what it was.
But, that had to end. After all, he and Chiara were going to do something fun. The possibilities came to him like water bursting out of a dam. They could put a bottle of tequila in the Dionysus cabin with a tag that says "To my favorite." Of course, Mr. D would find out and figure out who did it. Or they could take everyone's wallets and stuff them in the Hermes cabin. But, that would take way too long, and they had about an hour to do this.
Then, Dylan's perfect idea came to him as he was walking by the climbing wall. The way the lava glowed made him think about doing something to the Aphrodites' cosmetics. That made the gears turn, and turned the lightbulb on. As they made it out of earshot from the mess hall, he turned to Chiara and told her the outline of his ingenious plan.
We could, i don't know, burn their make-up. I know that the stuff they're using probably isn't your average stuff. If anything, it has some pretty dangerous, more preferably combustable, materials that could result in a fire. This fire could be easily pointed to the cabin across from them, Hephaestus, and no one would get hurt. Well, no one would get hurt badly, that is. But, the plan would have to be executed perfectly. Any ideas on how this could work?
He walked down the hill and slowly, but surely, regained his sanity. The music slowly faded into the background, and his thoughts cleared. The cool, midsummer's night breeze was gently blowing, cooling his body from being in the sauna known as the dance floor. The leaves rustling in that same breeze gave an almost mesmerizing feel to the night. The full moon showed, guiding the perfect natural light for him, and the crunch of the grass under his feet was much more enjoyable than usual. For once, he enjoyed the silence for what it was.
But, that had to end. After all, he and Chiara were going to do something fun. The possibilities came to him like water bursting out of a dam. They could put a bottle of tequila in the Dionysus cabin with a tag that says "To my favorite." Of course, Mr. D would find out and figure out who did it. Or they could take everyone's wallets and stuff them in the Hermes cabin. But, that would take way too long, and they had about an hour to do this.
Then, Dylan's perfect idea came to him as he was walking by the climbing wall. The way the lava glowed made him think about doing something to the Aphrodites' cosmetics. That made the gears turn, and turned the lightbulb on. As they made it out of earshot from the mess hall, he turned to Chiara and told her the outline of his ingenious plan.
We could, i don't know, burn their make-up. I know that the stuff they're using probably isn't your average stuff. If anything, it has some pretty dangerous, more preferably combustable, materials that could result in a fire. This fire could be easily pointed to the cabin across from them, Hephaestus, and no one would get hurt. Well, no one would get hurt badly, that is. But, the plan would have to be executed perfectly. Any ideas on how this could work?
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
OOC: Sorry for the short post, I'm on my phone.
BIC: Chiara smirked. On the Halloween dance, she and Namir, her favorite half-sister, had decided to dress as White Walkers from the series Game of Thrones; to do that they had had to take pieces of cloth to symbolize lumps of dangling flesh, and had had the idea to pay cabin ten a visit, cutting through their fashionable designer clothes and spilling their make-up into their trunks. Another prank on that cabin? She was all for it.
The Aphrodite kids would probably guess it had been her, but there again, loads of people played pranks on cabin ten. They were as safe as everybody else.
However, burning make-up sounded dangerous.
"I like your plan but there's one problem: burning make-up is a bit like burning plastic, it releases toxic gas." She bit her lip as she tried to find a solution. "What we can do though is ruin their make-up. We can go to the Arts and Crafts room to take some paint and spill this into their mascara, lip stick, nail polish, shampoo and perfume."
She gave Dylan a savage grin.
"Whatcha say?"
BIC: Chiara smirked. On the Halloween dance, she and Namir, her favorite half-sister, had decided to dress as White Walkers from the series Game of Thrones; to do that they had had to take pieces of cloth to symbolize lumps of dangling flesh, and had had the idea to pay cabin ten a visit, cutting through their fashionable designer clothes and spilling their make-up into their trunks. Another prank on that cabin? She was all for it.
The Aphrodite kids would probably guess it had been her, but there again, loads of people played pranks on cabin ten. They were as safe as everybody else.
However, burning make-up sounded dangerous.
"I like your plan but there's one problem: burning make-up is a bit like burning plastic, it releases toxic gas." She bit her lip as she tried to find a solution. "What we can do though is ruin their make-up. We can go to the Arts and Crafts room to take some paint and spill this into their mascara, lip stick, nail polish, shampoo and perfume."
She gave Dylan a savage grin.
"Whatcha say?"
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Ooc: its fine, I always use my phone
Bic: Let's get to it. How about you grab the makeup and I grab the paint. He said. He didn't mean to sound sexist in sending the girl to go get the makeup, he just didn't know half of the things she listed. He went off towards Arts and Crafts and said to her When you have the makeup, wait for me in the cabin. Then it'll get fun.
He got to Arts and Crafts and looked around for some paints. The building was dimly lit. With only the light of the moon to guide Dylan through there, seeing clearly was a considerable challenge. He manuvered his way through unfinished works of art, marble sculptures, and a pile of junk glued together. Ugh, modern art. He thought. He then, carelessly, tripped over a big white tub that said "PAINTS" in bold black letters. Well now, wasn't that easy? He said quietly to himself. He opened the lid, and saw the vast colors and types of paints. From acryllic to water color, all types of paint were there. He pulled out some reds, pinks, peach, tan, and yellows to match the colors of makeup those girls probably would have. Then, he grabbed a canvas bag from a nearby table and threw them all in there. Now I have to get to the cabin, and fast. He said to himself as he ran out.
Bic: Let's get to it. How about you grab the makeup and I grab the paint. He said. He didn't mean to sound sexist in sending the girl to go get the makeup, he just didn't know half of the things she listed. He went off towards Arts and Crafts and said to her When you have the makeup, wait for me in the cabin. Then it'll get fun.
He got to Arts and Crafts and looked around for some paints. The building was dimly lit. With only the light of the moon to guide Dylan through there, seeing clearly was a considerable challenge. He manuvered his way through unfinished works of art, marble sculptures, and a pile of junk glued together. Ugh, modern art. He thought. He then, carelessly, tripped over a big white tub that said "PAINTS" in bold black letters. Well now, wasn't that easy? He said quietly to himself. He opened the lid, and saw the vast colors and types of paints. From acryllic to water color, all types of paint were there. He pulled out some reds, pinks, peach, tan, and yellows to match the colors of makeup those girls probably would have. Then, he grabbed a canvas bag from a nearby table and threw them all in there. Now I have to get to the cabin, and fast. He said to himself as he ran out.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
"All the make-up? Mate, I'd need a container!" she said with a grin, frowning, then shrugged. "Okay, see you in cabin ten then."
She clasped his hand in a boyish way and turned around, getting down the smooth hill towards the cabins. It wasn't long until she arrived there, her high heels making nearly no noise on the grass; the silence was eerie, underlined by just a wisp of pop music from the dance floor which she would catch every few minutes depending on where she was. The wind blew her flaming red curls into her freckled face as she walked, and she breathed the cool night air in; it seemed the fresh molecules purified her lungs, leaving nothing but a soft pain behind.
Her nose and lungs were aggressed though as she entered a perimeter of five meters around the Aphrodite cabin: designer perfume fragrances took her by the throat and she choked, her eyes watering. There should be a law on having to wear a gas mask around here.
Nobody was in the Aphrodite cabin -- of course, all of them were either at the dance or somewhere else with their dates. Chiara had free room.
There were many daughters of Aphrodite so using the paint on all of them would prove quite long and difficult, perhaps they should cut down to no more than fifteen. She went to the first best bunk and opened the wooden trunk; the painted name indicated 'Bella'.
Like Bella Swan from Twilight.
Ew.
Definitely that one.
She roamed in it for a couple of moments, putting chaos into the neatly folded clothes before finding the make-up bag. Tucking it under one arm, she closed the trunk and went to the next. When she had as many make-up bags as she could carry, she went back out and sat down on the steps of the cabin, her eyes getting accustomed to the darkness. Soon, she could make out Dylan's silhouette and raised a hand.
"Over here," she said. "I've got as much as I could take."
She clasped his hand in a boyish way and turned around, getting down the smooth hill towards the cabins. It wasn't long until she arrived there, her high heels making nearly no noise on the grass; the silence was eerie, underlined by just a wisp of pop music from the dance floor which she would catch every few minutes depending on where she was. The wind blew her flaming red curls into her freckled face as she walked, and she breathed the cool night air in; it seemed the fresh molecules purified her lungs, leaving nothing but a soft pain behind.
Her nose and lungs were aggressed though as she entered a perimeter of five meters around the Aphrodite cabin: designer perfume fragrances took her by the throat and she choked, her eyes watering. There should be a law on having to wear a gas mask around here.
Nobody was in the Aphrodite cabin -- of course, all of them were either at the dance or somewhere else with their dates. Chiara had free room.
There were many daughters of Aphrodite so using the paint on all of them would prove quite long and difficult, perhaps they should cut down to no more than fifteen. She went to the first best bunk and opened the wooden trunk; the painted name indicated 'Bella'.
Like Bella Swan from Twilight.
Ew.
Definitely that one.
She roamed in it for a couple of moments, putting chaos into the neatly folded clothes before finding the make-up bag. Tucking it under one arm, she closed the trunk and went to the next. When she had as many make-up bags as she could carry, she went back out and sat down on the steps of the cabin, her eyes getting accustomed to the darkness. Soon, she could make out Dylan's silhouette and raised a hand.
"Over here," she said. "I've got as much as I could take."
Last edited by Morgan Landry on 2/11/2014, 3:33 am; edited 1 time in total
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
ooc: sorry for the short posts. snow has been messing with the power in my area.
bic: Dylan saw Chiara's silhouette in the distance. Her hand was raised, so that meant something good. If her hands were waving frantically, then they'd be in trouble. He started running towards her, all the glass paint containers clinking together in the bag as he was. He didn't want to break any of the containers, so he slowed down the closer he got to the base of the cliff. If he had broken them, then he'd have to answer to whoever was in charge of arts and crafts, and getting in trouble wasn't on his priority list at the moment.
When she was within ear-shot, he said Okay, let's see what we have. Remember, just enough paint to mess with them, not the entire jar. He said. When he was next to her, he squatted down, and emptied the contents onto the grass. He sorted them by color order, reds on the front of the line and purple at the end. He then uncapped them, looked up, and said Could you pass me one of those makeup bags?
bic: Dylan saw Chiara's silhouette in the distance. Her hand was raised, so that meant something good. If her hands were waving frantically, then they'd be in trouble. He started running towards her, all the glass paint containers clinking together in the bag as he was. He didn't want to break any of the containers, so he slowed down the closer he got to the base of the cliff. If he had broken them, then he'd have to answer to whoever was in charge of arts and crafts, and getting in trouble wasn't on his priority list at the moment.
When she was within ear-shot, he said Okay, let's see what we have. Remember, just enough paint to mess with them, not the entire jar. He said. When he was next to her, he squatted down, and emptied the contents onto the grass. He sorted them by color order, reds on the front of the line and purple at the end. He then uncapped them, looked up, and said Could you pass me one of those makeup bags?
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
Chiara tossed him one before choosing a bottle of green paint and picking it up. It was heavy with gooey green color whose acrid smell brought back memories of her art class in Corsica. Chiara didn't like painting, but she was good at drawing and tattooing with black and red henna; she usually did skull art and anything gory-themed or weapon-related. Several of the more combative demigods at Camp Half-Blood sometimes asked her to draw a temporary tattoo on their back or shoulder.
She took the first best make-up bag and retrieved the shampoo from it. It was a pearly pink Dessange bottle that read 'Lisse Absolu' - oh this must belong to a French person, Chiara thought. Luckily enough, she hated France, and didn't consider herself French even though she was half Breton, half Corsican. Sometimes she wanted to break her identity card because of the nationality on it.
The shampoo smelled of apricot and something else she couldn't identify; Chiara unscrewed the cap and squeezed a knob of green paint into it, then closed it again and shook it several times. When she opened it again, she saw that the formerly white shampoo had now a very light greenish color to it. Not enough, she thought and pressed three more pats of paint into the shampoo bottle. She shook it again and when she opened it she saw it was a light shade of green. Perfect.
She put the green color down and chose a pink color, which she pressed into a bottle of Yves-Saint-Laurent perfume.
OOC: No problem ;)
She took the first best make-up bag and retrieved the shampoo from it. It was a pearly pink Dessange bottle that read 'Lisse Absolu' - oh this must belong to a French person, Chiara thought. Luckily enough, she hated France, and didn't consider herself French even though she was half Breton, half Corsican. Sometimes she wanted to break her identity card because of the nationality on it.
The shampoo smelled of apricot and something else she couldn't identify; Chiara unscrewed the cap and squeezed a knob of green paint into it, then closed it again and shook it several times. When she opened it again, she saw that the formerly white shampoo had now a very light greenish color to it. Not enough, she thought and pressed three more pats of paint into the shampoo bottle. She shook it again and when she opened it she saw it was a light shade of green. Perfect.
She put the green color down and chose a pink color, which she pressed into a bottle of Yves-Saint-Laurent perfume.
OOC: No problem ;)
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Doing opened the makeup bag and pulled out a small jar. It was a small bottle of conditioner, and it smelled of coconuts. He unscrewed the cap and look inside and saw a white thick substance. He grabbed to the pink paint and don't to the contents of it into the jar. He then screwed the cap back on, grab a bottle of perfume, and dumped a thinner paint into the bottle. He and Ciara did this to 10 more bags of Cosmetics. In the end, they had emptied 20 jars of paint in total all of various different colors and textures. Needless to say they were proud of what they did and enjoyed it.
Allright, I'm going to take these back to Arts and Crafts, while you put the bags in their original places. See you soon. He said. He put the empty bottles back in the canvas bag, and ran back to Arts and Crafts. He opened the door so quickly and violently that, without knowing, he knocked over a sculpture that someone was working on, a marble bust of the Mona Lisa. He gasped, and tried to put it back together. He found all of the large and major pieces, but couldn't hold them together. He looked around for the bin labelled "GLUE" and found it underneath of the bin marked "CHARCOAL." He pulled off the lid and looked frantically for something that he could use. Then he found it. A tub of glue that read "MOUNT OLYMPUS MARBLE GLUE." This would work perfectly.
He put the sculpture back together, hoping that no one would notice, and continued to put the empty paint containers in the tub marked "PAINTS." After he was finished, he put the canvas bag back where he found it, made sure that nothing was missing or broken, and left Arts and Crafts. When he closed the door, he turned and saw the lights in the distance go from multicolored to plain white. That meant the DJ was announncing that something was happening, either the last song of the night, or that the dance was over. Either way, he and Chiara had no time left.
Allright, I'm going to take these back to Arts and Crafts, while you put the bags in their original places. See you soon. He said. He put the empty bottles back in the canvas bag, and ran back to Arts and Crafts. He opened the door so quickly and violently that, without knowing, he knocked over a sculpture that someone was working on, a marble bust of the Mona Lisa. He gasped, and tried to put it back together. He found all of the large and major pieces, but couldn't hold them together. He looked around for the bin labelled "GLUE" and found it underneath of the bin marked "CHARCOAL." He pulled off the lid and looked frantically for something that he could use. Then he found it. A tub of glue that read "MOUNT OLYMPUS MARBLE GLUE." This would work perfectly.
He put the sculpture back together, hoping that no one would notice, and continued to put the empty paint containers in the tub marked "PAINTS." After he was finished, he put the canvas bag back where he found it, made sure that nothing was missing or broken, and left Arts and Crafts. When he closed the door, he turned and saw the lights in the distance go from multicolored to plain white. That meant the DJ was announncing that something was happening, either the last song of the night, or that the dance was over. Either way, he and Chiara had no time left.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
"Yep."
Chiara got back into the Aphrodite cabin, carrying the make-up bags in her arms. She had some green and red paint on her fingers, now dry, but it didn't bother her; if it did, she would find the way of washing them clean soon enough. As she beheld all the trunks in front of her, she realized she had no idea which bag belonged in which trunk. She could only recall Bella's because it was the first she had opened (and in addition, the make-up bag was of an unforgettably hideous pink shade), so she carelessly tossed that one into it's appropriate trunk, but for the rest, she just did it randomly, not caring whether she had originally taken the bag from that precise chest, she just went on with it until she had two bags left.
Aphrodite girls were often those to linger, either with their dates or organizing an after-party. Some though were different than others, and might be there earlier, so she may have to speed up and get out quickly.
Chiara had just finished when she heard steps on the little stairs that led to the door and froze.
The wooden panel creaked open slowly and a young girl came in, perhaps two years younger than Chiara.
Dammit, she thought, and tried to disappear as noiselessly as possible into the bathroom.
She felt the girl freeze as well.
"Anybody there?" she heard her ask, before switching the light on. The fear in her voice was palpable, and Chiara fought down a snicker. Really, how old was she to be afraid in the dark?
Fortunately enough, the bathroom had a window, which Chiara easily opened -- it made a scraping sound as it did, but it was unlikely the other girl had heard it -- before taking her shoes off and jumping out with the agility of a street cat. If she had done that with her ankle boots, the impact would have most probably drawn fissures in the heel, something she didn't particularly want.
She slid her shoes back on and made for the Arts and Crafts room; the night air was starting to grow really cold, covering her freckled arms in gooseflesh.
At half-way, she spotted Dylan, and withdrew in the shadows. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about him in the past weeks, yet Dylan had always been reserved about his feelings and she didn't want to go head first into a knock back. She really couldn't afford it in her situation.
Her heart clenched painfully and she felt like crumbling down again. No, not now, not with Dylan near me, she thought. She did her best to steel herself and realized Dylan had already walked past her; silent as a panther, she followed him before suddenly grabbing both his shoulders.
"Mission accomplished," she whispered.
Chiara got back into the Aphrodite cabin, carrying the make-up bags in her arms. She had some green and red paint on her fingers, now dry, but it didn't bother her; if it did, she would find the way of washing them clean soon enough. As she beheld all the trunks in front of her, she realized she had no idea which bag belonged in which trunk. She could only recall Bella's because it was the first she had opened (and in addition, the make-up bag was of an unforgettably hideous pink shade), so she carelessly tossed that one into it's appropriate trunk, but for the rest, she just did it randomly, not caring whether she had originally taken the bag from that precise chest, she just went on with it until she had two bags left.
Aphrodite girls were often those to linger, either with their dates or organizing an after-party. Some though were different than others, and might be there earlier, so she may have to speed up and get out quickly.
Chiara had just finished when she heard steps on the little stairs that led to the door and froze.
The wooden panel creaked open slowly and a young girl came in, perhaps two years younger than Chiara.
Dammit, she thought, and tried to disappear as noiselessly as possible into the bathroom.
She felt the girl freeze as well.
"Anybody there?" she heard her ask, before switching the light on. The fear in her voice was palpable, and Chiara fought down a snicker. Really, how old was she to be afraid in the dark?
Fortunately enough, the bathroom had a window, which Chiara easily opened -- it made a scraping sound as it did, but it was unlikely the other girl had heard it -- before taking her shoes off and jumping out with the agility of a street cat. If she had done that with her ankle boots, the impact would have most probably drawn fissures in the heel, something she didn't particularly want.
She slid her shoes back on and made for the Arts and Crafts room; the night air was starting to grow really cold, covering her freckled arms in gooseflesh.
At half-way, she spotted Dylan, and withdrew in the shadows. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about him in the past weeks, yet Dylan had always been reserved about his feelings and she didn't want to go head first into a knock back. She really couldn't afford it in her situation.
Her heart clenched painfully and she felt like crumbling down again. No, not now, not with Dylan near me, she thought. She did her best to steel herself and realized Dylan had already walked past her; silent as a panther, she followed him before suddenly grabbing both his shoulders.
"Mission accomplished," she whispered.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Ooc: I apologize for not getting back sooner I was busy this week.
Bic: Dylan was spooked by Chiara. She had come upon him so unexpectedly that he nearly broke her wrist. He knew that she had liked to do that, startle people, but did she have to do it right when he was in the dark, and kind of on his toes just in case that someone saw them sabotage the Aphrodite cabin.
Geez, Chiara... don't do that. I thought you were Chiron or Mr.D. he said. He wasn't afraid to admit when he was afraid... somethinng he felt that he had to work on. It was something he had read in a book that made him think about what he did as a leader.
It read "Bravery is not the absence of fear, but the act of hiding." The statement made him feel ill-suited to be a leader. How could he, some random teenage punk, learn to hid his fear, convince countless of people that he could lead, and act like he knew what he was doing. It didn't seem like it was possible to him. That was probably his fatal flaw, self doubt.
Because of this flaw he had, he could easily be taken down with a few words. Just telling Dylan that he isn't good enough for something won't instantly make him surrender, but the idea would sit in his head for days, weeks, or even months. He'd linger on his thoughts, making him gradually doubt himself. Every action he made would be pondered upon. He'd start to overthink situations through, trying to make the best choice, but eventually fail because of it. His failures would torment his mind, making him feel inept and voulnerable, and when he hit his lowest point of self doubt, he'd surrender, hoping that he made the right choice.
Well then, we made away with our prank, and no one saw us. Thank god, it worked. He said as he wrapped his arm around Chiara's waist, having her walk to the right of him.
Bic: Dylan was spooked by Chiara. She had come upon him so unexpectedly that he nearly broke her wrist. He knew that she had liked to do that, startle people, but did she have to do it right when he was in the dark, and kind of on his toes just in case that someone saw them sabotage the Aphrodite cabin.
Geez, Chiara... don't do that. I thought you were Chiron or Mr.D. he said. He wasn't afraid to admit when he was afraid... somethinng he felt that he had to work on. It was something he had read in a book that made him think about what he did as a leader.
It read "Bravery is not the absence of fear, but the act of hiding." The statement made him feel ill-suited to be a leader. How could he, some random teenage punk, learn to hid his fear, convince countless of people that he could lead, and act like he knew what he was doing. It didn't seem like it was possible to him. That was probably his fatal flaw, self doubt.
Because of this flaw he had, he could easily be taken down with a few words. Just telling Dylan that he isn't good enough for something won't instantly make him surrender, but the idea would sit in his head for days, weeks, or even months. He'd linger on his thoughts, making him gradually doubt himself. Every action he made would be pondered upon. He'd start to overthink situations through, trying to make the best choice, but eventually fail because of it. His failures would torment his mind, making him feel inept and voulnerable, and when he hit his lowest point of self doubt, he'd surrender, hoping that he made the right choice.
Well then, we made away with our prank, and no one saw us. Thank god, it worked. He said as he wrapped his arm around Chiara's waist, having her walk to the right of him.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
OOC: It's perfectly okay, don't worry. I apologize for my short post though xD
BIC: Chiara could feel the irritation in his voice and replied with a snicker, even though she felt a bit guilty and quite embarrassed, but didn't show it. It was odd how his reaction affected her, with most people, especially her friends, she would just go 'Whatever, whimp' but right now.... She didn't know if it was because it was the night, because they had danced together or pulled a prank on a cabin. But it did affect her a bit.
She tried to forget it as she tilted her head to the right, catching a glimpse of the moon before it disappeared behind a cloud, redrawing its contour with a pale, ghosty white line. The stars had always been very visible amidst the sky, at Camp, and it made her once again remember how far she was from Corsica. It wouldn't be long till she returned, now the war against the Titans was over, and she wouldn't admit it, but she wanted to see her father again -- well, her stepfather.
The daughter of Ares felt her heart do an unwelcome somersault inside her chest as Dylan passed an arm around her waist. She glanced at him and smirked, then passed her left arm around his back.
"Yeah. But I bet you fifteen bucks we're gonna be among the top ten suspects," she casually said and gave him a smirk.
They weren't as famous for playing pranks as the Stoll brothers, but they were often suspected, even for pranks they hadn't pulled.
BIC: Chiara could feel the irritation in his voice and replied with a snicker, even though she felt a bit guilty and quite embarrassed, but didn't show it. It was odd how his reaction affected her, with most people, especially her friends, she would just go 'Whatever, whimp' but right now.... She didn't know if it was because it was the night, because they had danced together or pulled a prank on a cabin. But it did affect her a bit.
She tried to forget it as she tilted her head to the right, catching a glimpse of the moon before it disappeared behind a cloud, redrawing its contour with a pale, ghosty white line. The stars had always been very visible amidst the sky, at Camp, and it made her once again remember how far she was from Corsica. It wouldn't be long till she returned, now the war against the Titans was over, and she wouldn't admit it, but she wanted to see her father again -- well, her stepfather.
The daughter of Ares felt her heart do an unwelcome somersault inside her chest as Dylan passed an arm around her waist. She glanced at him and smirked, then passed her left arm around his back.
"Yeah. But I bet you fifteen bucks we're gonna be among the top ten suspects," she casually said and gave him a smirk.
They weren't as famous for playing pranks as the Stoll brothers, but they were often suspected, even for pranks they hadn't pulled.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
The pranksters were walking back to the mess hall, until something caught Dylan's eye. There was a mass of campers all circling the campfire. They all were singing campfire songs, roasting marshmallows, the usual stuff that people do with a campfire. Something that made Dylan stop in his tracks though was how many couples there were. There was no distinction of race, age, or gender amongst them. It was just love. Of course, there were just as many cliques and groupies as there were couples, with the usual loner, but they seemed nonexistent to Dylan. He was just focused on the couples that were there. Holding hands, smiling, laughing, kissing, it made Dylan... envious.
He had strait up covetousness to all of them. Why did he all of a sudden have this strange, depressing feeling towards all of those teenagers, he didn't know. But it made him think about that strange urge that he had about Chiara earlier that night. The strange feeling that he forced down because it seemed obnoxious at the time, it came back to him, slowly but surely.
What if Chiara and I did go out? I mean, we do have a lot of fun together, and we do agree with each other on many things, so why not make it work? This would totally work out... what if she says no? That would ruin our friendship completely. I can't do it, it's too risky. I will, no I won't, I mean... Aphrodite, help me. He said in his head.
His thoughts were easily noticeable, as they were reflected by his facial expressions in a somewhat comical way. He then found this burst of courage to ask Chiara the question. Maybe the goddess of love heard his cry for help, or maybe it was the heat of the moment, but he felt that it was now or never.
Hey, can I ask you something? He asked her, waiting for her response.
He had strait up covetousness to all of them. Why did he all of a sudden have this strange, depressing feeling towards all of those teenagers, he didn't know. But it made him think about that strange urge that he had about Chiara earlier that night. The strange feeling that he forced down because it seemed obnoxious at the time, it came back to him, slowly but surely.
What if Chiara and I did go out? I mean, we do have a lot of fun together, and we do agree with each other on many things, so why not make it work? This would totally work out... what if she says no? That would ruin our friendship completely. I can't do it, it's too risky. I will, no I won't, I mean... Aphrodite, help me. He said in his head.
His thoughts were easily noticeable, as they were reflected by his facial expressions in a somewhat comical way. He then found this burst of courage to ask Chiara the question. Maybe the goddess of love heard his cry for help, or maybe it was the heat of the moment, but he felt that it was now or never.
Hey, can I ask you something? He asked her, waiting for her response.
Last edited by dannyjboy123 on 2/10/2014, 6:40 pm; edited 1 time in total
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
OOC: Sorry for the short post D:
BIC:Chiara's eyes had been following a shadow moving several meters away, curious whether it was a person or an animal, when Dylan's words shoved her attention away from it. He seemed quite nervous.
"Yeah, sure," she replied.
She could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and his wallet chain brushed her thigh with every step, cold and metallic. It reminded her of her own collection of wallet chains she often decorated her shorts and trousers with.
The moon had come out from behind the cloud, now hovering in the middle of the sky; a slim white crescent. The daughter of Ares normally hadn't interest nor liking for the beauties of nature yet right now she felt in mood to appreciate the starred sky, its deep blue color reminding her of the ocean's abysses with its predators; she wondered what predators could be up there, apart from anemoi thuellai. The only thing she knew to live up there were ouraniae, sky nymphs.
There she was, her thoughts drifting away again; she turned back to look at Dylan, curious about his question.
BIC:Chiara's eyes had been following a shadow moving several meters away, curious whether it was a person or an animal, when Dylan's words shoved her attention away from it. He seemed quite nervous.
"Yeah, sure," she replied.
She could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt and his wallet chain brushed her thigh with every step, cold and metallic. It reminded her of her own collection of wallet chains she often decorated her shorts and trousers with.
The moon had come out from behind the cloud, now hovering in the middle of the sky; a slim white crescent. The daughter of Ares normally hadn't interest nor liking for the beauties of nature yet right now she felt in mood to appreciate the starred sky, its deep blue color reminding her of the ocean's abysses with its predators; she wondered what predators could be up there, apart from anemoi thuellai. The only thing she knew to live up there were ouraniae, sky nymphs.
There she was, her thoughts drifting away again; she turned back to look at Dylan, curious about his question.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
The pattern of the fire seemed hypnotic, like Dylan was in a trance. He knew that he wasn't though. He'd met campers who described, with vivid detail, how being in a trance felt like. They had said that you can't control your words, movements, and sometimes even your own mind. But Dylan was in complete control over his body. He knew that he could break his gaze upon the fire at any moment, but he didn't. He felt like a moth to a flame… which was pretty ironic when he thought about it.
The fire's radiance was so intense that Dylan not only could feel it, he could smell and hear it despite the fact that he was probably at most a hundred yards away from it. It was mystical… and yet, it was unsettling as well. He broke away from it harshly, as if it was painful to do so. In a way, it was. He looked at the ground between him and Chiara, and regained his thoughts. It seemed like the fire was a "power-up" of some sort, giving him the strength most men in their right mind would never do… he was going to tell Chiara how he felt about her.
He heaved a great sigh, and continued on with what he asked her. Look, I know we are… friends, I guess. I can't really say that about most of the people here. In a way, you're special to me. I honestly can't imagine a day without some adventure with you. You make the time I spend away from home worth it. I have to say that I genuinely- Then there was a pause. Dylan found himself unable to speak. It was as if the words had gotten caught within his own throat and wouldn't come out. He swallowed hard, and finessed what he was about to say.
I love you, Chiara, and I don't want to be with anyone else. He knew that she would be shocked, at the least. Or, she could react like "Well duh! You made it so obvious that Polyphemus could've seen that!" All he knew was that she could literally rip him in half if she wanted to, and he wasn't too interested to see how his visceral parts looked beneath the beautiful starry night sky.
The fire's radiance was so intense that Dylan not only could feel it, he could smell and hear it despite the fact that he was probably at most a hundred yards away from it. It was mystical… and yet, it was unsettling as well. He broke away from it harshly, as if it was painful to do so. In a way, it was. He looked at the ground between him and Chiara, and regained his thoughts. It seemed like the fire was a "power-up" of some sort, giving him the strength most men in their right mind would never do… he was going to tell Chiara how he felt about her.
He heaved a great sigh, and continued on with what he asked her. Look, I know we are… friends, I guess. I can't really say that about most of the people here. In a way, you're special to me. I honestly can't imagine a day without some adventure with you. You make the time I spend away from home worth it. I have to say that I genuinely- Then there was a pause. Dylan found himself unable to speak. It was as if the words had gotten caught within his own throat and wouldn't come out. He swallowed hard, and finessed what he was about to say.
I love you, Chiara, and I don't want to be with anyone else. He knew that she would be shocked, at the least. Or, she could react like "Well duh! You made it so obvious that Polyphemus could've seen that!" All he knew was that she could literally rip him in half if she wanted to, and he wasn't too interested to see how his visceral parts looked beneath the beautiful starry night sky.
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
Surprise caught Chiara in the throat. She hadn't been expecting that; she had thought Dylan would ask her if they could spar together some time tomorrow, or go with him to the climbing wall -- ever since he joined Camp they had had that climbing competition going on between each other.
She would have also expected him to ask her if she wanted to sneak out of Camp with him; it wasn't rare that both of them 'went feeding Peleus' but in fact took Chiara's Ducati and rode to New York to do some skate board, BMX, or just have fun and go to the movies.
But this....
Chiara swallowed, though she coudn't stop a smile parting her lips. A warm feeling spread inside her ribcage, in her lungs, and she breathed easier as she listened to him.
When he was finished, she turned to him so that his arm slid from her waist, while herself letting go of his shoulders. Her lips half open, she passed her arms slowly around his neck, with a delicacy she could never have expected from her brutal and violent self, and kissed him, placing her lips just at the corners of his mouth. The feeling in her ribcage intensified as her tongue lightly brushed his and she closed her eyes.
She would have also expected him to ask her if she wanted to sneak out of Camp with him; it wasn't rare that both of them 'went feeding Peleus' but in fact took Chiara's Ducati and rode to New York to do some skate board, BMX, or just have fun and go to the movies.
But this....
Chiara swallowed, though she coudn't stop a smile parting her lips. A warm feeling spread inside her ribcage, in her lungs, and she breathed easier as she listened to him.
When he was finished, she turned to him so that his arm slid from her waist, while herself letting go of his shoulders. Her lips half open, she passed her arms slowly around his neck, with a delicacy she could never have expected from her brutal and violent self, and kissed him, placing her lips just at the corners of his mouth. The feeling in her ribcage intensified as her tongue lightly brushed his and she closed her eyes.
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Their kiss was a passionate, and somewhat wet one. It started out like any hollywood movie kiss, where their lips touch, their hands are on each other's faces, and the violins were playing in the background to some romantic, happy song played in a major key. Then, it became more realistic when their tongues came in to the equation. Their tongues touched and rubbed against each other as their mouths were widened to allow room for them. Dylan seemed to count, not out of competition, but just out of curiosity to see how long he could kiss. When they came up for air, he held the number in his mind.
46 seconds. Well, that was pretty good for my first kiss. He thought. They stared into each others eyes for a while, and that's when Dylan realized that Chiara was perfect. Sure, she was a bit quarrelsome and could be touchy at times, but what girl wasn't? She was the daughter of Ares, meaning she could more than just handle herself. She wouldn't be so clingy and needy, unlike other girls, and probably let him do whatever he wanted without needing to now where he was all the time. It seemed impossible that demigods could live happily ever after, but Dylan didn't seem to care. Chiara became his reason to try to survive any monster that would come to him. She was his purpose in training, she was his muse. He loved her.
Then the commotion of teenagers shouting at each other was sounded off in the distance.
Sounds like the Aphrodite girls found their makeup bags. About time. I knew that they'd go to sleep earlier than everyone else to catch up on their 'beauty sleep.' Then there was a shout that was unmistakably a guy. "Tiffany! I told you to stop taking my blush! Oh my gods you're so annoying!" Dylan couldn't help but laugh. He sounded so whiny, even for an Aphrodite kid.
Are you sure you put the bags in the right places?
46 seconds. Well, that was pretty good for my first kiss. He thought. They stared into each others eyes for a while, and that's when Dylan realized that Chiara was perfect. Sure, she was a bit quarrelsome and could be touchy at times, but what girl wasn't? She was the daughter of Ares, meaning she could more than just handle herself. She wouldn't be so clingy and needy, unlike other girls, and probably let him do whatever he wanted without needing to now where he was all the time. It seemed impossible that demigods could live happily ever after, but Dylan didn't seem to care. Chiara became his reason to try to survive any monster that would come to him. She was his purpose in training, she was his muse. He loved her.
Then the commotion of teenagers shouting at each other was sounded off in the distance.
Sounds like the Aphrodite girls found their makeup bags. About time. I knew that they'd go to sleep earlier than everyone else to catch up on their 'beauty sleep.' Then there was a shout that was unmistakably a guy. "Tiffany! I told you to stop taking my blush! Oh my gods you're so annoying!" Dylan couldn't help but laugh. He sounded so whiny, even for an Aphrodite kid.
Are you sure you put the bags in the right places?
Morgan Landry- High Queen of Narnia
Number of posts : 15906
Registration date : 2011-12-31
It had not been Chiara's first kiss, but it had been her best kiss.
Sure enough, she had dated quite a number of guys, even some here at Camp... well, quite a number. Let's see. Her first guy had been somebody of her clique back in Corsica, when she had been twelve. Before, no guy had been interested in her, but when puberty came knocking at the door, the boys of her group started looking at her differently -- all of them except her cousin Thiago of course. That would've been gross.
She had dated some guys for a night at dance clubs or at random parties.... But she realized that until now, she had never really loved those she had kissed. Childhood crushes weren't really love. Until now, all she had been doing was messing around with guys she didn't really know, going from one person to another without managing to get attached to anybody. Yeah, quite shady, but she wasn't exactly that type of girl.
But as she kissed Dylan, she could distinctively feel her heart beat increasing, her cheekbones burning a little and the sunny, intense feeling grow larger inside her ribcage, like warm, mellow honey.
The kiss was longer than those Chiara had experienced before, as well as more intense in the sense that they went from soft to passionate, then back to soft and so on. Normally, Chiara was a fierce kisser, but right now, she didn't feel the need, she just let herself go with the music of the moment. She could feel Dylan's breath on her cheek and his heart pounding against her flat chest, and she briefly opened her eyes to catch a glimpse of his sideways-tilted face before closing them again in order to enjoy it better.
When they finally broke apart, Chiara's hands were on his shoulders and she studied his eyes, darkened by the night.
Then she let her palms slide down his arms and took his hands, interlacing their fingers as she turned her head towards the cabin's courtyard.
"Are you sure you put the bags in the right places?" Dylan asked.
"No," Chiara replied, grinned then chuckled.
She moved her hands upwards, taking Dylan's in the motion, their palms touching as she extended her fingers then intertwined them again with his.
"But who cares?"
Sure enough, she had dated quite a number of guys, even some here at Camp... well, quite a number. Let's see. Her first guy had been somebody of her clique back in Corsica, when she had been twelve. Before, no guy had been interested in her, but when puberty came knocking at the door, the boys of her group started looking at her differently -- all of them except her cousin Thiago of course. That would've been gross.
She had dated some guys for a night at dance clubs or at random parties.... But she realized that until now, she had never really loved those she had kissed. Childhood crushes weren't really love. Until now, all she had been doing was messing around with guys she didn't really know, going from one person to another without managing to get attached to anybody. Yeah, quite shady, but she wasn't exactly that type of girl.
But as she kissed Dylan, she could distinctively feel her heart beat increasing, her cheekbones burning a little and the sunny, intense feeling grow larger inside her ribcage, like warm, mellow honey.
The kiss was longer than those Chiara had experienced before, as well as more intense in the sense that they went from soft to passionate, then back to soft and so on. Normally, Chiara was a fierce kisser, but right now, she didn't feel the need, she just let herself go with the music of the moment. She could feel Dylan's breath on her cheek and his heart pounding against her flat chest, and she briefly opened her eyes to catch a glimpse of his sideways-tilted face before closing them again in order to enjoy it better.
When they finally broke apart, Chiara's hands were on his shoulders and she studied his eyes, darkened by the night.
Then she let her palms slide down his arms and took his hands, interlacing their fingers as she turned her head towards the cabin's courtyard.
"Are you sure you put the bags in the right places?" Dylan asked.
"No," Chiara replied, grinned then chuckled.
She moved her hands upwards, taking Dylan's in the motion, their palms touching as she extended her fingers then intertwined them again with his.
"But who cares?"
DannyBoi- Junior Member
Number of posts : 327
Age : 25
Registration date : 2013-04-26
Yea, who cares? He said. He gazed into her eyes, and saw her entire life reflected through those spheres in her skull. He saw her life in Corsica, all of the influence it had on her. He saw every little detail of her history. He saw how being the daughter of Ares had shaped her into the amazing woman she was. She was perfect to him. In her eyes, he saw a future with her. A future where they lived together, with a family, and stories to tell their children and grandchildren. A future… that could never happen. In fact, as he thought that, he realized how ridiculous that was. For a demigod to dream that is like a fish wishing to become a bird; something that could only happen by the mercy and grace of the gods. With that thought in his mind, his thoughts started to clear.
Dylan couldn't tell whether it was the atmosphere of the Aphrodite cabin that made him think about romance and love, but he defiantly could tell that there was something bigger controlling his thoughts. There were always thoughts of romance when it came to Chiara, but never had Dylan ever acted on impulse. There was never any time when he ever did anything physical with Chiara. It didn't feel like it was genuine. He felt the same way he did when there was some demigod doing some mind control power on him. The kiss felt… forced.
Wait, Chiara. Are- are we sure about this? About us? He asked her.
Dylan couldn't tell whether it was the atmosphere of the Aphrodite cabin that made him think about romance and love, but he defiantly could tell that there was something bigger controlling his thoughts. There were always thoughts of romance when it came to Chiara, but never had Dylan ever acted on impulse. There was never any time when he ever did anything physical with Chiara. It didn't feel like it was genuine. He felt the same way he did when there was some demigod doing some mind control power on him. The kiss felt… forced.
Wait, Chiara. Are- are we sure about this? About us? He asked her.
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