The Kids of the Minor God - FLASHBACK

Dae-Seon grinned. "Awww, can't handle a wittle critic? That's too cute. Where you off to, go back to mommy and cry in her skirt?" She sighed. "I thought Deimos was a war god. Apparently even he can have runts..."

Jack blew the fuse. His fists clenched. Immediately, he turned around and threw himself at Falko, simultaneously shouting "WHY YOU...!", sending out punches at her face. Yeah, he has a problem with temper and all that. He would be willing to attack anyone, even if it's his sister. Technically, half-sister. But she was irritating on a beyond measurable level.

Finally the training she had gotten in the boot camp and military schools would pay off. Falko answered his punches with some uppercuts of her own, throwing herself at him equally as furiously as he had thrown himself at her.

Falko countered his moves, which made him more irritated. He shoved her on her chest with the force of both of his hands, while simultaneously stomping on her foot. Yep, this is gonna get the attention from someone. Someone big and important. Bah. He got in trouble a lot. He was consumed by rage, irritation and his worst flaw of blowing the fuse if taunted.

Falko flew backwards into the railing if the porch, her back hitting the old wood. Crying out, she glared at Jack with a newfound level of anger. "You're gonna pay for that one," the twelve years old threatened, and attacked in a series of well-placed kicks.

"Am I?" he taunted, before launching at Falko, his fists jabbing at her wildly. Too late. The unexpected kick knocked him to the ground, and he rolled, in an attempt to get away from her continuing attacks.

Falko didn't stop aiming kicks at him when he was on the ground, until a pair of hands roughly grabbed her shoulders and shoved he back.

"What's happening here?" The guy asked.

Jack was filthy now. The dirt got on all parts of his clothes, and he brushed the dusts off. There were a bunch of bruises, then he looked up. Falko stopped. And because of someone who suddenly held her back. "Wh-what the..." he looked at the man behind Falko, but in this angle, Falko was blocking him.

OOC: Ain't an admin anymore so I can't RP the Stoll brothers, so let's just say this is another senior of the cabin, um, Michael.

BIC: The guy had upturned eyebrows and looked about fourteen or fifteen. He had an orange shirt and swim trucks, as if he was just going to the beach.

"Oi, I asked you a question."

"He attacked me," Dae-Seon immediately said. "I just defended myself."

"She offended me!" he snapped, justifying his actions. "And she was winning anyway!" he added.

Standing up and brushing the dusts off his t-shirt, he looked again at the senior camper. "Hmmm...are you a senior cabin member?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Both of you calm the Hades down," he said. "I won't tell the cabin leaders this once, but if I see you two fighting in front of our cabin one more time, I'll make sure you both get dish washing chores. Run along now."

Falko didn't linger and walked down the steps. With a grin she looked over her shoulder and nodded at Jack. "See ya later, runt." And she turned around, hands in her pockets, whistling a Green Day song.

Jack grunted before leaving, without a goodbye whatsoever.

OOC: Time jump back to the future?

OOC: Yeeah

BIC: Falko was walking back to the Deimos cabin, her earbuds blasting pop songs. Her long hair was died a lavender color and she was wearing a black cropped tee with ribcage print and a cute pair of minty shorts, a little bowtie in her hair. She was coming back from the lake, where she had hung out with the popular, but now it was time for running with the nymphs. "Jack!" She smiled as she saw him, grabbing him into a sisterly hug. "Ready to reset the cabin record"?

The present day Jack embraced the hug, smiling. Four years. How they have changed. Four years ago they were almost from strangling each other to death. Now they were embracing a hug. "Heck yeah, why not?" Pulling from his sister, he gave her a kind smile. "I was just thinking about four years ago, that day when we met. Remember it?" Jack asked.

"Oh dear," she chuckled, her hands over her mouth. "I try not to think too much about when I was twelve. I used to draw sharpie tattoos on my arm and thought wearing goth stuff made me the most boss-@ss b!tch on the planet." The Asian laughed again, pulling her tee over her head and putting on a sports tank top from her school in Montreal. "It was a nice little fight though. I had bruises on my back for like, two weeks."

"Me too." he admitted. "I got bruises all over me for weeks. But people change, do they? You're a lot nicer and more lovable now." he briefly halted himself "Back then you had a natural talent at irritating and blowing everyone's fuse. Heh." he giggled a bit. "But your new 17-year-old brother learned to control his temper, has he?" he said sarcastically.

"How dare you! I still have that talent thank you very much," Falko smirked. "I take great pride in blowing someone's fuse -- well, depends which someone." Talking, she had changed into leggings and Nike shoes. She wasn't curvy or boxom like other girls, instead she had a lean, muscled gymnast's body. "Yeah, a few battles do change people," she agreed. "We've grown, and you're far calmer now -- for a hyperactive delinquent," she joked. She used "delinquent" as an inside joke -- everyone here was labelled as a delinquent anyway.

"I see." scratching his chin despite not having any beard, Jack continued. "True for me. This 'delinquent' has become insult-proof beside coward related ones. And I honestly can't remember how did we become great friends/siblings, especially after we got off on the wrong foot."

Falko looked up. "Did you really just forget that day in Manhattan..?"

OOC: Flashback in Manhattan? R we gonna do it?

Fourteen years old Falko was sitting at the table of a coffee shop, trying to understand her maths homework. What a joke! For once she was actually in New York and she was stuck here waiting for her mother who was attending her stupid seminar. Great. And of course, instead of being allowed to visit, she had to do her homework.
Fcking. Fantastic.
Blasting her punk rock playlist through her headphones, Falko chewed on her pen. She freaking hated calculus. The numbers swam in front of her eyes without making any sense and she was close to "accidentally" spilling her cappuccino all over it simply to get rid of it. It was so meaningless -- she should be out there, helping her fellow campers to prepare for the war that was soon to come!

The 16-year-old Jack needed to get away from Camp. He felt annoyed, partly for still being cramped in Cabin 11.

Today he was annoyed by a buddy at the Hermes cabin and he immediately left Camp, frustrated, irritated. He grabbed a taxi and headed down to one of his favorite cáfe near the Empire State Building. That was where he usually went to to have a drink. Three years prior.

Sitting down at a table without looking at whoever that was opposite to his location, he gestured the waiter. The waiter strolled right to his side and he widened his eyes. "Jack! Hey man. The usual?"

"The usual." Jack replied quietly, before finally let his gaze leave the waiter and at the girl opposite him. There was something familiar. Something very close, indeed. Then a thought struck him like lightning strike the Hill Valley courthouse, down the wire, into the Delorean, sending the vehicle back to 1985.

"Falko?" he asked surprisingly, while his eyes tried to finalize her distinctive features.

Falko looked up from behind her book. "Who the fu-- ... Jack?"

She pushed her headphones down around her neck, still chewing on her pen. Great.  Her half-brother whom she barely talked to and who was super sensitive about cowardice.

"Whassup, runt," she smirked. It was incredibly easy to provoke him.

She had given up the total goth look from when she was twelve for a more pun-rock one. Black leggings, oversized gray tee, black denim jacket with studs on the shoulder, paired with combat boots and sooty eyeliner. Her hair was longer than at twelve but still above her shoulders in spiky streaks, a bit like a pixie. The side of it was shaved. A couple of stars and skulls covered her wrists, stuff she drew on her skin with her pen when she was bored.

Jack slammed both of his clenched fists on the table, which caught the attention of other oblivious mortal costumers and they resumed their doing. "Don't f-cking call me runt!" he yelled. The waiter looked at Jack, then immediately continued his coffee-making. "What are you even doing here anyway, Del Nero." he said hastily, calling her by her family name. "You were supposed to be at Camp." Their relationship wasn't that swell anyway. First time they met, they attempted to strangle each other til' death. Similar to that. It's been 2,5 years now, so they don't technically remind each other of the brawl anymore. "And before you ask me why am I out here, then don't. I need time out at Camp." he said abruptly before she could even began.

"Holy Hades, calm down honey. It's just a nickname," she smiled, pausing her music. She stretched her arms over her head and made her neck crack on each side. At camp, Jack and her didn't talk much. They fought during training and Falko would always say something to provoke him. And look, it was still working two years later.

"I'm here with my mother," she answered. Normally they lived in Canada but, because of the seminar, they had both come down to New York. "She's here for her job, and I have to wait for her in this lovely coffee shop." She wriggled her maths folder with a sarcastic smile before leaning forward on her elbows. "Time out, huh? (Cue condescending eyebrow narrowing) Did someone ask for a fight and you chickened out, 's that why you came all the way to NYC?"