Between the Hazing and Training (Private)

When a "normal" camper is asked about the Ares cabin, the response is usually unfavorable - and for good reason. Their first encounter with the residents usually ended with their head dripping with dirty toilet water, they've stayed up countless nights due to the loud, distasteful rock music coming from cabin 5, and whenever they try to get some personal time, almost every Ares kid is ready to ruin it in the name of personal enjoyment.

But to Ryan, cabin 5 was the place he imagined he'd hate but ended up loving. To him, this wasn't just a cabin - it was a fraternity with literal brothers and sisters. Dunking the newbies in the toilet? Just a bit of ritualistic hazing. Loud music keeping the other campers up at night? Screw them, they don't know how to have fun! And if they get offended by anything he did? Suck it up geed, life ain't for the sensitive libtards. Sure, being disliked just because you're a brother some of the biggest a#%holes on camp isn't that great, but it has its perks - nobody in their right mind is going to mess with you and there's always an open seat at the mess hall.

But between the hazing and the training and the "offending", as the more sensitive campers called it, there was usually a bit of down time. And Ryan, today, decided to spend that time doing the one thing that sounded good to him - copping deals on sports jerseys by way of China, straight from his bunk via the Internet.

"Yo d!ckhead, guess who's just bought henna!"

Chiara tossed her backpack onto her bunk and took her motorcycle helmet off. She was dressed in black fatigues and combat boots, her thick red curls gathered up in a messy ponytail.

"Right, get up, I need to try this out," she said, unzipping her backpack and taking the henna out. For years, she had been doing tattoos with black henna on her friends in Corsica, she had even given Namir and Sherman some. It was one of her hobbies she had found, and she often doodled tattoo patterns on her textbooks when she was bored in class.

"Riiight..." Replied Ryan, not budging from his position. "Remind me, what exactly is 'henna'?"

"It's a thing to make tattoos," she explained. "You want one?"

She shook her head. "Nah. That's why it's good." Going from her bunk to one of the wood benches against the wall, she beckoned him over. "Get your @ss here Michaels, it's time for a makeover."

Ryan didn't initially leave his bunk, retorting with "You know Chiara, not everyone wants a temporary tattoo." But soon after, he got up and walked over to the bench, sitting down. "And I just happen to want one."

"Course you do," she smirked and got the equipment ready. "Right. What and where?"

Ryan took a seat on the bench, still undecided as to what to have hennaed on him. After a minute of thinking, he glanced over at his bunk, taking notice of the Gonzales flag hanging off of it.

And then it hit him.

Faster than you could say "make up your mind d*#%head", Ryan rolled up his right sleeve and pointed at the shoulder. "Molon Labe - in Greek."

"Good choice."

Taking out the squeeze bottle, pin, q-tips and everything else she needed, the daughter of Ares started her thing. Her handwriting was usually messy but for tattoos, she cleaned it up a little so that the font of the Greek letters was very straight and sharp. It didn't take too long for her to do it, apply some lemon then wipe it clean. "There you go," she told him.

"Sweet." Ryan looked over the tattoo, impressed by how clean it was compared to her normal handwriting. "So, is this the extent of your henna skills or is there more to you?"

She cracked her knuckles. "You want some more? Cause boy, I can."

Ryan sat back and put on a smug little smile. "Any ideas?"

She pointed at his shoulder. "I could add some Spartan art as a complement. Free of charge."

He pushed his sleeve all the way up. "Call me paper and make me a canvas; doodle to your heart's content."

Chiara cracked her knuckles loudly and went to work. For the next ten minutes, nothing could be heard except the squeeze bottle tracing across his skin, the rasping of cotton, and her focused breathing. Her nose was millimeters away from his shoulders as she concentrated, a light frown twisting her eyebrows.

This was eye opening for Ryan. After being at camp for roughly 5 or so months, he hadn't seen Chiara do much besides fight people and haze newbs, both of which she excelled at. But now she was doing this gel-tattoo thing, and excelling at it. Who knew that one of the most hardened fighters around was such an artist?

It took her fifteen minutes to finish the tattoo. When she finally took a step back and said, "It's done," she had henna smeared on her nose and cheeks, and a satisfied expression on her face. The tattoo was a stylized Spartan helmet, featuring a few cracks, set in front of two crossed weapons: a kopis and a machine gun. HK416 to be precise. Around it and also encompassing the Molon Labe was a boldly designed spiral of Greek meanders which she had adapted to the shape of his muscles, spreading from his upper arm all the way across to his shoulder blade. It made that part of his body look like a piece of ancient pottery except that the design was much sharper and harsher.

"If you don't like it, just scrub some olive oil on it," she said, grabbing a cloth to wipe her hands.

OOC: Kinda got inspired by this.

Ryan looked at the henna, a look of teenage awe on his face. "Are you kidding me? This is sick as f#$&!" He hastily pulled out his iPod, tossing it to Chiara. "Mind taking a few pics? I hate needles, but I'm willing to tough it out long enough to make this permanent."

The redhead grinned, actually genuinely pleased, and caught the iPod. "Flexcam is on," she said, adjusting the camera. "Stick out those triceps!"

Ryan did as told, making the henna visible for Chiara.

OOC: Sorry for the short reply btw.

Chiara snapped a few pics then tossed the iPod back to him. "Glad you like it," she told him, stretching her back. "Accept it as a goodbye present, from me to you."

Ryan caught the iPod, slipping it back into his pocket. "Thanks, but you I'm just going away for a few weeks, right?"

"I might not be there when you get back. I was thinking of going home for a week or two, visit my cousin, my aunt, my grandparents." She shrugged. "Either that or a trip to Camp Jupiter."