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![Farting in Public [Open] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
by Davis 4/25/2013, 9:15 amClimbing seemed like second nature to Harper, the girl's lithe figure curling atop the blue stone's jutting edges. She scaled her way with easy, hand over hand, calloused fingers wrapping around jugs and incuts as her body was hefted up by muscled arms, visibly tensing for every pull. From tiny crevices in the sides of the enormous wall hiccuped lava and smoke, which was relatively easy to avoid once you were able to pick up on noise patterns. The faint sizzling noise seemed to be nature's stoplight, a warning of, "stay nearby and you're gonna get toasted." Rather frequently, Harper stopped her scaling to listen in for the noise, then moved appropriately in the other direction, her vivid figure flipping horizontal some to crawl away.
Generally on rock walls, once you got high enough, people began to pay you some attention. They'd tilt their heads to lock eyes on you, making mental bets on whether you'd fall before you reached the top. But on Camp Half Blood's particular wall, paying more attention to the position of others than yourself was heavily frowned upon--with the blazing fires and steam spewing about, it was much better to watch yourself, even if you were on the ground. Nothing within a fifteen foot radius of the wall could really be considered "safe." It made Harps feel all the better; she could handle fire, but publicity? Well, that was another story entirely. The less people staring her down, the better.
She arched her leg out, toe pressing onto a bigger rock, and she pushed off, bony arm stretched to the left in search of the nearby sloper. Novices might've considered lifting half of your body simultaneously off the wall to be a wild idea, especially since Harper had opted to climb without a harness, but she was confident in her body's strength. Being a dancer really had its perks sometimes. There was a small bell about ten yards higher, so close she could almost taste it. This particular wall, she'd mastered more than a few times, but it didn't take away the adrenaline or feeling of success when you managed to drag your weight to the top, staring down at those who were still trying to get a good grip half a dozen feet up. While openly bragging wasn't her style, she was allowed to feel like she accomplished something difficult every now and again.
It really was a nice day in camp, the sun was shining, there was a cool breeze that ran across the back of Harper's neck and toyed with the tail of her t-shirt. But was anything else to be expected? It only rained when the camp counselors commanded it. Only grew overcast when Mr. D required some shade. Only snowed through December and January to keep the young ones mesmerized. Camp Half Blood was perfect. Literally, flawless. They hadn't seen an attack in quite some time, the majority of children weren't being torn to shreds by monsters, warriors came back from their quests with shiny treasures, and the gods didn't to seem particularly angry. They were safe within magical borders, where they could train and play all day. This were too good. Slightly boring--especially because Harper didn't really socialize at Camp. Every now and again an Apollo boy would invite her to a game of volleyball, but never once had she accepted. This place, it was strange to her. So very different from the lively streets of the city, where robbers fleed from banks with guns in hand, and cars smashed into each other over parking spots. It was peaceful for the most part in camp. But, boring, in a way. Not that she condoned bank robbing or car crashing, but, everything here was predictable. Nothing new or fun ever really happened. Go sword fight in the arena, lay in the grass under the big pine tree, eat in the mess hall at your table and then maybe try to sneak up on Argus. You were so limited within the boundaries--at least, if you were following the rules. And Harper wasn't really one to go sneaking off to get twisted at some huge, obscure house party. She'd rather be on her own doing.. something or other. Hence why every now and again she found herself at the base of the rock wall, mapping out different paths to climb.
With a tiny grunt she lunged for another rock, this one a pocket, allowing her to stick in just two or three fingers. These rocks were hell in the form of a sport--they allowed for minimal grip with less of your arm and more of your hand, minimizing wrist movement and forcing you to strategize with your new found limitations. It reminded her of camp, sort of. The rocks were quite a pain in the butt, though nothing the skilled climber hadn't seen before. She hauled herself up once more, shifting to stabilize her footing, and trying to block out any sort of deep thinking or analytical bull crap.
Instead she tried to think of it as just another day of ascending CHB's very own wall of fiery doom. Just another day of being a total nutcase, which loosely translated to demigod.
Generally on rock walls, once you got high enough, people began to pay you some attention. They'd tilt their heads to lock eyes on you, making mental bets on whether you'd fall before you reached the top. But on Camp Half Blood's particular wall, paying more attention to the position of others than yourself was heavily frowned upon--with the blazing fires and steam spewing about, it was much better to watch yourself, even if you were on the ground. Nothing within a fifteen foot radius of the wall could really be considered "safe." It made Harps feel all the better; she could handle fire, but publicity? Well, that was another story entirely. The less people staring her down, the better.
She arched her leg out, toe pressing onto a bigger rock, and she pushed off, bony arm stretched to the left in search of the nearby sloper. Novices might've considered lifting half of your body simultaneously off the wall to be a wild idea, especially since Harper had opted to climb without a harness, but she was confident in her body's strength. Being a dancer really had its perks sometimes. There was a small bell about ten yards higher, so close she could almost taste it. This particular wall, she'd mastered more than a few times, but it didn't take away the adrenaline or feeling of success when you managed to drag your weight to the top, staring down at those who were still trying to get a good grip half a dozen feet up. While openly bragging wasn't her style, she was allowed to feel like she accomplished something difficult every now and again.
It really was a nice day in camp, the sun was shining, there was a cool breeze that ran across the back of Harper's neck and toyed with the tail of her t-shirt. But was anything else to be expected? It only rained when the camp counselors commanded it. Only grew overcast when Mr. D required some shade. Only snowed through December and January to keep the young ones mesmerized. Camp Half Blood was perfect. Literally, flawless. They hadn't seen an attack in quite some time, the majority of children weren't being torn to shreds by monsters, warriors came back from their quests with shiny treasures, and the gods didn't to seem particularly angry. They were safe within magical borders, where they could train and play all day. This were too good. Slightly boring--especially because Harper didn't really socialize at Camp. Every now and again an Apollo boy would invite her to a game of volleyball, but never once had she accepted. This place, it was strange to her. So very different from the lively streets of the city, where robbers fleed from banks with guns in hand, and cars smashed into each other over parking spots. It was peaceful for the most part in camp. But, boring, in a way. Not that she condoned bank robbing or car crashing, but, everything here was predictable. Nothing new or fun ever really happened. Go sword fight in the arena, lay in the grass under the big pine tree, eat in the mess hall at your table and then maybe try to sneak up on Argus. You were so limited within the boundaries--at least, if you were following the rules. And Harper wasn't really one to go sneaking off to get twisted at some huge, obscure house party. She'd rather be on her own doing.. something or other. Hence why every now and again she found herself at the base of the rock wall, mapping out different paths to climb.
With a tiny grunt she lunged for another rock, this one a pocket, allowing her to stick in just two or three fingers. These rocks were hell in the form of a sport--they allowed for minimal grip with less of your arm and more of your hand, minimizing wrist movement and forcing you to strategize with your new found limitations. It reminded her of camp, sort of. The rocks were quite a pain in the butt, though nothing the skilled climber hadn't seen before. She hauled herself up once more, shifting to stabilize her footing, and trying to block out any sort of deep thinking or analytical bull crap.
Instead she tried to think of it as just another day of ascending CHB's very own wall of fiery doom. Just another day of being a total nutcase, which loosely translated to demigod.
- Spoiler:
- ooc//heads up, i'm particularly slow to reply. i've got a lot on my plate right now, so expect a few weeks inbetween replies. that being said, feel free to post at your leisure. i'm not overly picky, so long as you meet the word req. and i'd prefer some level of literacy. \owo/
