This is not what I thought I was getting into.

Blake let out a sigh as he stepped out of the cab that had taken him from the airport in New York all the way out here. Lifting his suitcases out of the cab as well he took a quick look at where he was headed before turning back around to try and explain to the driver that he didn’t exactly have the money the man was probably going to want for the drive over. Except when he had finally turned around imagine his surprise when said taxi cab was gone. Not driving off into the sunset with all his stuff gone, but disappeared gone. As in it was as if the taxi cab had never even been there in the first place which definitely spooked Blake out, cars are not supposed to do that.

Shaking his head he picked up his two suitcases, after making sure both of his cutlasses were on his belt where they were supposed to be. They were and so he started his climb up the hill in front of him and towards the strange out of the way acting camp. He couldn’t even remember why his mom had decided to send him there and why he had to make sure the swords were sheathed and on his hips at almost all times but after the way he had left things with his mom he owed her this much. He wasn’t admitting he was wrong, never in a thousand years would he had been wrong about whatever it was they had argued about but after a long plane ride you got a lot of things to think about.

Things that seemed so trivial and pointless now as he was going to the camp anyway and he was certain the camp was at least one of the topics ‘discussed’ during their little spat. Hefting the non-rolling suitcase up into a more comfortable position he continued walking dragging the rolling suitcase behind him in the grass. He didn’t understand the point of all this but what he did know, or more what he could feel, the grass was happy. The tree at the top of the hill over-looking the strange camp felt safe and when he placed his hand upon it even felt powerful. Letting out a laugh and he looked down into the camp, from the top of the hill you could see almost everything that there was to see in the camp and it was definitely out of the norm.

“Weirdest acting camp I’ve ever seen” Blake muttered to himself about to walk in until he realized he had no idea where he was supposed to go. True, he hadn’t made it all that far into the Camp but he was pretty damn sure there should be signs everywhere to help the new people get straight to the Councilors building or whatever it was here. Yet from where he stood at the entrance to the camp there was nothing like that anywhere, unless of course he was missing something. Setting his suitcase down next to the rolling one he scratched the top of his head and looked around for something, anything that would help him out.

You know, Fridays were usually pretty busy-but-not-busy for Rephaim. He had some classes later on that day after his shift was up, but he wouldn't let that get to him too much as he relaxed on his back in the dew-slicked grass upon the hilltop. He'd even gotten himself the better half of the deal by telling the other guard that he was severely allergic to Peleus the Dragon and therefore could not feed him nor walk him without bursting into vicious hives. The guy bought it, and now here was the young man relaxing peacefully in the grass without too much worry besides, of course, a monster or something appearing out of nowhere, breaking through the border, and possibly devouring him along with the hundreds of other demigods just trying to attend their archery lessons. He chuckled to himself at the thought of a cyclops swatting a volleyball away from the Apollo campers then eating them, then he immediately felt a little bad. The guilt went away almost as soon as it came and Rephaim was back to staring at the mesmerizing blue sky with his brownish-gold eyes.

There had been a conjoined funeral yesterday for some people that had gone on some quest and was injured beyond repair. They died a few minutes after the infirmary people got to them and they were lit up in the pyre along with their appropriate cabin shrouds. Rephaim was there as soon as he heard the news; not to mourn but to watch as the smoke lit up to the sky. And, well, he kinda almost lived at the pyre but that was another story for another time that wasn't now. It wasn't that he liked seeing people mourn (he was intrigued more how people went through the five stages of grief), he would normally talk to the deceased as they drifted down, down, down to the Underworld. Creepy, yes. Relaxing? ...Maybe a little bit. It was what had him in such a good mood today.

As that thought vanished, Rephaim guessed that he should probably sit up and look out for anything with the chance of being deadly or something. He pushed himself up on his elbows, then his hands, then stretched the taut muscles in his arms while being careful as the not choke himself out with the cold bronze metal of his breastplate. When he stood up he was irritated to find out that his legs were previously asleep and now tingling aggressively as if trying to make him fall face-first down the hill and into Téras Territory. Just as he was about to obey his legs and go back to resting at the sight of nothing but grass and road, his eyes locked on a figure slowly making its way up the hill about forty-to-fifty yards away. Rephaim unsheathed the sword from his right hand side without any hesitation and began walking towards the figure with the wickedly black blade reflecting the light from the sun above. As he neared, though, he realized that the figure was not that much of a threat (maybe), and was instead a new kid that looked a tiny bit - no, a little more than a tiny bit - confused as to where he was. Rephaim grinned as he recalled his first day here, slipping Beau back into his sheath so he didn't frighten the new camper too much. As the new kid lifted a hand to scratch his head, Rephaim took this time to try to get his attention.

"You look pretty lost there." He called as he jogged closer. Rephaim's friendly smile was still in place - whoa. This guy is short. Rephaim was pretty sure that his sister Lacey was taller than him, and she was twelve. It probably wouldn't be ethical to comment on his height, so the son of Thanatos kept his mouth shut about that subject. "Do you need help with anything? Chiron would probably want to meet you." He studied the new camper, trying to determine what god parent he could possibly have, sorting his features in his mind into different categories. When he drew a blank on the possibilities of him being Greek, Rephaim assumed that he just wasn't. Maybe he was a Roman scout, which meant that he had to die immediately. Meh...Rephaim could at least wait to see what he said first before cutting his head off.

‘You look pretty lost there.’  The voice came like it was a godsend and Blake couldn’t have been happier, someone from the camp or so he hoped had made their way up the hill at nearly the exact same time he had arrived at this strange acting camp. Turning to face where the voice had come from Blake saw that it belonged to a boy who he assumed was about his age, but of course also taller than he was. From what he saw, the guy had a good five inches on Blake and of course he expected the short jokes to come sooner or later, which to be quite honest was going to suck…completely.

However the next thing to come out of the boy’s mouth was exactly what Blake had wanted to hear. He was offering him some help, and apparently someone named Chiron wanted to meet him. He hoped the Chiron person was the camp director probably some old forgotten Play-right that Blake hadn’t heard of before. Mentally he cursed himself about this knowing he should have read up on Greek epics, pirate plays, and fables as soon as his mom gave him the two cutlass sword props. It was probably this camp director’s specialty and if he ever wanted to get anywhere good in life he’d have to be able to act out everything, and possibly get on the Director’s good side.

“Yes! Thank you, I’m new here” he lifted up his suitcases at this point “which you probably already guessed, and would love some help.” He swung the non-rolling suitcase over his back while he picked up the handle on the rolling one ready to move out. “I have no idea where I’m going, this place could really use some signs. I’m going to assume this Chiron is the camp Director right, if so please lead on.” He said, sure he was talking a tad bit much but he was in fact interested to meet the camp Director, and find out all he could about this acting camp in the middle of nowhere Long Island. He hadn’t flown on a plane for god knows how long from California all the way here only to get lost at the entrance.
((sorry it's a tad short, hope you can still work with it.))

Rephaim gave the camper as warm as his lack of empathy would allow him to give, which was still pretty friendly. Okay, so he probably wasn't a Roman which meant that he didn't have to die. Not only this but Rephaim judged him as a pretty friendly guy. He did talk a lot, but that only gave Rephaim all the more reason to listen as he often enjoyed to do. It was how he learned so much about different people and also how he had managed to survive this long in this barbaric freak-show of a camp. Only very rarely did he find anyone decent enough to have the luxury of having Rephaim actually respond to their speaking.

"It's not a problem at all. Here, that looks heavy." Rephaim offered a hand to take the suitcase that was slung over the guy's shoulder , careful not to actually reach for it until he knew tht it was alright. Rephaim had his experience with muggers; he absolutely didn't want to get pegged as one. "I wish Camp Half-Blood had signs. It would make things a lot easier for all of us, but Chiron usually says that 'easiness promotes laziness' or something like that. Oh, yes, he is one of the directors here along with Mr. D." A thought flashed in his mind then - Did this guy even know where he was? How would he adjust to this life, if he ever did? In the eight months since Rephaim walked up this hill with a false college brochure he still hadn't fully adjusted to waking up at the crack of dawn for some nonsense. he could only hope that this kid (even if he looked near Rephaim's age) knew what he was getting himself into.

"My name is Rephiam Duval, by the way. Before you say it I know it's a mouthful." The subtle French accent spoke for him. His eyes searched down the other side of the hill the led into the camp as he said this statement absently, looking for the other guard to see if he had returned yet. Pleased to see that the guard was being dragged up the hill by an exuberant dragon on a leash, Rephaim began walking forth in hopes that his tour group of one would follow. He hadn't spoken that much at once since last week with Emma, but he let that fact brush off of him. Maybe it was about time that he started being more social. Rephaim snorted mentally. No. He wouldn't be the slightest bit empathetic if the world depended on it. If people talked, he'd listen. That didn't necessarily mean that he had to respond or care.

ooc: It's completely fine.

When the boy offered to take the suitcase from Blake, he happily obliged and handed it over to the other camper. "Thank you, I'd say you're a Godsend but you don't look like the flying type."The shorter male replied with a smile, only to stop and listen to what the other boy had to say concerning the Camp Director's, how they believed signs promoted laziness and the fact that they were both males. Although it wasn't odd in any way Blake did find it weird that there wasn't a female Director. They always had a certain touch that make Directors or male Acting Camp leaders just didn't seem to have; unless they were full on gay of course. And with a name like Mr.D, innuendo heaven, he was pretty sure that department was already covered or said director was a womanizing arsehole.

It was only then that it dawned on Blake as to what the other boy had called the camp, which of course he had the comment on. "Camp Half-Blood? That's an odd name for an a- actually that's an odd name for anything. What's the meaning behind it?" He asked the boy, no Rephiam Duval, with a questioning look. "As for your name its quit fancy actually, not what I'd call a mouthful." He replied to a sort of knowing look on his face, only to turn and follow his new tour guide to wherever they were off to. Hoping he hadn't made a mistake in trusting the first person he met at the camp. But as there had been no use of short jokes or anything of the sort and the sight wasn't all that bad he could overlook any ax murdering if Rephiam attempted it.

After making sure the rolling suitcase was following him and would not hinder his forward movement Blake looked forward to where Rephiam was. Only to look past the French man, eyes widening in shock and fright. For there in front of him was a beast of legend being guided by another boy as if he was taking his dog on a walk. "I-is that a Dragon??" He asked with a very shocked tone, worry in his voice tied in with shock and fright. "Please tell me I'm just seeng things and that's a dog in some sort of costume and not a fire breathing dragon from the stories of myth and legend...and if it is how in the hell is it on a leash?"

((I've been gone for quite some time and for that I am sorry , if you chose not to continue this topic I will understand. Sorry for my absence and terrible post))