Zephyros creek (original title woooo)

Floating about fifteen feet above the creek's water, Stella was bemusedly reading an old, battered, leather-bound novella she had found in the library by one Sheridan LeFanu: "Carmilla." A homosexual vampire was certainly much more interesting than those sparkly twerps that Stephanie Meyer wrote about -- if only her dyslexia didn't make it so difficult to read.

She was on her back, holding the book high above her head as the sunlight beat down on her from above. But she wasn't hot at all this time, no; she had taken the time to regulate the air immediately about her to a very standable temperature of around 75 degrees Fahrenheit. The black cardigan and blue skinny jeans she was wearing kept her from getting a bit chilly in case the wind blew too much through the forest, and really, Stella couldn't be bothered to change every little wind pattern to suit her needs. If she got too hot, take off the cardigan and let the blue v-neck t-shirt expose her arms and keep them cool. That was the miracle of clothing.

Licking the tip of her finger, she flipped to the next page. The writing wasn't fading at all, well preserved from the elements all these years; this had been printed late in the... 1910s? She couldn't tell. Her dyslexia wasn't exactly terrible, but not very good compared to those measly demigods, either. It was certainly a touchy point for her, having so much difficulty reading -- but all or most demigods had at least a bit of difficulty anyway, so that wasn't too bad.

In the distance, Stella could sense something moving but, frankly, would pay no attention to it: it was probably a nymph judging by the brisk walk, compared to a satyr's awkward gait.

The sound of a splash nearby forced Stella's attention away from the indecipherable book to the creek's shoreline: a girl, blonde and tall and barefoot, had left her shoes on the dry land and dove into the water even though she was... still fully clothed. How hardcore. Was she a child of a water god?

Stella's mental question was answered within moments, when the girl broke through the surface of the water to breathe: she was wet and couldn't breathe underwater? Definitely not a water demigod. She could swim, sure, but a lot of people could (except for her sisters, but that could be remedied soon). Raising her eyebrows, she pulled out an old Torchic Pokemon card she had stuck between the fly leaf and title page of the novella and stuck it between the pages she had left off on. With a short snap and flick of her wrist, the shut book had been borne off by the winds back to her cabin.

The demititan yawned and, slowly, turned her head to watch the other girl swim. There was an... odd aura about her. Certainly not like any demigod -- but.... Stella frowned as the girl swam as her thoughts wandered in a completely different direction: wondering briefly why in the hell this chick hadn't used a bathing suit like any regular damned person.

A curious power, surely, but Stella was sure that she had seen it somewhere before. She tended to be vastly unimpressed by the powers she saw around camp, and this one, though interesting and certainly useful and powerful, did not in the least raise any strong emotion of jealousy or curiosity in her. The girl's fan had dried her off fairly quickly, but the question was: would she leave it there for the nymphs to swear at, or would she destroy it?

Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she slowly lowered herself to a standing position about a foot above the water; the water below rippled from the air holding her afloat, allowing her to stroll to shore without getting her Vans wet in the least. She let herself hop down to the ground as soon as she was away from the water, only several yards from the other girl and her machine.

Turning her head to watch her for a second, she called to her: "You a kid of Hephaestus or somethin'?"

Iapetus? Goddamn. Where were all these new demititans popping up from -- and why did they always look so close to her age? Had the Titans conspired together to have their kids around the same age so they'd all be chums together at camp and overthrow its power hierarchy as a team? Maybe. Unless Stella's mind was too focused on conspiracy theories now.

Snorting slightly, Stella shrugged at her innocently, kicking at a rock with her shoe. "How would I know? All these new kids popping out of nowhere with weird powers -- and, like, three new demititans in the span of a few years. Goddamn, life's full of surprises."

The war -- well, both of them, actually -- had thrown everyone for a loop. New prophecies and heroes popping up, new godly clashes every day. So stupid. Gods were so stupid, and so were their precious little brats being coddled with blessings.

Stella chuckled and waved her off, letting the rock fly into a little path between two trees. How many times had she heard that before? "Oh, helping Kronos sounded interesting -- but you know, when Percy Jackson appeared and did all that crap, we were pretty damned sure he'd succeed. And he did, didn't he? The Fates and Oracle are fickle little things with their prophecies, even the gods can't win against them. We all agreed on that."

Oh, yes, Stella had thought long and hard about all that. She was hellbent, as she had since she was claimed, on killing as many demigods as she could before a god stepped in to stop her -- and lo and behold, none had yet. Perhaps they didn't care so much for the ones who weren't the subject of grand prophetic destinies.

"Ouranos. Primordial god of the sky and a wonderful candidate for a scavenger hunt." Oh yes, she certainly respected her father -- to a degree. Getting cut into pieces was probably a humiliating experience, but that was where fate directed him, and so he descended into his own personal kind of hell. He probably didn't even know where most of his pieces were; Stella didn't even know how she was conceived, although she had the faint idea that his spirit manifested to her mother about eighteen years ago, maybe even longer because her mother never liked to talk about the details.

She ignored the initial jab: she wasn't looking for a fight, nor did she think a child of Iapetus would give her much trouble. They had made the smart decision, and look where they were: on the winning side, alive and well and still able to wreak as much havoc as they wanted on camp.

Thea couldn't help but chuckle. The girl had humor, she had to give her that.

"And what would your name be?" she inquired, sitting on a hot boulder as if it were a throne.

OOC: This is the one-liner RP.. right? XD

[ooc: I think we went for a "post as much or as little" RP lmao]

"Stella Acerbi." She looked at the other girl -- now closer, she could tell she was definitely about her height and age. "And you are?"

Thea? Hm. Interesting.

"Well now. Welcome to camp. You meet any of our other cabinmates yet?" She must not have been here for very long, if Stella hadn't heard of her or seen her lurking about camp. She could be a potentially good ally -- all the other demititans were because they had to stick together in this hellhole.

"Pity -- you're missing two, but you'll see them soon enough. Son of Oceanus and daughter of Mnemosyne. Maybe that daughter of Gaea if she's not moping somewhere." Stella didn't keep tabs on the last one, nor did she care. She only cared about the ones who would probably help her in the long run.

"Neither are the rest of us, but networking will be useful in the future." Her favorite thing to do: get any advantage she can and then waltz away. That's what her camp experience would end like, anyway, because otherwise that meant she was attached to the damned place. She only liked a small fraction of the people, enough to want to keep track of them in case she got into a tight place.

Stella shrugged in reply. "More wouldn't hurt, and us demititans need to stick together -- not like each other, but just, you know... stay in touch. Too few of us out there, but it wouldn't take many to do something big."

That could have meant any number of things, from taming a drakon to be a pet and then releasing it into camp to just destroying the place in general. Stella didn't care; it was all good fun to her.

Stella snorted slightly at Thea's rhetorical question, wondering at how she could be so blind. "Aah, right. Because we definitely knew you existed then? Kronos was going to be a failure, even his own son saw that."

No news of any demititan had reached the camp's side from where they were, and surely they -- especially David, son of Gaea -- would have known because of how rare and powerful they are. She had already given her reasons for not going in to Kronos' side: because of the prophecy and Percy Jackson. That was just being wise. They would rise on their own time, without that useless son of Poseidon and without the aid of some big Titan; being on a losing side was not on Stella's agenda.