Civil War (private)

It was about 8 PM when Dean and Cam arrived at the movie theatre; luckily for them, the popcorn queue wasn't too long. Cameron looked through the several deals they could get, though she knew already what she'd take: salty popcorn, some Skittles, and an XXL Dr Pepper. Sliding her hands into her pockets, she turned to look at Dean.

"Question," she said in Latin. "If you didn't have to use a gladius, what kind of weapon would you use?"

OOC: She's wearing a white top, khaki shorts, olive sneakers and a dog tag necklace. Her camouflage cap sits crooked on her hair.

Earlier today, after a long but tiring session of deathball, Cam asked me a question along the lines of "Hey Dean, want to go see Civil War?" And, after deciding that going to see a movie with a friend was a much better thing to do than sit around and write whatever comes to mind (as compared to writing about life, which is what I'm doing now), I told her "Yes." and left to go treat my acid blisters. The acid blisters are still there even ten hours later.

So we arrived at the theater in San Fran (out of town slang names like woah!) around 8, just in time to stand in the popcorn line before the horde of mortal nerds (rather than half-blood nerds, although that's pointed at me rather than Cam) came to flood the other lines.

While we were waiting, Cam asked me another question - in Latin, but that's probably because asking someone what weapon they'd use instead of a gladius isn't exactly the most innocent thing to say in any language that isn't dead. After a few seconds of mulling over what I could remember from the arsenal, I shrugged, replying (in Latin) "Spatha? Can't see myself using anything other than a sword."

OOC: Dean is wearing his camp tee underneath an OD green (olive drab green, a darker shade of olive green) zip up hoodie, a pair of tan/brown/black plaid shorts, and his black skate shoes. His car keys are in his right pocket, attached to a purple Legio XII Fulminata lanyard that's hanging out of the pocket.

Cam nodded thoughtfully. Even then, Dean would go for something definitely Roman -- a cavalry sword.

"I'd go for hammers. Not forging ones, but claw hammers." She grinned. "When I was traveling from Sonoma Valley to Berkeley, I stole two of them from Walmart. If any of the Vulcan kids could make them into imperial gold, they would definitely be my back-up weapons. Oh hello, could I have a bag of salty popcorn please?"

It was their turn and Cam slid her wallet out of her back pocket, counting her mortal money.

"Hammers? That's pretty sick." I replied, switching back into English - something that couldn't be said about Cameron. (OOC: Override ANY of this if you want to. I might be godmodding in a way, so call me out if I am) While talking to me in Latin was totally fine, asking the acne-ridden teen at the counter for popcorn in Latin was enough to earn her a confused look from said teen. "Excuse me? Me no hablo Italiano. Please speak English ma'm."

OOC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dOJcCKanVU

BIC: Cameron almost facepalmed. "Sorry. May I have a bag of salty popcorn please?" she said, switching back into English. For her ADHD demigod brain, it was sometimes difficult to remember that not everyone spoke Latin outside of Camp Jupiter.

OOC: Well that was sick! In a good way! :D

BIC: The worker got Cam her popcorn, although she didn't seem to amused by Cam's very American-sounding English. As if Italians would come to America just to see a movie. "Alright, anything else?"

"Yeah; I'd like a large bag of popcorn and, like, how about a medium cherry coke please?" Sure, I wasn't at the front of the line, but we were in the same two-person party.

OOC: Now would be a good time for Cam to pop in with the rest of her order, unless you don't wanted her to have the Dr. Pepper and Skittles.

Cam put in the rest of her order with Dean and soon both of them were carrying their drinks and bags of food into the theatre.

"18 H," Cameron said, squinting at her ticket. They soon found the line and sat down on their seats. Cameron couldn't help but snack on some popcorns whilst they chatted, waiting for the movie to start.

We got to the theater with some time to kill before any of the previews started, so I decided to make a bit of conversation - in Latin. "So how's everything going in the second? Same old same old, or has something come and shaken everything up with you guys?"

"We're holding," Cameron said in the same language. "Haven't had any probatios in a while so it's the same old crew. Our centurions have come up with some pretty good strategies, so you better watch out on Friday," she added with a smirk, as Friday was the next war games.

"Ah..." I replied, nodding my head and turning to look back at the screen. No previews, no need to stop the conversation. "What about the one probatio that ran off? Any word on him?"

OOC 1: That would be Nathan Scott, my now dead original Roman. Son of Angerona, brother to Leandra, quiet but nasty Texan kid. He's been gone for several weeks and his death isn't known to the camp yet.

OOC 2: Until I say he's speaking in English, Dean is speaking in Latin.

Cam shook her head. "He might've joined the Greeks for all we know," she said. Despite the outcome of the Second Gigantomachia, Cameron was still very guarded on the topic of Greeks. She was one of those who had supported Octavian despite the fact that she respected Reyna more as a military leader. She had been behind Octavian 100%: the Greeks simply had to die.

The Greeks? Worthy of a shrug. "Possibly; they probably think that by taking him in, they aren't going to end up in our sights again." The enemy of our enemy may had been our friend on two occasions - the Titan and Giant wars - but this fragile alliance the leaders are trying to build won't last forever. They like to stress about our similarities, but they'll mean nothing once the praetors decide it's time to make some Gyro meat out of those Graeci out east. Peacetime isn't a thing at Camp Jupiter - there's just conflict and the time between conflicts.

"Maybe he just preferred the Greek way to ours," Cameron suggested. Some legionnaires were like that.
She hadn't talked to Nate that much, but he seemed like a good kid. "But I think you're right. An alliance with the Greeks isn't the safest way to go. Timeo danaos et dona ferentes is all I have to say."

"Agreed. They'd probably just bring feta anyway."

My attempts at comedy are always cringey. Hopefully she saw that one as a diamond in the rough.

Soon, the previews started to roll, and I decided to shut up for the next few hours.

"And a broken economy," Cameron added with a grin before eating some more popcorns and watching the pres.

[Time skip]

A few hours later, Cameron walked out of the movie theatre, tossing her empty popcorn bag into the bin. Her soda had lost most of its bubbles and the ice cubes had melted into the drink, so she threw that away too and kept whatever Skittles she had left in her back pocket.

"That movie rocked," she said, putting her forefingers up.

"And a broken economy." Yeah, she nailed it.

[Time skip]

As the credits rolled, Cam and I left the theater, leaving the dedicated fans to pester the ushers by staying 'till some two second long post-credits scene. We tossed out whatever trash we had and walked out into the dark San Francisco night.

Cam clearly enjoyed the film, exclaiming that it "rocked" whilst putting her index fingers in the air. If it wasn't a place as loose as San Francisco, there'd probably be a few glares in her direction by now - which would be bad. Cam hasn't proven to be the best with being glared at.

I on the other hand had little to say. "I thought it was good. I've seen better though."

"Oh come on! Those fights were amazing!"

They left the movie theatre, but the night was clear and fresh and Cam felt like going for a stroll, just to enjoy the evening.

"Let's walk," she said, going down the first best road.

"Yeah, alright, they were good - but I've been in better. If I had a GoPro on my helmet back at Othrys, we'd have the greatest first person film ever."

Can suggested we go for a walk, which didn't sound too bad to me. I just tucked in my lanyard and followed the daughter of Pax down the first road she took. I wasn't too worried - San Fran isn't the worst city I've been in, so the Focus was safe back at the theater.

"If I had a GoPro on my helmet, we'd have the greatest first person movie," Cam said before chuckling and nudging Dean. She liked teasing people.

"Well you see, my dad's always been a big Marvel fan, and since his two favourite heroes are Captain America and Iron Man, it just kind of rubbed off on me. That movie was just what I needed."

I'll be honest, her mimicking my statement did make me chuckle, though I'm not sure if it was out of actual comedy or if I was just a good friend. I'm so humble. "Right, because being in the second makes the film's quality any better."

She mentioned something about her dad - this club owner down in Left Armpit Arizona or something like that - being a massive fan of Cap and Iron Man. "Does he still read the comics? Club ownership probably has a fair amount of downtime, right?"

"I'm pretty sure he owns all of them," Cameron nodded. Her father had indeed a lot of downtime especially during the morning, so he always slept in. He only briefly got up to have breakfast with Cameron before going straight back to bed whilst she went down to catch the school bus.

"Ahh, reckon you can't handle the Secon'?" she grinned, adjusting her cap on her head before propping her hip up in an exaggeration of some high school queen bee. "Go back to the Third, turd." Chuckling again, she pushed her hands into her pockets and turned into another street.

"Third, turd?" I replied with a huffy laugh; "Stop the f*cking presses guys, the Roman goddess of rap just hit the scene! Ooooh sh*t!" I made one of those exaggerated arm-drop move thingys on the "Oh sh*t" part. Another bad attempt at forcing a laugh.

Looking ahead, I noticed a pair of two teens leaning against a chainlink fence, giving us a real cool "What'cha lookin' at, homes?" look. "Probably just some hipsters letting their kale smoothies settle", I remember initially thinking of the two.

OOC: You want to take one and I'll take the other?

OOC: Hold on

BIC: "Damn strai--" She stopped, looking at the two guys casually leaning against a fence a few yards away. Okay, she did not like their look. They acted super chill, as if they just happened to be enjoying the night air and didn't have any kind of nasty thoughts circling around in the back of their mind. (Which they totally did. I mean come on.)

"What's up, dude?" she snarled, walking towards them. "Is there something you wanna say?"

One of the two - this guy in a red flannel, fedora, Ray Bans without the lenses, a pair of dress shoes (irony?), and some faded jeans with the left cup rolled up above the ankle and the other wrapped in duct tape - intensified his look as Cam got closer. And by "intensified", I mean he started staring straight at her, eyes getting wide and mouth staying shut.

This wasn't going to end well.

"Oi. I just talked to you. Do you have a problem or something?"

Cameron came to a stop in front of the two hipsters, feet apart and arms crossed. She was average height for a 16 years old, but those guys were in their twenties and thus a bit taller than her. But she had no problem with that as she glared them down. People said she was paranoid, but she wasn't. Those two were definitely up to something.