Picnic & chill (private)

Phoebe was draped across a lawn chair. The cabins' courtyard was dotted with statues, fountains and flower beds, like her house in the Hamptons. Of course a camp for ancient Greek demigods was much better, even if it meant having sub sandwiches and potato salads for picnic instead of French pastries and bubbly.
In the outside world, it may still be February, but within the magic borders the air was hot and dry, loaded with insect chirps and the splash of fresh water -- a picture perfect summer afternoon. Phoebe indulged in her pink lemonade, tipping her designer shades down over her eyes. A nap would be most welcome after that last sparring session -- she was sore and her leg was still throbbing.
But that would have to wait until she was done flipping through Vogue's newest edition.

OOC: She's dressed in a white blouse over a black swimsuit, like this, and has a lace tablecloth with food next to her chair.

OOC: Sorry!!

BIC: Phoebe stopped reading the moment two people came across her radar. She could feel a crush on one side and some lingering feelings on the other, the kind that give you a soft ache somewhere in your chest. Daintily turning a page of her magazine, she glanced up to have a look at them -- only to be greeted with the feline face and up-to-no-good smirk of a brunette stranger.

"I've had my fair share of tall and dark, but I've never seen one like you before," she purred with a slow smile, scanning a fashion article.