A Secluted Spot for Rule Breaking

T-"Not at all. Get ready and defete the bulls." I activate the bulls and start to fight them.

I fight the bulls using a mixture of my sword and my powers \

T-I keep fighting them but more keep comeing. I frown." I don't remeber waking this many bulls!" I yell to Tibia.

T-Then all of a sudden 20 more show up. "They only come when thier activated but this is to many. Plus the are getting harder and harder to defete." I say having trouble with a big bull.

T-"We just keep fighting untill I can turn them off." I say. then I point to a control panal on the other side of the feld.

T-I slip brhind a tree and yell "NOW scream you can't get me!" Then sneak into the shadows of the bleachers. I watch as the bull run to Tibia and make a fast and quiet get away to shut them off.

Josefina skated in on her roller skates. The dirt road of the track was bumpy and absolutely terrible on the wheels of her skates and that pissed her off to know end- but that was so closest think this lousy camp had to an actually skating rink/park or something, so it's have to do. She'd brought it up to Chiron several times, but he was just as oblivious and moronic as the rest of the stupid campers and refused to even ACKNOWLEDGE her.

Jo grit her teeth- the rocks were too rough on the wheels, and she'd have to replace them soon.

Jackson walked into the chariot track, his blonde hair messily over his tan shoulders that showed slightly from the sleeves of his orange t-shirt. His eyes, blue as the sky sparkled and the guitar hanging from the strap across his shoulder only enhanced the obvious fact that he was a son of Apollo. He was looking for a quiet place to play, sure hat the amphitheater wast as safe as people thought for music, almost anyone with ears could find and annoy you there, which he learned very quickly after his past attempts to practice there.

Of course, being a celebrity in the American mid-west didn't help his case of being alone much, he was often found by other people, campers who had heard his music or even seen him perform. He didn't mind the occasional recognition, but lately he didn't really want any. He had an actual life now, surrounded by demigods of all parentage and strengths, likes and dislikes. Earlier he had managed to help a child of ares even! Well, give her some specialty arrows. He yawned as he wandered along the dirt track, up to the metal stands and sat down, watching over the large track sectionC the wind softly blowing off the sound, bringing the pleasant scent of salt water. He wondered if anyone would actually find him here.

Now supposedly alone, he took his wooden acoustic guitar off his back an slid the familiar instrument into his hands. Smiling to himself he gently strummed a single note, then another, and another until it was a whole ensemble of notes all matching the others perfect in a familiar melody of a classic song, 'Don't stop believing' by the classic San Fransisco rock band from three decades or so back, Journey. Jackson loved journey, preferring the songs such as 'Lights' and a few other of the songs that made that band popular. Before long he found himself humming along, and then mumbling the lyrics along the notes of the song. He couldn't help but smile as this song brought him up, made him actual feel good, maybe even great.

Josefina Torriello had a temper. Oh, boy, did she had a temper. And that's putting it lightly. If there was anything one needed to know about Jo, it was that she was a strong, independent, Italian woman, and she had a temper. She was a bully- there's no denying that. But was she evil? The villain? The monster? No. Because there's no such thing as good an evil; only people and other people just trying to exist. Josefina was no different. She was loud, angry, rude, cold, hard and definitely a bully- but she made herself that way. She was broken; layer upon layer built up around her heart and making her cold.

She was very beautiful- dark, tan, olive skin; dark brown hard; hazel eyes; beautiful Italian accent- but she did her best to hide her beauty. She wore spiky jewelry, dark colored clothes, cool-colored make up, torn up jeans, her baseball cap turned backwards, and she always, always wore roller skates. Never shoes, always skates. She was a punk. A punk that was into Roller Derby. In that violent sport, she was widely known (and feared) as "The Bermuda Rose".

And so, when she heard music burst into the quiet calm of the chariot track- she felt her blood boil a little. Enough with the incessant caterwauling! Why couldn't anybody just shut up for five seconds and give her peace? People were always reaching out to her- trying to talk to her, trying to become friends- well she didn't need any of it! She didn't want to talk to anybody, she just wanted to think! Why can't anybody just think?!

Jo forced the feeling away, though. Forced herself to remain calm. So she just kept circling the track. Circling and thinking.
-until she wheel hit a rock (it was bound to happen) and she when flying into the dirt and rocks tumbling head first into the ground.

She got up-of course- she's sustained worse injuries. She seemed to have dislocated her shoulder (again) but paid no mind to it- she was too caught up in her damaged pride.

Jackson had watched the girl circle around the track again and again, and then saw her fall. His first intention was to charge over and help her, but then he recognized her as josefina torriello, or the Bermuda rose. He knew her 'work' well, he had seen a few roller derby in his life, and also because some of his half siblings ha mentioned her many times before. Instantly, he stopped playing, and put his guitar away, obvious that she did not want to hear journey, or anything else. He realized she was seeking quiet, like himself.

He carefully stood up, going to leave silently to leave her alone when he could feel her staring at him.

OOC: sorry it's short, my battery is about to die. Anyways, could she stop him from leaving or something?