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Fandom Camp Half-Blood: Titan Quest IC

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Chapter 1
  • Index
    • PixieDust

    PixieDust

    Ten Thousand Club
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    CAMP HALF-BLOOD CHAPTER 1: Camp's a Little Weird Today
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    Another summer at Camp Half-blood has begun. The perpetual sun seems just a little bit dimmer this morning and one attuned enough might even notice a chill in the air, but otherwise all is peaceful over Long Island Sound as it had been for quite some time. Chiron watches from the porch of The Big House with a sigh as the droves of campers, new and old enter through the camp gates with a quick greeting from Argus. The centaur knew he should be happy to see them, but the ominous feeling of dread would not leave the back of his mind. For now, however, it was simply time to greet campers and get the usual campfire singalong going. After all, none of the gods had mentioned anything to be wary of...​
     
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  • Index
    • It was always too quiet at Camp Half-Blood as a year-round camper. Callie Fernandez watched from the door of cabin seven as campers began to trickle through the gates of camp. A familiar warm feeling came over her at the sight. Summer was when it all really came to life here. Some faces she knew, others she didn't, which was surprising since she had lived there for so long and was quite the social butterfly. It had been a while since anything particularly dramatic had happened at camp, not since Gaea attempted to rise...Well a few campers had been given quests by their godly parents, but mostly it was pretty quiet.

    That was perfectly fine with her. She now had extra time to not be killed by monsters. That was always great! After a moment of simply watching campers, she decided to make her way to the gates and greet people, since she figured Argus-with his many many eyes- was an alarming sight to those not used to him.

    Something seemed off as she ventured out of golden Apollo cabin. The sun wasn't shining as brightly and...was that a chill she felt against her neck? No, the weather was always perfect at Camp.

    'Hi Argus!' she greeted with her usual radiant smile, 'Don't you just-'
    'Love the summer?'     Argus interrupted with an amused look, 'Yep, Callie, I know the spiel by now.'
    'Oh. Am I really getting that predictable?'     she replied, absently messing with one of the ten beads on her camp necklace before she was taken aback by arms wrapping around her middle.
    'Callie, Callie, look!' The blonde looked down at who had hugged her. A child who also had golden blonde hair and a toothy, sunny grin, no more than eight years old.
    'You lost another tooth, Margot?' she said, returning her half-sister's hug.     'That's awesome! Welcome back to camp.'









    It was always too quiet at Camp Half-Blood as a year-round camper. Callie Fernandez watched from the door of cabin seven as campers began to trickle through the gates of camp. A familiar warm feeling came over her at the sight. Summer was when it all really came to life here. Some faces she knew, others she didn't, which was surprising since she had lived there for so long and was quite the social butterfly. It had been a while since anything particularly dramatic had happened at camp, not since Gaea attempted to rise...Well a few campers had been given quests by their godly parents, but mostly it was pretty quiet.

    That was perfectly fine with her. She now had extra time to not be killed by monsters. That was always great! After a moment of simply watching campers, she decided to make her way to the gates and greet people, since she figured Argus-with his many many eyes- was an alarming sight to those not used to him.

    Something seemed off as she ventured out of golden Apollo cabin. The sun wasn't shining as brightly and...was that a chill she felt against her neck? No, the weather was always perfect at Camp.

    'Hi Argus!' she greeted with her usual radiant smile, 'Don't you just-'
    'Love the summer?'     Argus interrupted with an amused look, 'Yep, Callie, I know the spiel by now.'
    'Oh. Am I really getting that predictable?'     she replied, absently messing with one of the ten beads on her camp necklace before she was taken aback by arms wrapping around her middle.

    'Callie, Callie, look!' The blonde looked down at who had hugged her. A child who also had golden blonde hair and a toothy, sunny grin, no more than eight years old.
    'You lost another tooth, Margot?' she said, returning her half-sister's hug. 'That's awesome! Welcome back to camp.'







    Daughter of Apollo



    Callie.








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    dreavyn.





































    • mood



      Slightly annoyed while concentrating
















    "This Adamantine alloy is a tough bastard."


    Dreavyn elevated his right arm with precision, bringing down the Cross Pein hammer onto the seething slab of molten metal. A cascade of sparks ignited, dancing like fireflies throughout the expansive forge, while the resonant impact echoed through the nearly deserted Camp Forge. In the midst of the clamor outside, with rustling grass and the increasing chatter of campers filling the space, Dreavyn maintained focus. The ambient sounds outside, though intrusive, were blocked from his mind.

    The familiar scents of burning coal, the distinct aroma of Heat-Treated Steel, and the pervasive ash that could induce sneezes were absent. Undeterred, he struck the molten metal once more, beads of sweat enveloping his entire torso. The intense heat generated by the Forge caused rivulets of sweat to course down his face and back. While such physical exertion might have perturbed others, Dreavyn's body had acclimated to the demanding rigors of the blacksmith's craft.

    His chest bare, the dark, sweat-soaked apron clung tightly to him as he meticulously crafted a new armband, his muscles taut with effort. Dressed solely in black combat pants and boots, he preferred exposing his upper body in the scorching forge to avoid the risk of spontaneous combustion— an incident that had left him marked when crafting Iulius. His calloused hand, covered in ash, firmly gripped the Cross Pein Hammer, while the other held onto the molten metal slab. Despite the absence of a striking vise in the equipment room, he skillfully managed the task with both hands, magically shielded from the searing heat and flames. An invisible, mystical barrier guarded his face, allowing him to work undisturbed.

    Foreseeing the influx of campers on this particular morning, he made it a tradition to arrive a day or two before the commencement of the summer. Every year, he took the time to organize himself, ensuring a smooth transition into the bustling camp atmosphere. Throughout the summer, he maintained a reserved demeanor, becoming a fleeting presence visible only during this annual season and even then, barely seen. Despite not outwardly displaying it, he harbored an eagerness to encounter new faces within the camp. The perils and wretched existence of a demigod seemed to only lead to death, a harsh reality that Dreavyn witnessed as numerous young lives were lost, burdening him with a heavy sense of grief. The time spent at camp could at least ease the kids into this cruel reality.

    Albeit all that was going on outside, he hoped he could draw out the molten metal slab of Adamantine alloy before the bustling activity of the Campe Forge intensified.

































    cry for love



    백현










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    happy and excited as always
    zackary greenview

    Waking up bright and early was nothing new for Zackary, He liked to get up early to get his morning routine over and done with. Not rushing through it of course, He is Aphrodite’s son after all and even though he tended to look a bit messy and not put together. It was intentional and purposeful of course. That is just how the chestnut haired male rolled. The demi-god wasn’t one to want to look like he put too much effort into his appearance wanting that effortless just rolled outta bed vibe. Hehe! Yeah! He thought it made him seem so cool! But did it? Who knows! When Zackary finally rolled his way out of the cabin, with a quick hand running fingers through his hair to make sure the curls just sat right atop his head.


    Looking effortlessly his best was His thing after all. A bright shining smile across his lips as usual. His personality made him seem like He was less of an Aphrodite kid and more of an Apollo kid. But his mom was Aphrodite that was for sure since He had been claimed all those years ago. Warmth in his gaze as He peered out to see the influx of New Campers arriving at camp. AH that was today wasn’t it!


    “ Ah yes new arrivals for summer right?” He spoke to himself cheerfully as He clasped his hands together and made his way over to get a closer view. Stepping off the front of the cabin entrance and deciding to sit down right in front of it. His cheerful peppy demeanor made him a very friendly face towards newer camps, well at least Zackary thought so! He was always trying to make people smile and that was his goal for his year once again. Being a year round camper made that goal so much easier at least.


    Tapping fingers lightly onto the dirt beside him humming soft a tune. Not the greatest hummer by any means but it was just a cheerful little ditty. One He found a certain fondness for to keep his the best of spirits for him. He eventually stopped just watching the trail of campers come in before pushing himself up and brushing himself off to keep his clothing clean. The beaming smile still on his face and a delightful twinkle in his eyes. This was going to be an amazing summer! Zackary just knew it! He was so excited to see what it brought! He was over the moon thrilled to be able to be at the camp and be able to hopefully bring lots of smiles to his fellow campers faces. After all that was always his goal!


    • outfit


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    Celaena Saria


    Daughter of Hades - Camper










    Mood:


    Bored, Exasperated, and Slightly Annoyed







    Location:


    Camp Half-Blood: Climbing Wall







    Outfit:


    click me!








    Tags:


    Open to interaction













    Ebony hair flashed as Celaena Saria, Daughter of Hades, made her way from her cabin. The piercing gaze scanned the camp in an almost bored manner as the teen made her way quietly through the cabins and towards the Climbing Wall. Grey jeans hugged slight curves as the 'Ice Queen' crossed the lawn. A slight smile twitched across dainty lips as kids swarmed around her. Cel hadn't been at camp long, having been on the run from about halfway across the world. Cel was actually Australian and was born and raised on Bruny Island. Her very heavy Australian accent caused the girl to be the focus of many younger campers. She endured the questions and constant 'badgering' from youngsters, and she did have a weak spot for kids despite her godly parent.

    Celaena had been at camp for two years, having arrived when she was 16 years old. She lost her mother due to a Manticore attack, and during her race to camp, she gained many scars. A very obvious one was on her shoulder blade, and the snake bite on her ankle also was a fun story to tell kids. Wherever Celaena went, you could almost always notice a large hound with red eyes following her close behind. Sareil was found as a pup by Cel during her travel to camp. Sareil was named after her mother, and not many knew the reason behind her name, but Celaena wouldn't have it any other way.

    Celaena gently detangled herself from the kids before heading toward her original destination, the climbing wall. Once there, Cel exchanged glances with Sareil, and the hellhound went to one side. Settling down in the shadows to watch as her mistress casually got herself ready. Clipping a harness onto her hips, attached to her jeans, her off-the-shoulder black tee-shirt top also became fitted with the lines and all the equipment needed for a successful climb. Celaena casually ignored the looks she felt at the back of her head as she set to the route, placing one foot on a hold before reaching up with both hands and beginning her climb.












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    Scene One.















    scroll

    Auguste



    The Prodigy




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    oh dear oh dear oh dear











    OUTFIT




    Basically Pajamas











    LOCATION




    Hi Callie











    MENTIONS




    Callie









    INTERACTS




    PixieDust PixieDust

















    Eat Your Young — Hozier.
































































    scroll






    Temporal Rebirth.




    Continual cycling, never ending, the same things rise and fall and repeat






























    SCENE ONE.

    With every light cast, there is a shadow made. Thus is the way of life – everything in nature balanced as one. Every splotch of good had a little evil, and every evil had a little good. And through this cycle, the world turns.

    The walls of the cabin were made so that streams of light could fall through, golden and bright like the sun itself. Bathed in divinity, the sons and daughters of healing and music rose, bustling with activity while playing in their father’s domain.

    A smudge of black against gold, the shadow created by the light, Auguste held two needles between his hand as a small rotund creature began making shape. Today was the day that all of the summer people were coming and he could not be more nervous. That many people? He was going to step on so many toes. Oh that wasn't good.

    Stepping on toes meant people shouting at him. People shouting at him meant he might get angry. If he got angry-

    No no it's best he stayed where the gaudy pillars of light protected him in his bunk until the storm arrived…

    …

    …

    He was hungry.

    He couldn't be hungry when people arrived, it put him in a bad mood. When he was in a bad mood, it could lead to violen- no he had to get something to eat.

    The giant loomed, all of the light seemed to be sucked from the room when he approached, everything seemed so much smaller, so fragile when he moved. Like a ghost, because such a massive monster surely couldn't move without a single environmental disturbance, right?

    A single red piece of temptation plucked from the wooden bowl of a pavilion, bitten into singularly held by a hand which dwarfed its relatively large size.

    Eating alone was scary and intimidating, people – strangers – might be tempted to actually interact with him. How terrifying.

    No.

    The terrifying dark mass, unaware of the very deliberate attempts by the people around him to create a small bubble of space around him, began to move once more. Much to the relief of those around.

    Friend? Friend!

    He saw someone he liked, and like a ship who had finally found its anchor, he began to gravitate behind her.

    The people she was greeting shrank back, as the shadow as large as the friendly light she cast loomed behind her, blotting out the sun.

    He was terrifying. Massive, gloomy, locks of hair in his eyes, wild and almost feral in appearance. Perhaps on the verge of violence at any given moment of terrifying icy stare which pierced through any and all defenses.

    He shuffled his feet back and forth as he hunched over, trying to be less intimidating.

    The effect was that he became a looming reaper — a specter of death ready to claim innocent souls.

    “... Hi.” His voice was low and soft, accented with French. The disparity of rumbling quiet was disconcerting to the monstrous appearance, something further to throw people off balance. Everything he said sounded vaguely threatening just through appearance. “... ehm…”

    He ripped the apple in half like it was paper and then offered it to her

    “... apple?”

    He was trying.





























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    Bashi Ravern


    Pearls of sharp countenance descend upon fowl. Tearing, gnashing, rendering. Beasts come in all shapes and sizes. Hunkered in shadow, designed with the wild in mind, Bashi sits. And eats. Some of the other kids in the mess hall avoid the carnage that is Bashi devouring a whole chicken, some of the younger campers lean closer in awe. Bashi pays them no mind, consumed by the act of consuming. They're done fairly quickly, always having eaten fast since he was young. Pocketing the clean bones and dumping the rest, Bashi washes their hands. There's something about greasy hands they can only stand while eating.





    Socked feet touch grass as Bashi exits the mess hall, quiet. Bashi hasn't spoken for the first day of summer in seven years. As verbose as other campers are, Bashi finds speaking difficult at times. Overwhelmed by the arrival of people and all their chatter, he clams up. Getting him to speak when he feels no desire to is impossible. His face belays words perfectly fine with expression to those who are important and care. The first day of summer is a crash course in Bashi body language. Other campers either know this already, or find out soon enough.





    Bashi knows Ilya and if he was going to be anywhere, he would be helping summer campers settle in. Apollo cabin is far enough from the mess hall that if Bashi wants to get to Ilya before he's swarmed for the day, he should really pick up the pace. So they do. Quick like a cat, Bashi races through camp, passing by other campers. Skidding to a halt in front of Apollo cabin, Bashi passes by Callie and Auggie. Even the smell of apples doesn't deter him from his goal. From there, Bashi walks right into Ilya’s space, demanding to be noticed. They dig their hand into their pocket and carefully hold out the handful of chicken bones in their cupped palms. Mission accomplished. Bones delivered.







    coded by: @s e v e n





     
    Larua Eldrige
    Location:     Her room Hephaestus cabin
    Mentions:
    ​
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    Summer, a time of great joy for many of the half bloods of the camp, for Laura it was a time of annoyance. She hated the extra noise all the new and returning people caused. She hated that now there would be so many more people for her to avoid, more eyes to look down on her and for her to hide from. She already thought the camp was crowded during the none summer months, ideally it would free of people, but it never was. Laura knew she was stuck here at this camp for likely forever or until she decided to leave, but given how she couldn't really fight monsters this was a life long prison. Laura did wonder how many more people the gods had ruined this year. that was what they did, they ruined lives no one here was ever happy with their lot in life thanks to the god and yet Laura couldn't help but hate them for thinking they had it bad when at least they could defend themselves. They were not a shriveled albino creature that even normal people could over power. Well her weakened body did mean one thing, she didn't suffer the same normal mental maladies they did as she lacked what caused those.

    Laura leaned back in her chair and looked around her cluttered darkened room lit only by the light from her monitor and sighed. She already had far more private space than most campers and yet she wondered if she should expand her room more. her room wasn't an actual room, but rather an extra space created by magic, a pocket dimension that she slowly pushed out room by room and with various mystical means she could shrink or grow it. That of course took time and a lot of work, it was no easy feat and Laura wasn't in the mood to set up all that. She also would have to go up to the main cabin as her room was built into where her bed would be. instead of a bed in her bunk there was a stairway that lead to the door that lead to her room.
    Along the shelves she had made were various projects, some complete, some abandoned. She had samples of various metals rare and common, weapons forged from most of these metals and a few ones she had tried and failed to alter. She also had countless electronics, many shipped to the camp from outside. She had enough junk to fill a cabin by herself and yet she wasn't happy with most of it. None of it really was anything special in her mind. So what if she could make blades with minds of their own, hammers that amplified their impact, to her it was not enough, not special. That was what she really wanted, something special to show the others and perhaps herself she wasn't the most useless fuck up in the camp. Laura wished that her godly parent had never taken a shine to her mother, then she could have had a much better life and not been so cursed with weakness and deformity.

    Laura growled in annoyance at the world and while she could go back to playing games she was to annoyed and needed to do something. She needed to work out her anger at the world. She would just make something. That was always helpful when she was feeling annoyed. That did mean going outside because she didn't have a forge in her room. She really would have to fix that. Maybe that was what's he should do fix that so she could avoid others? She would need a door frame if she was going to make another smaller space within her altered space. She would need to visit the forge.

    " Uhhhgg " Laura sighed and this managed to get the attention of Legs who had been napping in Laura's bed. He had been mostly made into a dog in a centipede's body so it made sense for him to want her bed over his enclosure. Maybe she should try the spells on another creature and see what she could do, maybe make something even smarter. "
    Come on we are going out     " Laura said and Legs perked up. he skittered off Laura's bed and over and onto her as she got up from her chair. Laura wouldn't bother changing. She woudl go out in her dirty oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. It didn't really seem like proper protection for working with a forge, but Laura had never been harmed by lack of protection.

    Legs climbed up onto Laur'a shoulder and the two would leave her room and head up into the main cabin. Luckily it seemed everyone was off playing meet and greet so she was alone in the cabin no one to bug her about leaving. The very idea of talking to others annoyed her and that fact it was her, godly siblings only made her more angry. her hate of their shared father transferring to his kids as she couldn't vent at him directly. Laura in her mind had two parents both of which were just humans, her godly father wasn't family he was as much family as a sperm donor would be. She hated everything related to him. The fact she got some traits from him was annoying, she wanted to reject it all, but then she would have absolutely nothing.

    Leaving the cabin Laura wouldn't go the main way to the forge, but rather less traveled back paths. She avoided people and even at night would rather sneak off into hidden paths over risk dealing with another night owl. The back paths weren't anything special in truth it wasn't like the was wandering through a forest, through there were plenty of trees to block he rpath and other;s sight. She didn't expect to meet anyone on her way there anyways, they should all be bring social.
     





    SCENE ONE.















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    Ilya



    The Doctor




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    ... Okay!











    OUTFIT




    He has 0 style sorry











    LOCATION




    Apollo's Cabin











    MENTIONS




    Bashi









    INTERACTS




    -ferret- -ferret-

















    Dead Sea — The Lumineers.
































































    scroll






    Humanist's Folly.




    Extend the self, till all that remains is scattered to the winds






























    Scene One.

    You shall do no harm.

    He was a doctor after all, at the end of the day. Though nowadays Ilya didn't feel particularly divine. Maybe in his youth, his old age of 19 meant his bones creaked a little and he noticed the lines on his face creasing a little more. Aging, everyone did it, but perhaps a bit premature on his part.

    Not that it mattered, if it was what he suspected it was, he could deal with the cosmetics of an elderly. There were things to do, though. For some reason, campers were already sat in the medbay awaiting gently applied lotion to reddened skin.

    He liked these injuries, sunburns, they were normal. Routine. Not lethal or maimed.

    Applied with a warm, steady hand, aloe vera ointment rubbed in with a bandaid carefully placed on top. “Try to wear sunscreen next time.”

    The soft, mellow voice that he had practiced over years of quieting children with scraped knees and tear stricken faces. Gentle and understanding – what he’d been told was an impeccable bedside manner.

    Sometimes he wondered if campers came in just to feel loved for a little while, gods only knew that half of these people suffered from daddy or mommy issues.

    Skittered and practically feral, a teenager came running up to him. Hand held out in both shock and routine, bones were placed in them. Ilya stood there for a moment, normally intelligent eyes staring into Bashi’s with a blank confused stare.

    And then his mind caught up to speed and his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he put the bones away, lest they concern someone else.

    “Why thank you, Bashi.” He said, though never quite losing the doctor tinge to his voice. He also knew better than to question where exactly the demigod had gotten these… bones. “I trust this means that your school season went well?”

    Kindness wrapped in the promise of friendship. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary for Ilya, he was as mellow to Bashi as he was to just about everyone at all times. Amicable, though a bit inscrutable. More worried for others than he was himself.

    Some, if you were of the paranoid type, called it suspicious how universally pleasant interactions with him were. Or maybe that was just the maturity of someone who had grown up faster than his peers.

    Never one to talk about himself, just how everyone else was doing.

    “Get into any trouble?”





























    ♡coded by uxie♡
     





    HALLOWEEN.















    scroll

    Aurelian



    The Chef




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    Frustrated, what else











    OUTFIT




    Punk ass bitch











    LOCATION




    Forge











    MENTIONS




    Auguste, Drea









    INTERACTS




    Xen6n Xen6n

















    HELL ABOVE — PIERCE THE VEIL
































































    scroll






    The Tertiary Sin.




    Boiling deep within, a bubbling heat of wrath. Venom seeping through bladed lexicon






























    OCTOBER 31ST.

    BOOM.

    Aurelian ducked as a piece of celestial bronze went flying directly at his head. Shattered bronze glittered at their feet as he threw the hilt of the now broken sword away. He brought his fists up and began punching his opponent in the face.

    Face. Kidney. Uppercut. Paired with careful dodges and well timed strikes, his opponent was quickly on the ground dazed and confused and giving up.

    A god, victorious. Sculpted body, shining and glorious with muscles. A true king…

    And utterly pissed off

    “Hey. Hey. Don't go fucking easy on me. You’re literally the son of the fucking god of war- You can do better. Get up you absolute waste of flesh-”

    A pleasant personality to boot. Though, perhaps more like his father than anyone would be willing to admit.

    When the fight was over, he scowled as he kicked at the shards of sword scattered upon the ground. “Piece of shit can’t get through one battle without breaking on me.”

    The kid on the ground teared up and began to cry as Aurelian seemingly described him as broken. To which, the perpetually frustrated teenager’s head whipped around and he snarled “Oh fuck off and go back to training, you need it.”

    Growled as he cleaned up the larger shards to discard in the trash. He wasn’t quite sure why they all broke like they did, but it was incredibly annoying.

    He was trying to not feel too bad about destroying someone’s hard work within one battle.

    Was it maybe he needed something thicker? The big fucker used a staff, maybe that’d work better… Especially with the force in his swings.

    Was he putting too much force in his swings?

    He thought to himself as he stormed into the armory, staring at all of the weapons with narrowed eyes. No, no. He greatly preferred the sword, so it wouldn’t really do to change now, would it?

    “Hey fuckface.” He threw the door open to the forge with a loud bang. “...”

    Took in Drea’s current appearance and him in the middle of doing something, orange eyes reflecting the fire from the forge with a flash of annoyance. Either from having to ask for help in the first place, or the fact that he wasn't currently the center of Drea's attention. Only the gods would know the answer to that one.

    “Sweaty bitchass.”

    Look at how friendly he was being!

    “I need you to answer some fucking questions.”

    The request sounded more like an order barked from the bitchiest drill sergeant.

    “Do you know any sword types that are thicker than the pieces of shit we have going on here. I keep breaking the flimsy fucking toothpicks and it’s getting really fucking annoying having to replace them every single fucking time I fight.”





























    ♡coded by uxie♡
     
    CODE BY SEROBLISS
    Damien De Luca
    Son of Hades

    Damien De Luca was, unmistakably and irrevocably, the Son of Hades. He’d never met his father, nor was he all that eager to, but just one glance at the towering, blue-eyed demigod made it near-obvious which otherworldly blood was coursing through his veins—be it from the icy lack of emotion in his eyes, no doubt a result of seeing death in different forms every night and day since he was young, or from the way the young man carried himself after losing everything that mattered to him.

    He didn’t know what to expect from Camp Half-Blood. On one hand, he was more than relieved to find out he wasn’t the only one of his kind—he'd finally be in a place where he wasn’t losing his mind desperately trying to hide the fact that he was different. On the other hand, the haunting series of events following his last birthday left Damien reluctant to make friends again, even if he did still long for a community deep down.

    This time around, he didn’t want to be the centre of attention regardless of whether the attention was positive or negative. He'd spent his whole life up until last year foolishly trying and only temporarily succeeding to fit in with people who only liked him conditionally, and after all that he had built came crashing down, the only thing left was himself and his unfortunate relation to the underworld. Yeah... The outskirts of a camp for magical freaks would do him just fine.

    Damien was among the crowd of campers slowly filtering in through the entrance, occasionally catching himself double-taking at those with animal appendages and more than two legs before reminding himself that difference was going to be the norm from now on, which wasn’t a bad thing in the slightest albeit very new to him. For a moment, he even felt a twinge of envy. Sure, Damien wasn’t the only new camper, but for the most part, it seemed like everyone else had known about Camp Half-Blood and the fact that they were half-blood for years.

    Regardless, he hoisted his backpack further up one of his shoulders and continued lumbering forwards with one hand supporting the strap, this time not looking at anybody in particular as the moving crowd seemed to be slowing down the closer they got to the gates. De Luca had no idea where Hades Cabin was due to never having stepped foot inside the camp before, but he was ready to find out by himself if he needed to.
     
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    Brown eyes fluttered open. The son of Hecate woke up to the scent of wood and the feel of morning dew at his fingertips. It had not rained at camp of course, it never did, but Bryce had enchanted the small patch of space around him to sprinkle little drops of rain, just enough to remind him of home. It had stopped drizzling as soon as he had fallen asleep against the tree he'd sat himself under.

    In the distance, he thought he heard the faint murmurings of campers arriving. A deep sigh. His peace would be over soon. It wouldn't be long before others decided to take a walk in the forest and intrude on his bliss. Bryce glanced down at the spell book that had escaped his grasp and now lay open on the grass: Illusory Magic: Mysteries of the Mist. He had never been as adept as his sibling Dreavyn when it came to illusions. A grimace marred his handsome features at the thought of it. He did not like being bested at all, but a challenge was still better than no challenge at all...

    Dreavyn. He was probably here now too. He hadn't seen him, but then again, Bryce had decided to stay out alone in the forest as soon as he'd arrived early to camp just so he could practice without being disturbed.

    The boy picked up the book beside him and stood. He supposed he'd have to head back toward the chaos now, but he'd had an interesting dream that night. The ground beneath him had been whispering faint unintelligible murmurs and then it had begun to rise, as though yearning for something. After that faint golden lines like threads had extended out from his body in all directions; first south, then north, west, east...

    Then he woke.

    Perhaps he should tell someone about it, but then again, why should he. if it was important other 'heroes' could figure it out on their own. it was hardly his concern.

    He watched others milling about as he reached the clearing, wondering aimlessly. He guessed that he'd sketched nearly everyone by now, but people watching was always satisfying. Soon his gaze landed on someone pleasantly familiar. Or rather something. A hellhound, Sariel to be precise. Others may not have noticed her watching her human friend from the shadows, but Bryce always noticed.

    Sure enough, Celaena, daughter of Hades was at the climbing wall. Instead of approaching her, he approached the young hellhound and silently stuck out his hand for her to sniff if she wished before speaking.
    'Climbing again, huh? I'm shocked.'










    Brown eyes fluttered open. The son of Hecate woke up to the scent of wood and the feel of morning dew at his fingertips. It had not rained at camp of course, it never did, but Bryce had enchanted the small patch of space around him to sprinkle little drops of rain, just enough to remind him of home. It had stopped drizzling as soon as he had fallen asleep against the tree he'd sat himself under.

    In the distance, he thought he heard the faint murmurings of campers arriving. A deep sigh. His peace would be over soon. It wouldn't be long before others decided to take a walk in the forest and intrude on his bliss. Bryce glanced down at the spell book that had escaped his grasp and now lay open on the grass: Illusory Magic: Mysteries of the Mist. He had never been as adept as his sibling Dreavyn when it came to illusions. A grimace marred his handsome features at the thought of it. He did not like being bested at all, but a challenge was still better than no challenge at all...

    Dreavyn. He was probably here now too. He hadn't seen him, but then again, Bryce had decided to stay out alone in the forest as soon as he'd arrived early to camp just so he could practice without being disturbed.

    The boy picked up the book beside him and stood. He supposed he'd have to head back toward the chaos now, but he'd had an interesting dream that night. The ground beneath him had been whispering faint unintelligible murmurs and then it had begun to rise, as though yearning for something. After that faint golden lines like threads had extended out from his body in all directions; first south, then north, west, east...

    Then he woke.

    Perhaps he should tell someone about it, but then again, why should he. if it was important other 'heroes' could figure it out on their own. it was hardly his concern.

    He watched others milling about as he reached the clearing, wondering aimlessly. He guessed that he'd sketched nearly everyone by now, but people watching was always satisfying. Soon his gaze landed on someone pleasantly familiar. Or rather something. A hellhound, Sariel to be precise. Others may not have noticed her watching her human friend from the shadows, but Bryce always noticed.

    Sure enough, Celaena, daughter of Hades was at the climbing wall. Instead of approaching her, he approached the young hellhound and silently stuck out his hand for her to sniff if she wished before speaking.
    'Climbing again, huh? I'm shocked.'







    Son of Hecate



    Bryce.








    • filler tab!





    ♡coded by uxie♡
     











    Celaena Saria


    Daughter of Hades - Camper










    Mood:


    Shocked, Amused, and Startled







    Location:


    Camp Half-Blood: Climbing Wall







    Outfit:


    click me!








    Tags:


    Bryce PixieDust PixieDust Damien Zombie. Zombie.













    Sariel had not looked away from her mistress as the girl climbed to the top of the wall. Her tail wagged as a new voice reached her ears, and red eyes turned to see a hand in front of her nose. The hellhound gave a soft woof as she gave a gentle lick to the hand of Bryce. Her eyes flashed to her mistress as she gave a startled sound before losing her grip on the wall. The large canine gave a worried whine as Cel fell to the ground. When the ebony-haired girl stood up, a low woof escaped the hellhound as she saw the disgruntled expression with mussed-up hair to top it off. A new scent wove through the air, causing the canine to pause in her study of her favorite human, and her red orbs fell upon a ... well ... broody dark-haired half-blood that had just entered the camp.

    Celaena was focused solely on climbing the wall. Her hands moved to each hold she needed with practiced ease. The murmurs and whispers did not even phase the girl as she climbed. Cel was so focused that when Bryce spoke, she couldn't resist the slightly shocked squeak that escaped her lips. Losing her grip, Celaena fell from the wall, grasping the rope and managing to slow her fall to land in a very undignified pile of jeans, hair, and shirt. Looking up, she gave a slight death glare at her hellhound friend as she felt her hair stick up in all different directions, looking for every purpose like lightning struck her head on. "Thank you for that, Bryce." Sarcasm laced her tone as she stood up. Dusting off her jeans and huffing in annoyance. She glared at Sariel. "And you ... are not helping Sariel!" She scolded gently, no bite at all in her tone. Her tone, if anything, sounded slightly exasperated and amused, too.

    Cel sighed as she dusted herself off fully. "How are you doing?" Her voice was tinged with her accent, the Australian tones coming forth as she spoke. Running practiced hands over her messed up hair, she fixed up the damage done through her little... mishap. The daughter of Hades turned her gaze from her friend towards Sariel as the hellhound gave an inquisitive whine towards a dark-haired newcomer that she didn't recognize at all. "Bryce, do you know who that is?" Mercury-dipped orbs were curious but wary. The boy seemed ... familiar in a way. That in and of itself caused Cel to be cautious of the newcomer. However, maybe she and Bruce could avoid interacting with anyone for a while. Cel wasn't a fan of people anyway. Bryce was her main and only friend so far. She preferred it that way.











    ♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

     
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    'And Callie, did you know...' Little Margot continued to regale her with tales of her time away from camp as she grabbed hold of her hand. Callie was now only half listening. After all, she had a job to do: she was here at the entrance to greet campers and guide new faces to the Big House where the orientation movie would be shown. It was the best way to keep herself occupied. She needed it. Her eyelids were becoming heavier every minute, but she was not going to sleep.
    'Hi I'm Callie, welcome to Camp Half-'

    The blonde girl stopped in mid-sentence as she gaged the expressions on the faces of those she was greeting and those further away from her. Looks of horror mixed with some of apprehension. One boy seemed to be moving toward a pen knife and squinting suspiciously at her. Why were they staring at her like that?

    'Hi.' A soft voice tinted with a French accent. Callie turned to see her half-brother Auguste, although really she did not have to turn very much. She was so much shorter than him that he practically hulked above her. Her expression softened as she looked up at him. He was trying so hard and the expressions on the other campers' faces irritated her.

    When Auguste ripped up an apple for her to share with him, she took it from him with a little more force than intended because it was at that moment the boy with the pen knife commented.

    'Is that some kind of gi-'

    'He, is my brother. Thanks Auguste.'     She stared the pen knife kid down with piercing green eyes, daring anyone else to comment further. No one did. From the corner of her eyes she thought she saw Argus throw an approving smile toward her and a reassuring look toward her brother.

    The line kept moving. As it did so, Callie began feeling an awful clamminess, as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice down her back. She frowned and without realising it, her grip tightened on little Margot's hand and the apple in her other hand which was now ground to a pulp.

    'I'll see you again real soon Callie...' a familiar voice seemed to whisper in her ears.

    Callie froze in place. Soon she was facing a boy around her own age with chillingly blue eyes. He seemed to loom over her.

    'You know I won't fail this quest...' the voice whispered again.

    'Zayne?' she muttered before shifting uncomfortably, trying to shake the memory of the lost son of Hermes. Lost, not dead, she had to tell herself.

    'Ow!' Margot's voice brought her out of her reverie. She let go of her little sister's hand quickly, apologised and shook her head, trying to put a smile back on her face as she briefly greeted the ominous boy.

    'Hi, I'm Callie....welcome to camp!' She didn't dare offer her hand to shake or even look at him directly. He gave her the creeps. She found herself instinctively drawing closer to Auguste.









    'And Callie, did you know...' Little Margot continued to regale her with tales of her time away from camp as she grabbed hold of her hand. Callie was now only half listening. After all, she had a job to do: she was here at the entrance to greet campers and guide new faces to the Big House where the orientation movie would be shown. It was the best way to keep herself occupied. She needed it. Her eyelids were becoming heavier every minute, but she was not going to sleep.
    'Hi I'm Callie, welcome to Camp Half-'

    The blonde girl stopped in mid-sentence as she gaged the expressions on the faces of those she was greeting and those further away from her. Looks of horror mixed with some of apprehension. One boy seemed to be moving toward a pen knife and squinting suspiciously at her. Why were they staring at her like that?

    'Hi.' A soft voice tinted with a French accent. Callie turned to see her half-brother Auguste, although really she did not have to turn very much. She was so much shorter than him that he practically hulked above her. Her expression softened as she looked up at him. He was trying so hard and the expressions on the other campers' faces irritated her.

    When Auguste ripped up an apple for her to share with him, she took it from him with a little more force than intended because it was at that moment the boy with the pen knife commented.

    'Is that some kind of gi-'

    'He, is my brother. Thanks Auguste.'     She stared the pen knife kid down with piercing green eyes, daring anyone else to comment further. No one did. From the corner of her eyes she thought she saw Argus throw an approving smile toward her and a reassuring look toward her brother.

    The line kept moving. As it did so, Callie began feeling an awful clamminess, as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice down her back. She frowned and without realising it, her grip tightened on little Margot's hand and the apple in her other hand which was now ground to a pulp.

    'I'll see you again real soon Callie...' a familiar voice seemed to whisper in her ears.

    Callie froze in place. Soon she was facing a boy around her own age with chillingly blue eyes. He seemed to loom over her.

    'You know I won't fail this quest...' the voice whispered again.

    'Zayne?' she muttered before shifting uncomfortably, trying to shake the memory of the lost son of Hermes. Lost, not dead, she had to tell herself.

    'Ow!' Margot's voice brought her out of her reverie. She let go of her little sister's hand quickly, apologised and shook her head, trying to put a smile back on her face as she briefly greeted the ominous boy.

    'Hi, I'm Callie....welcome to camp!' She didn't dare offer her hand to shake or even look at him directly. He gave her the creeps. She found herself instinctively drawing closer to Auguste.







    Daughter of Apollo



    Callie.








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    ♡coded by uxie♡
     



    dreavyn.





































    • mood



      Very annoyed but with a mix of suspicion and confusion
















    Suppressing a strong urge, Dreavyn refrained from launching the forging hammer at Aurelian. The demigod's excessive volume, coupled with his abrupt entrance and forceful intrusion into the Forge, left Dreavyn considerably startled—albeit only internally. Nevertheless, he continued to strike the molten Adamantine alloy with heightened force, directing his annoyance into the blows.

    Resting the Cross Pein Hammer on the anvil, he finally shifted his focus to Aurelian. With a disdainful glare directed at the handsome asshole, he let out a profound sigh and proceeded to untie the leather apron he wore.

    "Yes Aurelian, what is it."


    Stripping it away from his glistening, well-defined torso, he casually tossed it onto a weathered, rusty rack nearby before strolling over to a stool a short distance from Ari.

    Dreavyn was caught off guard when Aurelian, whom he didn't know well, unexpectedly sought answers. It left Dreavyn wondering if Aurelian could genuinely seek advice or if his inquiry was just another display of his usual brash demeanor.

    In order for him to approach Dreavyn with a question, it had to be a matter of utmost significance – perhaps a life-or-death scenario, I'm I right? The revelation that Dreavyn was present in the Forge only intensified his suspicion about Aurelian's motives, prompting him to question why Aurelian, with his already inflated ego, found himself seeking assistance in such a peculiar manner.

    Putting aside those thoughts, his only desire was to finish this and allow Aurelian to proceed on his own way.

    "Go on, ask away."


    When Aurelian inquired about the existence of swords thicker than the standard ones produced and supplied to the armory. Dreavyn's response was a heavy sigh while wiping the sweat off his face, already feeling a migraine coming from the realization.

    "So your the fucking idiot that was breaking all those swords for the past few years! We've already gotten 5 full buckets of shattered swords for just this year!"


    Dreavyn vehemently gestured towards the brimming buckets containing shattered remnants of Celestial Bronze swords, conspicuously strewn in the corner of the Forge.

    "These shit dont grow on trees you know."


    Following his tirade, he gently rubbed his temples, releasing a sigh of resignation. He realized that succumbing to anger towards Aurelian would be counterproductive, potentially sparking unnecessary conflict—something he was keen on sidestepping.

    "The problem isnt the thickness of the sword. Celestial Bronze cant compensate for the amount of force you apply to it. Getting a thicker sword would just yeiled the same result as the other swords you used."


    Dreavyn rose from his seat, taking deliberate steps toward the formidable demigod. His demeanor remained composed, reverting to the familiar nonchalant attitude. Aurelian didnt frighten Dreavyn; instead, he merely served as a source of irritation. Despite this irksome quality, Dreavyn perceived an underlying turmoil within Aurelian, a silent struggle consuming him. However, Dreavyn did not want intervene, recognizing that it wasn't his role. Nevertheless, an unmistakable concern lingered beneath the surface, though he would never show it.

    "I had a similar issue years ago, unlike you however, my problem wasnt my physical strength but my mystical strength. My magical abilities were excessively strong. I would inscribe numerous runes and enchantments on my Celestial Bronze swords, yet whenever I wielded them in combat, they would always shatter into dust."


    He found himself divulging more to Aurelian than he initially intended, perplexed by the realization. Yet, he believed that offering a substantial explanation might dissuade Aurelian from persisting with further questions, hoping for him to go away once his questions were answered.

    "So i made Iulius."


    In a sudden surge of mystical azure energy, his spear, Iulius, materialized with ethereal brilliance in his right hand. Crafted from the rare fusion of Adamantine and Stygian Iron, the Spear exuded an enchanting blend of emerald and shadowy brilliance. It possessed a darkness so profound, as if Nyx herself cradled the weapon, making light shun its very presence. The silvered emerald sheen of the Adamantine adorned select sections of the spear, capturing the essence of moonlight with a soft green glow, notably accentuating the base and spearhead. Artistry adorned the pole and spearhead, featuring intricately engraved ravens, dogs, and even minute depictions of Tartarus near the hilt's upper part.

    Additionally, radiant sigils, akin to those adorning his arms, ran along the length of the spear, with the spearhead showcasing these arcane markings prominently. The enchanted runes emitted a gentle, profound green glow.

    "What I'm saying is that you need to get a sword made from a different material, or a mixture of two"


































    cry for love



    백현










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    SCENE ONE.















    scroll

    Aurelian



    The Chef




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    Frustrated, what else











    OUTFIT




    Punk ass bitch











    LOCATION




    Forge











    MENTIONS




    Auguste, Drea









    INTERACTS




    Xen6n Xen6n

















    HELL ABOVE — PIERCE THE VEIL
































































    scroll






    The Tertiary Sin.




    Boiling deep within, a bubbling heat of wrath. Venom seeping through bladed lexicon






























    SCENE ONE.

    Aurelian was trying his best to ask politely for help… Politely, in his case, is immediately insulting someone and then demanding that they answer questions as a form of interrogation rather than pointed studious remarks.

    “Well maybe the swords should be thicker if they don’t want to be broken.” He huffed, a bull in a china shop, truly, as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed. “And I know how swords get fucking made I’m not fucking stupid.”

    Another scoff as he settled deeper into the aggression. Regret only adding another log to the fire that was his spiteful rage. Distrust ran deep in red blooded veins, a flash of wary irritation as Drea took a step towards him, tension running in his shoulders despite the very casual lean he was maintaining.

    “Yet whenever I wielded them in combat, they would always shatter into dust” Came the tail end of a paltry attempt at empathy.
    “And here you are lecturing me about breaking my swords.” Aurelian snapped back, proverbial olive branch immediately lit into flames upon touching the perpetually snarly unclaimed demigod.
    “So I made Iulius.”
    “... You named your motherfuckin-”

    Upon a bright flash of blue, now the son of Hecate was holding a weapon and Aurelian had almost immediately stiffened into standing at the display, almost expecting the inevitable fight to occur as his shoulder dropped into a basic fighter’s stance.

    “What I’m saying-” And relaxed once more into bored lecturing as the demigod more or less stared at the weapon, his lecturer’s arm, the power gently thrumming from both, bathed in an unnatural green glow.

    He didn’t like it. It made him nervous, and nerves were just more kindling.

    “-mixture of two.”

    A trick, though of very little caliber, insider knowledge. There were not many people that could tolerate Aurelian’s presence for more than five minutes at a time. He had been in Camp Half-Blood year round for about 3 years now. Unclaimed still, just another in a long list of people who had discarded him upon first glance. But because of his snappish attitude, very little had actually been explained to him.

    From what he’d gathered, the fucking nonsense about the Greek gods? Real. Either that or these were some VERY dedicated LARPers that let him freeload.

    He was one of them, which is why when he’d ripped out that monster’s eyeballs and fed it to them, his temporary caretakers had, unfortunately, seen him doing that to a random goat and left his things out in the rain and immediately changed the locks.

    Nobody wanted an insane bloodthirsty pagan as a son anyways. Even if he was adopted with his full record of delinquency on display.

    The second thing he’d gathered? There had been a war. Multiple. But this had been a really bad war in Manhattan.

    The third, the bronze they used? Wasn’t just a strange aesthetic choice. Magical metal. Don’t ask too much about it.

    And that was it.

    Yep.

    That’s all he knew about demigod life. Greek gods? Knew none of them. Well, he knew the names, didn’t really know what any of them did though.

    “...” The blank stare of a cow, eyes slowly drifted from direct eye contact with Drea over to his spear, back to him. Amber nonsense shattered by dumbfounded confusion hastily sealed over by frustration. “... That’s not bronze.”

    An excellent observation. There was a crease in his forehead, twitches in his brow as he seemed to think.

    Arms crossed again. Thinking.

    And then a slow outreach to gently wrap a calloused hand around the grip, slow so that at any point he could be stopped if the forger didn't want him to touch his property, amber eyes flashing directly at Drea’s face as if he could read intent and thoughts if he stared hard enough. Waiting for the strike or the insult to land. On edge.

    His hand fully wrapped around the grip, and he lifted upwards, seeming to attempt to test the balance of the weapon before-

    “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MOTHERFUCKER-”

    He dropped the weapon as searing pain raced through his hand up his wrist and into his forearm.

    “FUCK. FUCK. I’m- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to drop- I can’t pick it back up I’m sorry-”

    He hissed out pain as his hand slowly unfurled and he gently stretched the joints out with a couple more hissed out curses.
    “What the fuck did you do to it”





























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    Larua Eldrige
    Location:     The forges
    Mentions: qunqun qunqun Xen6n Xen6n
    ​
    3333f914d95ed80bcfd0536366fc12e1d0c47c65.png

    Laura hand managed to make it to the forge unbothered by any of the half bloods, a true blessing, when she saw through the entrance someone that had earned her hate. Dreavyn, Laura hated him about as much as she hated her godly siblings if not more. She hated that to her he got pretty much everything and in a way was a better her. He had real magic of a witch child and the smith skills of any child of the forge, and what had he lost nothing that's what. Laura hated that dreavyn seemed to get everything and lose nothing when compared to well her. She hated his show off nature prancing about with his fancy spear claiming that he was just so powerful that the weapons that the rest of them used just couldn't hold his power. She despised how he could work with stygian iron without being hurt simply because of how he had been born. She hated that he had somehow gathered more of the rare adamantine than most half bloods would see in their life. Really if there was a golden child or one who acted like the golden child then in Laura's mind it was Dreavyn and Laura hated it.

    Laura almost paid no mind to the boy that was with the fucking show off, her mind consumed with hate for Dreavyn and how much he had when she had so little. Likely the guy was some petitioner here to beg to great and powerful dreavyn to make him some great weapon of legend. Laura didn't get the others much but she did hear the tail end of what Dreayvn said about mixing metals , of course his fucking solution was using more rare metals, he likely thought nothing of using adamantine. Laura didn't stand in the entrance and watch instead moving off to hide away and hopefully go somewhere dreavyn wouldn't see her. Still as she heard the other boy shout she couldn't help but look to them. He had helped the spear, of course dreavyn was enough of an asshole to forget not everyone could play with his special spear. To laura he likely got some form of amusement from the other's suffering, as laura herself would, as it just proved how special and unique he was.

    Laura had reached a maximum boil and now she couldn't stand to watch dreavyn parade his vast amount of gifts in front of another. She could solve this issue without using anything special. Dreavyn might have every gift under the sun but he seemed to forget simplicity. Laura approached the two much taller boys. " That was the stygian iron the fuck didn't warn you about, just like he won't tell you that you don't need any fancy metals, just like he didn't." She said glaring at dreavyn clearly sure he only did what he did to show off " Making you a blade or pair of blades that won't break is something anyone could do " she continue anger or rather hate in her voice clear and pure she had next to nothing positive about the other smith " He just wants to make you beg and to show off how much of a fucking golden child he is "
     
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    The young hellhound Sariel was amusingly protective toward her companion's fate as Celaena startled and lost her grip on the climbing wall. Bryce felt his muscles twitch as though his reflexes were goading him to break her fall. It made him grimace. It was stupid to react that way. The wall had a harness and she wasn't in any real danger, but, the daughter of Hades was the closest thing to a friend Bryce had and he reasoned that was why the instinct had kicked in.

    Satisfied that Sariel would make sure her mistress was okay, Bryce turned his attention to Celaena's question. 'It would be a lot better without all these campers here. I had the whole forest to myself last night.' He didn't say anything else. Sariel was acting oddly, drawn toward someone entering the camp. A guy with dark, handsome features and a melancholic expression.

    Cel asked who he was. Bryce shrugged, looking between the guy and the hellhound. He had a pretty good idea of who his godly parent could be, but he had no reason to gossip or even put out a theory. People could figure it out for themselves if they really wanted to.

    'I don't know, but I hope he's not my mom's kid. I can just about tolerate Dreavyn.' he spoke with a deadpan tone, but a tiny trace of a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. 'If you're curious, go ask him. You're better at it than me.'










    The young hellhound Sariel was amusingly protective toward her companion's fate as Celaena startled and lost her grip on the climbing wall. Bryce felt his muscles twitch as though his reflexes were goading him to break her fall. It made him grimace. It was stupid to react that way. The wall had a harness and she wasn't in any real danger, but, the daughter of Hades was the closest thing to a friend Bryce had and he reasoned that was why the instinct had kicked in.

    Satisfied that Sariel would make sure her mistress was okay, Bryce turned his attention to Celaena's question. 'It would be a lot better without all these campers here. I had the whole forest to myself last night.' He didn't say anything else. Sariel was acting oddly, drawn toward someone entering the camp. A guy with dark, handsome features and a melancholic expression.

    Cel asked who he was. Bryce shrugged, looking between the guy and the hellhound. He had a pretty good idea of who his godly parent could be, but he had no reason to gossip or even put out a theory. People could figure it out for themselves if they really wanted to.

    'I don't know, but I hope he's not my mom's kid. I can just about tolerate Dreavyn.' he spoke with a deadpan tone, but a tiny trace of a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. 'If you're curious, go ask him. You're better at it than me.'







    Son of Hecate



    Bryce.








    • filler tab!





    ♡coded by uxie♡
     



    dreavyn.





































    • mood



      Definitely Angry
















    Aurelian's uncertain gaze toward Dreavyn, coupled with the scrutiny he directed at his spear, Iulius, revealed a clear sense of hesitation. Dreavyn noticed the familiar response of uncertainty and caution, a common reaction to the presence of his spear. While he secretly enjoyed the fear it instilled, he was mindful not to foster arrogance, understanding that it could be a demigod's greatest downfall—a pitfall he was fortunate to avoid.

    Upon hearing Aurelian mention the spear's bronze material, Dreavyn furrowed his brow and tilted his head. The fact that Aurelian seemed unaware of Stygian Iron left Dreavyn puzzled—had no one informed him about the diverse esoteric metals? Moreover, the way Aurelian casually referred to Celestial Bronze as bronze made Dreavyn contemplate whether he was even aware of Celestial Bronze, the very metal he effortlessly shattered. The possibility did not sit right with Dreavyn.

    "No its not."


    Dreavyn considered revealing that it was Stygian Iron and Adamantine to Aurelian, but he chose to test Aurelian's knowledge to see if it matched his assumptions.

    As Aurelian extended his hand towards Iulius, Dreavyn remained still, devoid of any visible emotion. Instead, he observed keenly, questioning whether Aurelian was feigning ignorance or genuinely unaware. Given Aurelian's time in the camp, Dreavyn expected him to be familiar with the basics, he should be able to know the general stiff around here, it's like the ABC's to surviving in this place.

    As Aurelian tightly grasped the polearm of the spear, Dreavyn allowed him a moment to hold it. Predictably, the Stygian Iron's essence retaliated, searing his soul akin to an agonizing burn. Like anyone not born of Chthonic deities, Aurelian responded with a scream of pain and yelling curses, swiftly releasing the Stygian Iron weapon.

    Dreavyn would telekinetically bring the cold spear back to his hand, firmly gripping it.

    "No its okay, you dont need to apologize. I didnt do anything, it was the nature of the metals used to create the spear-"


    In that moment, Dreavyn observed an unexpected arrival behind them, as the girl asserted herself by responding matter-of-factly. It caught him off guard, considering he hardly knew her, not even her name. However, he recognized her evident magical prowess as the sole non-hecate spawn utilizing magic, which impressed him. Despite the apparent lack of rivalry, her harsh retort made it seem otherwise. But Dreavyn was not going sit back and hush.

    "Have we met? No forget that, what gave you the amazing thought to come at me with what, this? Did Hepheastus knocked his fucking hammer on your head while you were sleeping or you've CLEARLY FUCKING LOST IT!

    If Aurelian wanted your help, he would've came to you, but no, your so wrapped up in bringing other people down that you don't see yourself for the disgusting little shit you are. "


    Dreavyn was seeing red, he didn't take bullshit from people, much less people who's only purpose in interrupting HIS conversation was to try to belittle him. He's very much aware of her distasteful attitude towards people, even her siblings. He probably understands her situation and the many fuckery the camp does that might lead to this kind of attitude but never try to go after Drea. Most often times Bryce would be the one to keep him from rilling up, if not for his brother, he'd truly put many newcomers and Head Counselors in their place. And you genuinely don't want to see him like that, most can assure you that its worst than what Aurelian has done.

    "If you want to feel so right, let me explain cripple!"


    That was low, and Dreavyn knew it, but he was too hot in his gears to care.

    "Aurelian has yet to reach his twenties and the level of strength he protrays, enough to break Celestial Bronze, will only grow. The reason why i said to mix the two was the give him a hint to mix Imperial Gold and Celestial Bronze, the end result will create a combined metal that's more durable than the two and if he chooses to, he can get it enchanted. Not many people like magic, im catering to his preference."


    It was true, he has seen first hand the strength Aurelian displays and when he reaches in his twenties, he will get stronger. Anticipating further growth in his twenties, there's a considerable likelihood that Aurelian might eventually wield such force of will that he could break the enchantment when using the sword. His emotions are strong and that by itself carried power, force of will. That's literally the basis of learning Charmspeaking for skilled magic users.

    Magic alone is not absolute, Dreavyn was thinking practical and long term. He doesn't want Aurelian's angry ass to come at him again, complaining the sword broke a few years later.

    "Aurelian, she's a child of Hepheastus, you can ask her, she's genuinely better than me in blacksmithing, its in her blood. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna clean up."


    Dreavyn would turn around, ready to walk off and ignoring whatever else she said. While he was clearly pissed, he didn't ignore the superiority she possessed in blacksmithing and metalworking, he was truthfully telling Aurelian, 'Here, there's someone better for you'.

    He strongly dislikes confrontations, not out of fear for others' opinions but due to the potential consequences of his words and actions. Losing control of his emotions makes him vulnerable to taunts and manipulation, and he wants no part in that.

































    cry for love



    백현










    ♡coded by uxie♡
     





    Scene One.















    scroll

    Auguste



    The Prodigy




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    oh dear oh dear oh dear











    OUTFIT




    Basically Pajamas











    LOCATION




    Hi Callie











    MENTIONS




    Callie, Dante









    INTERACTS




    PixieDust PixieDust Zombie. Zombie.

















    Eat Your Young — Hozier.
































































    scroll






    Temporal Rebirth.




    Continual cycling, never ending, the same things rise and fall and repeat






























    SCENE ONE.

    Auguste looked at Callie, and then at the children that she was greeting. And then at Callie’s expression.

    The most terrifying thing in the world began to slowly occur:

    Auguste’s perpetually solemn and dour expression broke, his lips pulling and stretching into a twisted caricature of a smile.

    It looked mildly painful. And there were way too many teeth - why were his teeth pointy - and the looming specter of death appearance was not aiding in the comfort of a smile.

    He was nudged a little as she leaned a little back into him and the illusion immediately broke.

    Looming smudgy figure of death, a figure of constant sorrow, meet child of the underworld - a dead eyed Italian with a bad attitude.

    “...”

    He blinked at the very awkward silence that was overtaking this entire interaction. He then seemed to remember to be actually welcoming…

    … The smile was back. This was the exact opposite of welcoming.

    “Hi!”

    There was murder in icy eyes alongside the expression of deceitful sadistic glee. His voice did not lend itself well to joy either, sounding more… growling bark than soft purr.

    “Welcome to camp!”

    You are not welcome to camp, and in fact are probably about to die.

    “My name is Auguste.”

    … Okay that statement wasn’t nearly as threatening as the other one.

    Auguste was also rapidly deflating from the terrifying spectacle of ravenous hatred filled elation to melancholic stoicism.

    It fit him a lot better.

    A quiet rumble of a voice, once more soft spoken and painfully socially awkward. More mumbled than anything else as he shuffled his feet back and forth, refusing to make eye contact as black strands of two toned hair fell into his face.

    “... enchanté.”





























    ♡coded by uxie♡
     
    TW: There's a pretty graphic description of two children's deaths. ​





    SCENE ONE.















    scroll

    Aurelian



    The Chef




    ㅎㅎ















    MOOD




    RAGE











    OUTFIT




    Punk ass bitch











    LOCATION




    Forge -> Training











    MENTIONS




    Drea, Laura









    INTERACTS




    Xen6n Xen6n Karcen Karcen

















    ... And Justice For All — Metallica
































































    scroll






    The Tertiary Sin.




    Boiling deep within, a bubbling heat of wrath. Venom seeping through bladed lexicon






























    SCENE ONE.

    Aurelian was a lot of things in life, but he wasn’t fucking stupid, even as his jaw clenched and his knuckles slowly went white.

    He knew the trial by fire method of teaching, even if he wasn’t the biggest fan of it.

    Tick, tick.

    He also knew that his temper was treated as a ticking time bomb within camp, within his personal life. He was an explosive person, he knew this as well.

    Tick, tick.

    Eyes shifted from Drea to Laura. They were arguing.

    He was frustrated that he wasn’t strong enough to lift the fucking spear, to begin with, that that was a sword in the stone excalibur worthy to become king type of bullshit that he had been denied his entire fucking life.

    But that was more of a himself thing, rather than a Drea or Laura part.

    Tick, tick.

    But also, he was fucking annoyed as shit that Drea hadn’t warned him about that. How the fuck was he supposed to know that the iron was Stygian whatever the fuck that meant.

    Take in Drea. Take in Laura.

    Laura, 4’7, shrimpy, he could throw her it seemed. He was considering it currently. Throw her into the fire. See if she burnt as much as she seemed to like to criticize

    Drea. Tougher. Witchcraft - and seemed like he knew what he was doing (a flash of a boy being carried out of his foster home, bleeding from every orifice in his face danced behind Aurelian’s eyes, unwanted and unneeded). Spear.

    He had a dagger he’d stolen from a boy currently in his boot (his back was torn, his mouth foaming with blood, the boy was dead, his weapon feet away from an outstretched hand, flesh and blood dripped from the mouth of the manticore as Aurelian picked it up, hands shaking as he stared down his first monster), his wits… He was probably a better physical fighter than the other forger, but witchcraft no. You don’t fuck with witches.

    Tick, tick.

    No, the only person to be annoyed with in terms of Drea was himself. He loathed the small glimpse of his throat he’d given Drea. But the witch seemed very sure of his strength. Okay, then they both would circle each other as predators looking for the kill. This made sense to him.

    Her.

    Getting stronger people to do her dirty work?

    Too weak to start an all out fight herself. Not in body, but in psychological will to fucking tear the mage to pieces like she clearly wanted to do. So her goal was to turn him against his (very brief) mentor for her. A pawn in her games.

    Oh, she was the type of person that he loathed the most. Her. He was currently infuriated by her.

    He took a step towards her, lips twitching into a smile as he cracked his neck. This was going to feel so fucking good.

    “-Aurelian, she's a child of Hephaestus, you can ask her, she's genuinely better than me in blacksmithing, it's in her blood. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna clean up.”

    What.

    “What.”

    Eye contact with the albino broken, his head whipped around to see the retreating back of the son of Hecate.

    Oh.

    Rage boiled in his stomach. Since when had his parents ever given him anything? Since when did his life turn out in any way other than absolute shit praying to every god that he could imagine since he was a child that some person out there might accept him for who he was? One was apparently his parent.

    His other one had thrown him into a dumpster the minute he was born.

    No, their parents gave them nothing but disgust and hatred.

    “You focus too much on bloodlines like every single other person in this fucking camp.” He said, spitting at Drea’s feet as he roughly shouldered past him.

    He was angry now.

    He was going to fight someone again.





























    ♡coded by uxie♡
     
    Larua Eldrige
    Location:     The forges
    Mentions: qunqun qunqun Xen6n Xen6n
    ​
    3333f914d95ed80bcfd0536366fc12e1d0c47c65.png

    Laura despite what one might expect actully coukd endure insults well. It let her know she got under someone's skin and in that way despite being weak had power over the strong. She didn't really plan much and had gotten hurt because of her mouth before. If she ever thought ahead then she would be more careful with her insults and how she worded things. Really what she got out if this being called the better blacksmith was nice, and so was dreavyn leaving her with the other guy who looked about as angry as she got.

    The angry boy didn't seem to want to stick around and even ask her for a weapon which right now she would have made just to show she could. He just stopped off after the other half blood. Well things had worked ouef out as now Laura could work alone on her project. Really she had expected more shouting all directed at her but the other guy didn't even seem that intrested in her mostly dreavyn. Well dreavyn had pulled his prank so that might be more annoying than a loud cripple.

    " well that worked out better than expected " Laura said voicing her confusion as she went to get some metal to start making her door frame.
     
    CODE BY SEROBLISS
    Damien De Luca
    Son of Hades
    As Damien neared the camp's main point of entry, a strange feeling began to gnaw at him, reminiscent of being watched by someone from afar. Due to the number of people in the slowly moving crowd, he couldn't quite pinpoint the source of scrutiny. It specifically reminded him of being stared at by a spirit, but there was a subtle difference he couldn’t quite seem to place his finger on. He decided to shake off the feeling and keep moving, leaving the cold blue eyes that closely resembled his own undetected for the time being.

    By the gates, the first person to capture Damien’s attention, unsurprisingly, was Auguste Cortés Martin. The long-haired, imposing figure that eclipsed Damien's usual role as the tallest of the bunch was hard to miss. He couldn’t tell if it was his arrival that brought about the awkwardness he soon felt or if the campers were all simply on edge that morning, but his attention shifted to a pretty girl with golden, wavy hair that was standing by the towering demigod.

    He could’ve sworn he heard the girl mutter a name under her breath, but it was a name he didn't recognise, and soon enough, the slightly troubled expression on her face was replaced with an attempted polite smile. Although the blonde was offering him a greeting, she seemed to be avoiding Damien’s gaze as if she’d die if she looked directly at him. You’d think he was Medusa.

    "Damien De Luca," he responded, his voice managing to remain mostly expressionless despite the obvious tension in the air. He might’ve attributed Callie's hesitance to genuine shyness if it hadn’t been for the way the tallest of the group had started to look at him. "Hey," he responded to Auguste while nodding once to greet the two, subconsciously tightening his grip on the strap of his backpack as the awkwardness seemed to rise the longer the interaction went on.

    The pair of campers were saying seemingly welcoming things, yet somehow they both gave him the impression that they weren’t that fond of him in differing ways. Fortunately for Damien, making friends was low on his list of priorities. He decided there was no point in dwelling on it; the sooner he could get settled in and go back to keeping to himself, the better.

    “Uh, where do we go if we're–" he asked, his sentence trailing off just as his gaze landed properly on Argus for the first time. “..New?” He finished the question without changing his expression, not wanting to seem like he was gawking at the male with way too many eyes. The sight of Argus was surprising, but Damien knew exactly how being stared at and judged by others felt so he tried to be equally indifferent to everyone he came across.
     
    Last edited:











    Celaena Saria


    Daughter of Hades - Camper










    Mood:


    Curious, Intrigued, and Nostalgic







    Location:


    Camp Half-Blood: Climbing Wall







    Outfit:


    click me!








    Tags:


    Bryce PixieDust PixieDust Damien Zombie. Zombie.
    Callie
    Aguste qunqun qunqun













    A soft laugh escaped the ebony-haired girl. Her eyes glimmered with amusement as she gave a slight nod. "I totally get it. I am not a fan of all the people." She huffed. Her fingers carefully threaded through the fur of her best companion. Her gaze was drawn away from the new camper, meeting Bryce's eyes as she casually detached the equipment from her body. "I may decide to head to my cabin for a bit before Chiron decides we all have to meet." A grimace appeared across her elegant face, unable to prevent the eye roll as she said those words. She wasn't a fan of people in general - it was why Bryce and she got along so well. She much preferred being in the background.

    Sariel huffed as her mistress started talking to Bryce. She gave a soft whine of happiness as she felt those talented fingers give her scratches right behind her ear, right where she enjoyed it. The hellhound slowly stood up from Celaena's side, padding toward Callie and Aguste. She knew none of the campers would hurt her - knowing she was the companion to the daughter of one of the Big Three. The canine slowly approached the trio carefully, giving a soft bark to announce herself before she heard her name being called by her mistress, curious red orbs upon Damien.

    Celaena had begun to head towards her cabin when she realized Sariel wasn't with her. "Oh, for the love of ... SARIEL!" Her Australian-accented voice carried across the camp, clearly exasperated, as she strode towards her companion. The small daughter of Hades carefully approached Callie, Auguste, Damien, and the rest of the new campers. "I am so sorry, Callie. I don't know what her issue is today." She was honestly worried her companion would scare newcomers. Sariel usually didn't leave her side. "You annoying little ball of fur." She scolded gently, turning piercing mercury-dipped silver blue orbs to the new campers. Her gaze finally met a set of eyes so similar to her own, and she had to pause for a second. "I best be going." She murmured softly, trying to shake the sense of nostalgia and familiarity that had set upon her bones.











    ♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

     
    Last edited:
    Any further and Thalassa thought she wouldn't be able to keep walking. Her entire body seemed to be burning from exhaustion, and her eyes were fighting to stay open in the dark of night and the pouring rain. There seemed to be a refuge up ahead, beyond the trees: Specifically a distinctive pine tree. Just a little further...

    Snap! Her attention was drawn to a twig snapping nearby. She tensed, moving a hand toward the pendant she had been gifted by her mother. Something was following her: again.

    With barely a moment to spare a large cat-like creature emerged from it's cover. With all the mythology she'd read back home, Thalassa knew what this was...

    Wonderful, just what I needed!

    The manticore lunged, its tail thrashing amidst the downpour. Thalassa, wielding her seemingly ordinary silver-and-sapphire pendant, dodged with nimble agility. The rain, like always, seemed to quicken her every movement, though being a dancer also helped. With a focused thought, she transformed the pendant into the formidable Abyssal Trident, its sea-blue shaft glistening with raindrops.

    'Alright, I'm ready to play!', she yelled.

    As the manticore unleashed fiery breath, Thalassa, now armed with her trident, danced between rain-soaked flames. The razor-sharp prongs, adorned with coral-like engravings, struck with precision. As though the girl could anticipate every move.

    In the midst of the clash, Thalassa hurled her trident, the celestial bronze finding its mark in the manticore's flank and eliciting a furious roar from the monster who lunged once more at her, its claws connecting with her side. The Abyssal Trident, true to its nature, returned to her hand. Undeterred, she pressed on, engaging in a dance of water and weapon until, with a final, calculated thrust, Thalassa drove her transformed trident into the manticore's heart, securing victory in the rain-soaked struggle. As the battle concluded, she transformed the trident back into its pendant form, concealing its power until the next call to arms. In the midst of the adrenaline rush, Thalassa had hardly noticed the gash in her side. The last thing she remembered was looking up at the pine tree she had seen before.

    **

    Thalassa's morning the next day was not exactly what she'd expected. She had woken up in an infirmary to the sight of some guy with way too many eyes and had let out more than a few curses in her mother tongue. Then she had been told something about being a 'half-blood' by some guy around her own age and now, here she was in the middle of 'Camp Half-Blood' watching campers arrive and being told that there would be 'orientation' soon.

    She didn't have a clue what to make of it all, but she did have a horrible suspicion that she understood what a halfblood was. She didn't dare voice such a thought however.










    Any further and Thalassa thought she wouldn't be able to keep walking. Her entire body seemed to be burning from exhaustion, and her eyes were fighting to stay open in the dark of night and the pouring rain. There seemed to be a refuge up ahead, beyond the trees: Specifically a distinctive pine tree. Just a little further...

    Snap! Her attention was drawn to a twig snapping nearby. She tensed, moving a hand toward the pendant she had been gifted by her mother. Something was following her: again.

    With barely a moment to spare a large cat-like creature emerged from it's cover. With all the mythology she'd read back home, Thalassa knew what this was...

    Wonderful, just what I needed!

    The manticore lunged, its tail thrashing amidst the downpour. Thalassa, wielding her seemingly ordinary silver-and-sapphire pendant, dodged with nimble agility. The rain, like always, seemed to quicken her every movement, though being a dancer also helped. With a focused thought, she transformed the pendant into the formidable Abyssal Trident, its sea-blue shaft glistening with raindrops.

    'Alright, I'm ready to play!', she yelled.

    As the manticore unleashed fiery breath, Thalassa, now armed with her trident, danced between rain-soaked flames. The razor-sharp prongs, adorned with coral-like engravings, struck with precision. As though the girl could anticipate every move.

    In the midst of the clash, Thalassa hurled her trident, the celestial bronze finding its mark in the manticore's flank and eliciting a furious roar from the monster who lunged once more at her, its claws connecting with her side. The Abyssal Trident, true to its nature, returned to her hand. Undeterred, she pressed on, engaging in a dance of water and weapon until, with a final, calculated thrust, Thalassa drove her transformed trident into the manticore's heart, securing victory in the rain-soaked struggle. As the battle concluded, she transformed the trident back into its pendant form, concealing its power until the next call to arms. In the midst of the adrenaline rush, Thalassa had hardly noticed the gash in her side. The last thing she remembered was looking up at the pine tree she had seen before.

    **

    Thalassa's morning the next day was not exactly what she'd expected. She had woken up in an infirmary to the sight of some guy with way too many eyes and had let out more than a few curses in her mother tongue. Then she had been told something about being a 'half-blood' by some guy around her own age and now, here she was in the middle of 'Camp Half-Blood' watching campers arrive and being told that there would be 'orientation' soon.

    She didn't have a clue what to make of it all, but she did have a horrible suspicion that she understood what a halfblood was. She didn't dare voice such a thought however.







    Daughter of Poseidon



    Thàlassa.








    • filler tab!





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