[Percy Jackson]- The Fall of Olympus (RP)

@Renn Skye


As Niobe turned her back, Dinae's shine started to dim. Normally during this time of day she would be all a grow, bright as the sun. However now she just couldn't bring herself to being cheerful. She stared blankly at the floor, shivering starting to fade as she calmed completely down. The numbness she felt was overwhelming and again she couldn't understand why. She tried to focus on the feeling, tried to remember but the moment she tried her head spiked with pain and she was forced to stop. Closing her eyes, she pressed both her hands tightly on her head and curled downward into a seated ball. These headaches needed to just... stop. Taking a breath she cleared her mind and straitened once more, just as her friend turned around.


"Thanks." Only her smile was bright with her false happiness. She took the clothes offered to her and then stood from the bed. At first she was still a little wobbly from this morning's waking adventure, but at least she didn't fall. She slipped out of the silky night dress she could only guess was also from Niobe then proceeded to pull up the jeans. They clasped easy enough and fit, but it was obvious she didn't belong in them; her bottom couldn't quite fill them properly. She inhaled softly then slipped the next article of clothing over her head, the tee shirt. Same as the pants, the shirt fit her just fine, but it was very obvious that it was not hers. It was loose over her chest, and slightly baggy over her stomach. Not bad, but not perfect.


Fully dressed Dinae moved over to stand beside her friend and gazed at her reflection. The image before was a dull, broken mess. She moved her hands to her cheeks, pushing them up and down. Then her fingers gently brushed over the sleep beneath her eyes. Gods she looked awful... or rather Titans she looked awful. Whatever. Giving up she ran her fingers through her hair and started to pull it up into a rather messy pony tail. Grabbing whatever she could find on the vanity, she tied her hair up then moved back toward the bed searching the floor. Now she needed shoes.


"Niobe... Do you have any shoes I can borrow?" As the blonde searched around the floor, she constantly had to pull her jeans up. Okay, maybe they didn't fit as greatly as originally planned, but at least they weren't too small.
 
(Ahh that was my fault.He isn't omnipotent at all. I'ts like this because he is aphrodite's son he does has some power dealing with love,and one of them is too know where the person you are in a relationship is at all time's. SO he doesn't know that she's alive per say,but he knows that she's close enough to the point that she can't be dead in the underworld. Though I suppose that's OP
 
@TheKaosophile


Kira looked at Romy and Franco for a moment, smiling as he went to grab his favorite coat. It was blood red, with a nice black bow with its tails falling at the back of the wearer's legs. And on the right, was a katana given to his father, Hades. Kira could cause much chaos with it, despite its distinctive appearance. Mugetsu-Ryu sports a western-looking red and black handguard and has the traditional yellow and red hilt-wrapping flanked by golden-colored plates on the hilt, which ends in a very ornate, carved pommel, and carried in a lacquered, red sheath. "Of course. Follow me and stay close!" Kira said, following suit with Romy and Franco, even making his way in front. He preferred to be in front whenever in a group, mostly because he can sniff out an ambush and can work best at the front lines.


He bent down on one knee, smelling the ground. "This way, you guys." He said loud enough for Romy and Franco, but not too loud as he pointed to the left. Well... I was a bit worried, being a son of Hades that someone might not be comfortable with me at Camp. But I guess I had nothing to worry about at all. So why don't you tell me about yourselves? What have your lives been like?" Kira asked as he turned around, giving Romy and Franco his undivided attention.
 
Grace perhaps sensed him first before she heard his voice. His footsteps were silent, but it was the stillness in the air that alerted her. He was odd for a child of Hades, she had never before heard of one that wielded decay as a talent; however, per-say, she was not surprised it was perfectly explainable to his upbringing.


She met the reserved apathy he carried with him in his eyes. Grace smiled sadly. Now was not the time to feel sympathetic to his state of discontent, but perhaps to address it.


"The pleasure is mine. You were admired for your prowess on the battlefield." Grace skipped to business, she knew that Wesley nor herself cared for the 'cat and mouse' of small talk. "I've come to request your services once more. Think of it as...a business proposal that may be of personal interest. May we speak inside?" She gave a short glance to either side to signify her distrust of their surroundings. In Olympus, one must be careful who and where they speak around, this is especially true in the New Kingdom of the Titans with shadier souls lurking about.
 
By this time Alek eaten it about a handful of plums. And has since found a fallen branch and started to pick apart it's leaves. He might have fallen asleep, under the shade of the trees, but he couldn't stand the thought of having to deal with the visions his sleep has been bringing him as of late.


Finding something to occupy his time in the day-to-day of his life living on Mount Utopia proved to be his biggest challenge. In ways he longed for the days where the safety outside the Mountain or his father's deep sea kingdom meant enemies and uncertainty behind every corner. Many fights and challenges, secret lairs of forgotten monsters, untouched sites away from civilization where pockets of magic formed. After the war there was nothing left. Places he once thought to perhaps travel to would be unkept, falling apart at the seams. That was one thing the humans were good for--as many times as they destroyed things, sacred, ancient--they knew how to rebuild them and maintain them. But there was no danger left in the world for him. No adventure. Now that there was a certain truce between the Titan-aligned demigods, it gave him no reason to raise his sword. How much he longed to let himself loose. Destruction was in his nature. He longed to feel flesh-and-bone through his blade, even if the flesh was purple or green or orange or slimey or scaled. He wanted opponents who could think for themselves. He wanted to feel power in his hands.


He felt wind tug through his hair, whistling slightly in the air, the leaves rattling in the trees, waves lapping at the sides of the isle. Aleksandr rose to his feet. He couldn't raise suspicion. Last thing he wanted was for his sacred place to be ripped down, and black obsidian built in its place to honor his father or some other minor god of the waters.


He gritted his teeth. And with some effort the air died and within another few minutes the water was calm. Alek went back to the water, he couldn't spend the rest of his life on this tiny island hiding from everyone and everything. He needed to leave the Mountain.
 
@Angel Evans


His remaining eyebrow - the left, still sharply carved with the upturned end common to all his father's children - raised at that, a dull reminder of an old habit not yet lost rather than his old classic expression. His good eye was still focused steadily over the love child, his poorer one as fixed as it could manage in it's glazed quasi-unseeing state.


"Somehow I doubt that," he said, flat and colder than he had ever spoken in years past. "And I don't particularly appreciate the sympathy, well intentioned though it might be. We all lost something in the war - I don't need to be looked at differently than anyone else, plenty of others are living without loved ones. I'm sure some of them want comfort - maybe you could give it to them, but it won't work here. I've made my peace by giving up any hope for it, you don't need to worry about me." 
@Misunderstood Hero


Settled comfortably in front of the vanity Niobe carefully worked through the tangles in her hair, smoothing the raven locks into gentle waves as she pulled the steel toothed brush through her hair with a mindlessly methodical rhythm. She allowed- no, prompted a smile to rise to her lips as Dinae's reflection joined her own. She looked nothing like the radiant girl she had been before Niobe brought her to this place, before she found her bleeding on the battlefield in the aftermath of the war, her breathing shallow and skin pale, barely alive but always always worth saving. But she would be that again, with time and careful tending Niobe had no doubt that she would be able to bring Dinae back to her former glory. It was just… taking a while.


"What, you don't want to go around barefoot?" She questioned, the tone laughing, if forcedly so. She turned about to look over her friend, appraising of the fit of her clothes over her friend's form. They were of a similar size but the lack of a similar shape certainly took it's toll - the pants were barely filled out and that shirt could not be so loose on her, could it? Still, it was better than nothing, and normally Dinae would make them look charmingly ill-fit, though now she just seemed misplaced (an effect her expression and constant confusion did nothing to remedy). Sandals would suit the outfit well, if Dinae's own shoes hadn't returned from being cleaned - Niobe hadn't checked to see if they were at all returned to her yet, they might well be waiting somewhere in the room.


"Shoes are in the cubbies on the right wall of the closet - yours might be around here somewhere, too. Check for a golden bag. They were…" covered in blood and mud, death and ash "...dirty so I sent them off for cleaning." She shrugged, reaching for her makeup bag and turning about on her seat so that she might face Dinae fully, fingers finding a stick of lip colour and applying it mirror-less with a certainty borne of long practise, her hands finding the lines of her lips perfectly without the aid of sight. "You have to let me work your face and hair before we go out, though - if you go out without taking care of yourself you'll feel un-taken care of. And until you're back on your feet we need to make sure you feel as taken care of as possible. At least until you start brightening on your own. At least let me clean you up a little, if you don't want to do it yourself." 
@MagicPocket


"A personal interest?" he questioned, a slight peak of curiosity flashed for a moment in Wesley's steely eyes as he looked over Grace once more. One black brow rose slightly, taking on an elegant curve while the rest of his features remained as passive as if they were carved in a permanent expression of blankness.


He moved past her in a direct line, brushing past her with no care for the fact that he might easily have avoided entering her personal space by altering his route only slightly - she had decided to stand on his doorstep, it was her own fault if she was at all made uncomfortable by his closeness. It would likely be the case - it was rarely otherwise, after all. Beyond the unsettling aura that all children of Hades seemed to wear about them Wesley's own particular disturbances rarely failed to affect those around him. 'Fear scent' was the best way he could describe it, if he were asked to do so - a natural dispersion of pheromones released to rise fear in those who were so exposed was constantly about him, an unasked for and unwanted side effect of his parentage he literally spread a creeping sense of dread about him wheresoever he went. Of course, in time people could become used to this effect of his - exposure to his natural musk of terror lessened the effect over time, and if anyone was willing to spend extended periods of time in his presence (unlikely, yes, but not wholly impossible) they would surely become immune to his rather… intimidating presence.


The hand still entrenched in his pocket withdrew now, bringing with it a long, bone white key, it's handle gilded with silver, a dark leather strap hooked from the head and looped about Wesley's narrow wrist. The silver and white shone in sharp contrast with the black of his glove as he uncovered the keyhole in his door and inserted the key, turning it around fully twice before pushing the door inward and removing the key again. The door, a smooth slate of black wood, slid open soundlessly in a slow arc and he moved inward over the threshold without looking back at his guest. He offered her no words of greeting, but instead moved into the sitting room, settling himself in a large black leather armchair. His right leg crossed over his left at the knee he sat up straight, his back stiffly aligned, shoulders flat, his elbows resting on either armrest. He removed his gloves with slow purpose, settling them on the stand next to the seat. With the same slow deliberation he brought his fingers together, steepling the long white digits and settling his lips to touch just at the tips of his forefingers, his dark eyes focused on the entrance to the sitting room where he assumed Grace would follow.


"And what would you know of my personal interests?" He asked finally, all previous apathy removed to be replaced with the low velvet-sheathed knife of threat.
 
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Grace heart quickened in pace as the man strode past her, unphased by the closeness, but rather could not help herself from the cold unsettling feeling dropping to the pit of her stomach. Uncomfortable, perhaps, but she was used to being around unsettling things of her day-to-day life, dark arts of necromancy and alchemy. Doubled with her experiences with the Titans with whom she has spent many hours in their company; knowing that at any moment,especially during her introductory phases, that the wrong word, an insensitive tone of voice, the Titans could smite her where she stood. Forgive if she is not as vulnerable as an average demigod to the "unaverage" son of Hades.


Wesley swept inside with such ease in his long step. Grace took a moment, giving a side-ways glance over her shoulder before preceding into his home. She closed the door behind her silently, taking her time to soundlessly follow him through the caliginous dwelling, the air stale and dead. This is were she could imagine a man such as Wesley to make himself comfortable.


She smiled bemused while her eyes remaining expressionless, watching the man seated a large inviting armchair, perform the meticulous task of removing his gloves, either for the sake of the show or for his own freedom from constraint. Grace silently declined the invitation for seating if there was one, alternatively she allowed her fascination to take her around the room, occupying her eyes while she spoke.


"Opportunity perhaps," Grace spoke softly but with a confidence that echoed around the room in the chillingly silent room. She pursed her pale lips, even on her best days her complexion never reflected anything much darker than alabaster. "I could not care to more deeply elaborate. Because we are not closely affiliated and I have no such concern in your internal affairs.


"Likewise, I bear you opportunity, as I can assume from past experiences and histories that the children of Hades are...but forgiving creatures," her dark eyes slid across the room, their violet origins shadowed without light to caress the color from its depths. She scoffed slightly in restrained amusement, the corners of her mouth suggesting a smile.


Graced clasped her hands behind her back underneath her cloak, the fabric rippling behind her with each step as she continued roving the room. She was entering more serious waters, her tone growing grave and matter-of-factual. "I have come to the knowledge that there are god-aligned demigods conspiring in the ruins of the ravished Camp Half-Blood. When brought to our Lords they dismissed the Rebel activity. Planned to discuss a set of actions on a later date. Not interested much at the idea." She raised a single finger and twitched aside a heavy cloth curtain a fraction of an inch, peering outside. "But what is a day...a month...a year...to a being whose life is eternal."


She turned and met Wesley's eyes once more. Grace drifting into an identical armchair. "We might have imprisoned the Gods," she said with deliberation, "But hope has a funny way of escaping even the toughest of bonds. Hope is dangerous. Sooner or later they will find a way."


Grace leaned forward in her seat, her eyes were intense. Her lips set into a firm line. "I propose we take care of our little problem before they hurt themselves even worse and take care of them once and for all." She left her words hanging in the empty air.
 
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@Renn Skye


Felix smiled at the slight brush of his beau's lips. He sighed when Josh left his side and looked to the others as they walked in. He caught what Josh had said and nodded "I'd love to." he said and walked into the living area. He knew that his beau was always quiet and disinterested. "I trust you completely Josh, I don't even know what my sister wants." he said and looked at Josh and gave him his normal reassuring smile.


That smile fell when he caught the irritated look on his face. It hurt Felix that Josh thought he couldn't trust him. He spoke softly "I'd trust you with my life." he said and looked up at Josh "You can make yourself at home. Whatever they have to say to me, they can say to you too." he said with finality.


He turned to J.R and Grace "What is it that you two need?" he asked and crossed his arms. "Potions, business?" he said and rose his brow.
 
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"Uh, yeah," J.R. said, "I've been having trouble slee--"


"--Not important at all." Grace interrupted. "I sent myself here for a reason. I at least plan to fulfill that part even if my request for a private audience is denied."


"Well--" J.R. began but was cut off by his mouth turning into a zipper.


"Oh yeah," Grace said, as if adding an after-thought. "I can do magic. Fancy that. Anyhow I'd like to inform you all about the recent status change in our "peace-time festivities". The Rebellion is growing and at the moment they are rebuilding Camp Half-Blood." Grace went through the story, relaying what the Titans told her and their lack of affirmative action.


"This information stays within this room, do you understand? Otherwise you have Grace to deal with. And you don't want to get on our bad side," Grace finished. Her time grew serious, "It's time to do something before these god-worshiper become too much of a nuisance."


J.R.'s mouth unzipped.
 
@Renn Skye


Dinae glanced over her shoulder to her friend and smiled almost bitter sweetly. She realized there was a joke spoken but she just didn't have the energy to give more than that. She couldn't even fake a laugh. However, with this new information regarding the shoes, Dinae continued her search with new determination. She walked carefully to the cubbies Niobe spoke of then squatted down to search them. Of course by squatting the back of her pants started to ride down, and now she was showing more body than originally planned. With a sigh she moved from squatting to her knees, then rose up to pull her jeans up before kneeling in front of the cubbies again. That was far more work than she originally planned. She dug through the various shoes until one of the cubbies relieved a gold bag. Finally, something that really was her own.


Opening the bag, Dinae pulled out a warn pair of sneakers. Looking them over she noticed small holes here and there, but other than that they looked brand new. A wave of disappointment came over the young daughter of Apollo. She was hoping that by holding, or even seeing something that belonged to her that she would remember the events leading up to staying here. But as she held those shoes in her hand she realized just how silly that hope seemed. As she rolled back onto her bottom, she had a new hope. With her feet before her she slipped on the shoes with ease and, unfortunately, they fit her perfectly proving that these were, in fact, her shoes. Great. So much for her new hope that they were Niobe's. All this failing optimism was really wearing her down.


Turning her attention away from her failure to recall anything, Dinae crossed her feet at the ankles and hunched over. Her fingers traced over the shoe's design on the side and she listened carefully to her friend. From closed lips she hummed her opposition. She didn't really feel like dolling herself up. But... she new the other girl was right. How would she ever feel better if she didn't make herself so? She raised a hand to her temple then slipped it through her roughly pulled back hair. The migraine she had was still drumming away behind her skull. Alright, she decided, looks before healing.


"Will you brush my hair for me?" Her voice croaked softly, like she was holding back tears. She blinked quickly and straightened up. Perhaps having her hopes shattered by a pair of shoes was effecting her more than she thought. Quickly she untangled her legs and spun around, still seated, so that she was propped up by her hip and thigh rather than her bottom. She cleared her throat before speaking again."I don't wanna do any make up... but you can help me with my hair, right?" Resting her hands on the floor, she pushed her self up a bit and tried a smile. It felt out of place on her face.
 
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@MagicPocket , @Nico


A light smile played at the edges of Josh's lips and he nodded at Felix's words, his look softening slightly from it's usual harsh mask as he found himself a seat, settling himself in comfortably as he turned his attention to the copy of Grace. His expression remained impassive as J.R. attempted to babble his way through the conversation, no spark of amusement reached his features as the zipper cut neatly across the boy's throat. The only change in his expression came when Grace mentioned the rebellion still trying to hold a living in Camp Halfblood. His eyes lit then, the cold fires of hatred leaping to life within them, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair he was in until their knuckles bleached white, his lip curling into a twisted, snarling sort of sneer at the idea of taking the remnants of the camp into his own hands.


True, his hatred was more reserved for his father then for any of the other campers, but over time it had grown expansive, and he found himself too generous to leave a single camper out of his loathing. The God's had sat idly by while his mother ran herself into the ground attempting to support an unplanned for child, while the constant upheaval of their lives pushed her into a slump of misery that she no longer had the will to dig herself out of. Any who stood by their laughable stand ins for ideals and justice deserved a heavy helping of his hate - and he was more than happy to help dole it out.


"And where would you have us start?" He questioned, despite the fact that she had clearly come here for Felix's opinion, and not his own. He could not help but lend his voice to this cause - there was a reason he was so highly rewarded in title and position come the end of the war. While he might have possessed the hands of a healer and have therefore been left out of the fighting there was not a demigod on the side of the God's who passed through his healing tend unscathed, and the ruthlessness of his measures and pitiless treatment of those who fell into his hands had earned him some grudging respect, while his unwavering dedication had gained him position in this new world. He would not be one to flinch back from the idea of finishing what they had started.


"If I might - may I suggest we start by hitting their supplies first?" He looked practically starved as the vague outlines of their demise filled him, and his voice quickened with an intense and demented passion for their destruction, "Poison the lake, knock out their water supplies - anyplace they might hope to find food either destroy it or ensure that rot sets in so they have the option to risk making themselves ill or starving. Flood the forests with monsters, exhaust them utterly - if we can throw something amongst them to make them rip themselves apart. Bleed them out emotionally until they have nothing left, until there's nothing for them but to give up and then line them up and slaughter them as tribute to the new world." He paused, then, tapping one slender finger to his lips in thought, "No… that would be too good for them, wouldn't it? Perhaps we should tear them apart, piece by piece, one after the other while the rest watch to remind them exactly why they should never have opposed us. Is that close to what you were suggesting? Because I'm all for it if it is." 
@Misunderstood Hero


Niobe turned around to face Dinae and couldn't help but let out a sigh. Her friend looked… she looked like a stranger, if Niobe was being perfectly honest. She was dimmer than she had been before - of course some of that probably had to do with the fact that Helios now toted the sun around the sky instead of her father, but it was more than that. Not only had her magically gifted brightness dimmed to a low simmer, but the core brightness that had always been her seemed now to be gone. The Dinae she had once known had never looked so utterly despondent, so broken, so… so dull.


A tired sort of smile flitted over Niobe's features, echoing the clearly forced one on her friend's features as she moved over next to her, crouching down so that she might reach out and push back one escaped strand to settle it beyond the Apollo-get's ear. Her eyes softened again, turning down in the corners as a wave of regret for what had been lost in Dinae covered her, though she quickly pushed it off. She'd be that again, and this… was at least somewhat of a step forward.


"Of course I'll brush your hair," she agreed, standing up again and moving around the other girl's form until she could settle behind her, her legs tucked up under her in a kneeling position - one someone of a cruder tongue might remark she seemed quite comfortable in. Her hands came up to pull the band from her friend's hair to release the locks, and she moved to run her fingers through it once more before taking up the brush she had been using on her own scalp and starting to run it through the spun gold that adorned her friend's head. With the proper treatment it'd be shining like anything, and hopefully that'd help Dinae to regain some of her inner shine as well.
 
Romy was glad for the distraction; she had been thinking about how little of a chance the campers had, "Well, I was born in Florida, not sure where exactly, my father moved around a lot... I guess now I know why... Anyway, I lived with my dad for a while, we didn't have much, but we had each other, and we made do, my dad died when I was twelve, and my mom visited me to tell me to go to Camp, no explanation, no telling me who she was, but she claimed me the moment I got there and Chiron explained the rest. My favorite color is razzmatazz, I prefer girls and my favorite food is pepperoni and ham pizza... I'm babbling aren't I?" she looked at Franco for help, he shrugged, his wide, muscular shoulders almost bursting out of his too-small orange Camp Half-blood T-shirt. He blinked, his eyes turning from color to color, "Don't like to talk about it" he muttered, his voice still powerful despite his mouth moving as little as possible, "Let's move" he said, making the corresponding military hand signal with one hand, pulling his prisms from his pocket with the other.
 
@MagicPocket


"I see your point," Wesley intoned after a long pause, his eyes following her movement about the room until she finally settled herself in a chair. For his part he remained motionless, uninhibited by the constant need to move that struck the majority of Demigods. His ADHD displayed itself in… interesting ways, and he was content to keep himself controlled and confined within his own form without the need for fidgeting or incessant movement. In fact he often found that such things irritated him to no end - it was much easier to seek out peace of mind when the body was at full rest.


"That being said," he continued, circulating his focus back to the point at hand, "I imagine you are approaching me in the privacy of my own home less out of respect for my tendency to avoid others and more out of an interest in secrecy, which leads me to believe that your desires when it comes to our more rebellious brethren is somewhat less than supported by our patrons. In which case I must admit that I am loathe to displease them."


He shrugged slightly then, leaning back more in his chair and looking at her through narrowed eyelids, his expression as impassive as always. He paused to look around himself at the lavish decorations his position and parentage had gained him - the room was decorated in whites and silvers, the only darkness brought to it by the colour of the seats and a long dark coffee table placed in the centre of the seating area. Generally he kept his curtains drawn when he was home - there was something irresistibly intriguing about the world and he appreciated it's light spilling into the darkness of his home. Perhaps some repressed longing for a world he did not quite fit in to, thanks to the blood that flowed so chillingly through his veins. It had not behoved him to open them now, though, when he had been leading Grace in and he kept them closed constantly when he was out, and the effect lent the room a chilled, clinical sort of feeling. Still, it was home and he was comfortable here, if not precisely happy. He was not sure if he'd ever encountered such a feeling, and as such comfort was the epitome of what he sought.


"This is my home now, and I'm pleased to have it. It is so helpfully provided by our Titan overlords and I, like every other good citizen of New Utopia, am overwhelmingly grateful for their generosity," he said, a sort of biting irony underlacing his words. "I am comfortable here - much more so then I have been in some time - and it is in their trust and by following their law that I maintain that comfort. Comfort and stability and security above all things - and I have all three here and now. In the aftermath of the war I doubt the other side was left with much of anything - in time it's more than likely that they'll destroy themselves. While I understand how it might be useful to kill the pup before it grows into a hound if our lords and master the Titans see fit to leave them living until they crush themselves or die off in some equally pitiable attempt at resistance I see no reason to interfere with their plans. As I said I am content here - I have no reason to endanger myself or my position for your plan and until such a point as I have such a personal investment I will make no move to support it. I will not, however, reveal you. I understand your motives and am not against the idea of you succeeding and as such I will not directly hinder you. Nor will I directly aid you so long as it is in any way a danger to my current situation."


He paused, fixing his stare on her, cold and implacable as always.


"Was that all you troubled me for? Or was there some further irritation you cared to burden me with?"
 
"Well, I was born in Florida, not sure where exactly, my father moved around a lot... I guess now I know why... Anyway, I lived with my dad for a while, we didn't have much, but we had each other, and we made do, my dad died when I was twelve, and my mom visited me to tell me to go to Camp, no explanation, no telling me who she was, but she claimed me the moment I got there and Chiron explained the rest. My favorite color is razzmatazz, I prefer girls and my favorite food is pepperoni and ham pizza... I'm babbling aren't I?" Kira was patiently listening to Romy, giving her his attention. Upon her thinking that she was babbling, he said giving her a look of interest. "In fact, I learned more about you than I thought I could in less than a hour. You were rather straightforward, but detailed in a way!" Kira assessed.


When Franco made the signal to continue moving, he turned around, continuing to proceed before an enticing smell assailed he nostrils. Kira made a smile that seemed like something alluring was practically calling. "It smells like chicken, seasoned with hickory smoke barbecue sauce, roast turkey maybe as well. Fresh stew with chicken broth and some fresh from the oven whole wheat bread coming from the west! Follow me!" Kira announced, but no too loudly to attraction as he got on all fours heading east, seeing some houses.
 
Franco nodded, dropping low and closing his eyes for a moment in concentration, he began to fade out of sight, if you weren't looking directly at him, he would be hard to find, Romy tapped her daisy chain on her wrist, allowing it to grow roots all over her body, face and all, when the process was complete, she looked like a person-shaped tree with baby blue eyes "Your turn," she said, voice muffled by the roots over her mouth, then began swinging up branches on the nearest tree her light body barely making a sound. Franco had gone ahead... Probably... It was hard to tell. "Outside's clear," his whisper came from somewhere nearby, "I'll take the back, Romy's lookout, take front" he ordered, his grandfather's training kicking in, Franco's voice taking a low, flat, authoritative tone. He vanished into the shrubbery again, a few seconds later, a leaf lifted off the ground by the back corner of the house, shook for a moment, then dropped to the ground.


Romy sat in the top of the tree, feet dangling eyes trained on the faint blur that was Franco That is so cool, I wish I could do that, then I could sneak into the girl's locker room and- oh, wait She stifled a giggle A giggle? Dear gods, I'm turning into my mother...
 
Kira turned around and noticed what Romy and Franco did as precautionary measures. The outside was clear as Franco had mentioned, but Kira would have known that ahead of time due to his heightened of smell. He ran past the tree Romy and stopped at one a few steps away from it. "Hey Romy. I'll jump in ask for spare provisions, basically anything they can spare. And we can stop at the supermarket afterwards. Does that sound good?" Kira turned, asking Romy. He didn't want to just rush in, and breaking down people's doors. He knew he had to deal with this as nicely as possible.
 
"Let's try scoping it out first," came the reply from the tree, "We don't know who- or what lives here"


Franco looked in the back windows, seeing nothing of interest, moving from window to window, confused each time when he found no signs of life aside from the tantalizing smells, What in Hades? Franco thought, wrapping back around to the front, dropping his cloaking with a small sigh of relief, he walked up to the child of Hades, "Empty, no one." he said simply, still baffled.


Romy dropped off the tree, hopping from branch to branch, finally landing with a soft rustle. Her body looked like her own again, and she said to the boys, "So, Hansel, what do you want to do? I'm soooo hungry, and this house smells soooo good."
 
"What in the world could've happened? I burned that wolves' den to cinders!" Kira said, completely baffled as well. How could the houses be empty? Could some lucky wolf has survived by chance? Kira couldn't contemplate it at all. "Well there's the supermarket! But I can't believe those nice people are gone!"
 
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Brianne13
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