❛ Canoe Lake

@[G] Margo Laurent Aurora felt a sting of fright as the girl stepped closer, but she didn't refuse the help. Maybe it was better to just let things move for now. Who knew what this girl would be capable of. After all she had seen, Aurora wouldn't take any chances.

"Y-yeah... I... I though I was alone here," she mumbled, staring down at her hands. "Guess I didn't really look good enough around first, now did I?" She glanced back up, trying her best at a friendly smile. "Sorry ye had to hear that. A-and about soaking yer sweater."

The question came as a slight surprise, but mostly because of how late it had come. Two weeks and this was the first time anyone in this country had asked her about the accent. "Mh, Scottish, yeah. H-how come? Ye know anyone from there? Is there any other Scotts here?"

"Not really frightened, as much as alert. Something was chasing me, but I lost it. Whoever it was. I think I was more scared when I burst into Stephen's cabin. But... Uhm... He proved to not be so bad." Aurora shrugged her shoulders lightly before sighing, but the following words from the other girl made her glance up in confusion. "My identity? I'm pretty bloody sure I'm still Aurora," she scoffed, not understanding what the other girl was talking about.

@[R] Aurora Blair Everything had happened so quickly that even Margo couldn't aide to stop gravity from pulling the girl into the lake. By the time the girl surfaced, Margo could only help by trying to pull her back onto the pier. She breathed a big sigh of relief knowing she was alright.

"A tiny slip you had," the petite girl sat adjacent of her and consoled her by taking off her cardigan around her waist and placing it over the other's shoulders.

Observing the other's expression and words from habit, Margo had a feeling what could possibly be troubling her. With the handful of newcomers attending the Camp each summer, it'd be a lie to say their lives don't change when it affects everything they've come to known. Margo once felt the same way she did, they've gone through the phase and back, it was accepting the truth of their identities and there was nothing that can be done about it.

"Everything alright? You look quite shaken up there." Helping dry the other, she simply replies, "I did hear." Then her eyes go round, "was it not meant to be heard? Oh dear, my curiosity will be the end me." She ends up mumbling incoherent words about herself being the nosy person she were and curses that she should stop meddling in other's situations.

Before she can get too carried away with talking to herself, she softly asks the other, "your accent, it's Scottish, is it not?" She's suddenly amused as she goes on to talk about the delectable similarity that the girl must also be from another country like herself. But before she can get too overly excited, Margo calms.

Clearing , she asks of the other's situation, "you must have been frightened when you came to the Camp. Did you know of your identity?"

@[G] Margo Laurent Aurora didn't know how she would ever be able to process everything that had happened that day. It just made no sense what so ever. It wasn't that she didn't want to believe it, she really did. It would explain so much of what she didn't understand in her life. But at the same time it would just raise too many questions. No, being crazy just made more sense.

But suddenly there was a sound behind her, not loud or alarming, but sudden. Aurora's reflexes kicked in and she pushed herself up, spinning around in the process to catch whoever had snuck up on her, but the sudden movement had sent her reeling back on the pier. Her foot slipped off wet wood and before she could think a second though she was falling. She hardly had time to raise for voice in a scream of surprise before the cold water came up to meet her with it's engulfing embrace.

The young Scott resurfaced with a loud gasp, staring up at the girl on the pier with wide eyes.
"W-wha... What happened?" she blurted out, hurrying to scramble back up onto the pier again, her clothes soaked and sticking to her skin. "Oh, bloody..." Aurora huffed and stared down at the camp shirt, shaking her head. "I need to get some new clothes...."

Her attention turned back to the girl in front of her again, slowly turning her eyes up at her with a guilty expression. "S-sorry. I..." She stared from the offered hand and back up at the girl's face before gently reaching out, shaking her hand. "A-aurora... I... Y-ye didn't hear everything I said, did ye?"

@[R] Aurora Blair The lake reminded her of her childhood home back in Annecy where the emerald water glistened against the hot sun and the softest of warm wind gave comfort as they brush against your skin. Margo has longed for the feeling of when she was a child again. Golden sand beneath her feet and the image of her smiling mother chasing after her as she headed for the body of water. New York was much too big for an ordinary girl like her; she disliked the gray buildings and bustling traffics, so being here at the Camp was considered a safe haven.

She nestled under a giant oak which sits a few distance from the lake, but the stunning view always drew her in as she fills of nostalgia and belonging. Her guitar sits on her lap while her fingers gently pluck at the melodious strings. A gentle smile greeting her lips as she begins to strum a childhood song, one her father used to sing her to sleep.

From the corner of her eyes, she catches image of a stranger at the pier. Margo is surprised at first, but then a soft, blurry image passes through her mind and all she can smell is the fragrance of sweet cinnamon. She silently observes the girl in the distance for a while, but there's a feeling playing with her guts and draws her to approach the wanderer. She walked quietly behind her so as not to startle her and notices the girl's distressed state while picking out the faint mumbled words she says to herself.

Margo had always been the kind to approach every situation with a bright smile. She was never cautious with strangers nor did she ever draw a line at strangers. Because she was a curious lass, she immediately intervenes the girl's thought.

"Nobody's insane here at Camp Half-blood," she pipes.

A wide grin displayed on her lips as she stoops down to meet the other's, acknowledging that she hasn't met her before. "You must be new around here, I know just about everyone here, but I've never seen you around here before," her strong French accent rolls around on her tongue and she would bit the corner of her lip to keep it from showing.

"The name's Margo by the way," she beams while holding out her hand.

@[G] Margo Laurent Aurora had long since decided that this day was just too much.
After having been led around the camp by Stephen she had managed to sneak away by herself, finally finding a secluded spot by a lake. She had made sure no one was around before moving onto the small pier and getting on her knees, peeking down into the dark water. Her reflection almost seemed foreign for a moment, her face framed by short dark locks, her body hidden behind a horrid orange t-shirt. She stared for a moment, thoughts rushing through her mind.
So, she was a demi-god... That wasn't too strange.

She splashed a handful of water in her face, gasping as she reeled a little back. Okay, being told you were a demi-god was not normal. Not at all. It was weird. Mental! Aurora took a deep breath before getting closer to the edge of the pier again, kicking off her converse before swinging her legs over and into the cold water. A pleasant chill rushed up her feet and she sighed, closing her eyes.

What she needed right now was just a moment to relax and the time to process everything that had happened that day and the night before.
Demi-gods. Romans... Greeks...
"Okay... I'm insane. And this is my fever fantasy in the nut house....."

[post deleted by owner]

@[G] Nicholas Gasirkarov Christien gazed upon his rippling reflection for a moment. The flower beside his head in the reflection and the dagger his heart. It was a tempting idea to hide and choose peace over everything else--even if his heart screamed to embrace danger and fight. Because with danger would come sacrifices and sacrifices meant love. Love was what Aphrodite stood for. And there was no greater love than sacrifice. To sacrifice meant to be vulnerable and vulnerability was weakness. So would that mean weakness was love? Many famed and powerful leaders lost to love. Many of themselves lost in love. So love is not weakness. How can weakness be love, love be not a weakness, and weakness be a strength? And if stubbornness was his strength and love was stubborn, did that mean that he had no strength and he had no weakness? He simply had...

"No control." He dropped both dagger and flower to the ground, the dagger plopped against the shallow water instantly while the flower floated down gently. He took a deep breath. "Picked flowers can't be replanted, Nicholas. When we make a choice, something either lives or dies. Persephone has to deal with that wilting flower now."

He walked back to his abandoned clothes and dressed himself quickly, he's been long enough. As he put his cardigan back on, he instinctively felt for his watch; it settled back in its original place safe and sound. He took it out and examine a better view of his face through the small mirror. He looked, felt and moved the same. He didn't feel stronger even after such philosophy from Nicholas. It wasn't the guy's fault though. Christien heard genuine words, felt nothing but warm encouragements. What Christien lacked was understanding and acceptance. Even though Nicholas clearly made an effort to uplift his doubts, Christien can't seem to wrap his head around the idea of being strong without seeing it.

Nicholas told him that he saw something in him--in Cabin 10. What? What did he see that Christien Keither Lovenly couldn't comprehend? It's ironic how the son of the goddess of beauty couldn't see the beauty a blind man could. Truly ironic, and truly disturbing. Christien felt an empty feeling inside of him. It wasn't something a fifteen year old struggled with. It was feeling of nothing. Feeling nothing--not being nothing just /feeling/ like there was nothing left to feel.

"I...I need to sit down..." Christien fell to his knees. He clutched his head in his hands. "Too much to handle right now." Christien took a few breaths as he tried to put his finger on what he's feeling. "Ugh, this is why I hate overthinking."

[Ok... hmm. This is word vomit. Darn it. HAHAHA. Christien will feel better, just give him a while XD LOL]

@[G] Christien Lovenly Part 2

"But doesn’t it look desirable? That for once, we don’t need to hold weapons.”

Immediately, he pulled away after growing uncomfortable. He was slightly apologetic to the young boy for being dominant and forceful once again. It was something he inherited from Zeus. Not a bossy mouth, but his bossy actions. The son of Zeus sighed and apologized, “I’m sorry for doing this to you. But you need to look at yourself differently. Anything. Dangerous or not, but not weak.”

He thought about Christien’s remark and shrugged, “Unless you want to train more, then I can stay longer. But first,” He pointed to the flower. “Could you plant that on the soil for me? I don’t want Persephone cursing me.” A light smile formed on his expression.

@[G] Christien Lovenly Part 1

"Trust me, it took me twice the control I need not to trick you once more, and tackle you on the water.” Nicholas boldly joked; however, ending up punished by a cold splash of water on his face. Such raw chilliness sparked the desire for revenge, but the child of Zeus laughed it off. “An Aphrodite thing, huh? Considering that I am blind, I admit that I have little knowledge of your kind.”

Most evenings, he would find himself pondering on what he cannot understand about other cabins or Camp Half-Blood in general. Things that needed the use of sight, and the mere formulation of theories will not be sufficient. In fact, reading won’t suffice—not because of his preference to use his time to train over reading; but the lack of braille-based reading materials in the library.

"You find my stubbornness a strength?" He heard Christien say. "That's something you don't hear everyday. Usually, people just tell me I'm a brat. Or I'm selfish. Pushy. Inconsiderate. Everything I'm not but still act like."

“Do you know what is worse than getting killed by the enemy? Joining them and embodying their own wicked ideologies. To be stubborn and to be rational—these are strengths, greater when combined; but to be stubborn on the wrong selfish things and intentionally blind oneself for it? That’s being a brat.” Nicholas smiled at him, like a professor smiling at his student. “You are many things Lovenly. Indeed, you can be rather pushy, and loquacious but you are not a brat. We are programmed to the ideologies of our godly parent, regardless of Free Will or ‘making our own destinies’. It is in our DNA, which carries the principles we deem as rational. An Ares kid will find it rational to be aggressive, and they can only understand that better than anyone. A child of Hephaestus may find automatons as something better than us high-maintenance creatures of vulnerable flesh and limited blood. For them, they might find it rational to create automatons.”

“And only they can understand that. Same as you, son of Aphrodite. I believe that you hold your own ideologies whether you are aware of it or not. And only you can understand that. So yes, your stubbornness is a strength. But you need to be stubborn on many things other than looks or inferiority.”

The last statement was from his best friend. Nicholas got himself involved in a fight in the past, and being blind was a big disadvantage; however, he never thought of backing out until his whole face was bruised and swollen from the punches. Until the bully saw him unworthy anymore. His cousin, who was a spectator in the fight, reprimanded him for being so stubborn. But his best friend was the only person who understood. “You are stubborn, Nikolai. And that’s a good thing. But you need to be stubborn on many things other than winning.” That taught Nicholas not to glorify power or victory. That taught him not to be like Zeus.

The thought of her made him sad but Nicholas did not show any of it. All he needs to focus on now is training more demigods and leading them somewhere. They were only continuing the fights that their brothers and sisters fought centuries ago. It showed how nothing has changed and nothing will change if they continue glorifying the wrong things. Change starts with the toppling of the pyramid. There is no such thing as the strongest or the weakest cabin.

Nicholas felt something touching his eyes. He was about to jerk back until Christien murmured something about having beautiful eyes and being able to see the truth.

But as soon as he pulled back, Nicholas approached Christien and pulled out two things, a normal steel dagger from the armory and a flower that he picked nearby. There was one thing he hasn’t addressed yet. “Maybe you don’t need to be dangerous.” He persuasively grabbed each of Christien’s wrist, pressed the hilt of the dagger on one palm, and the stem of the flower on the other palm. Domineeringly, he folded Christien’s fingers to wrap around the hilt and the stem; before grabbing his shoulders and leading him to the waters by kicking on the ground until his feet meet a splash.

As if controlling a mannequin, Nicholas lowered the hand that held the flower and raised the hand that held the dagger. “Look at your reflection on the water. Tell me, do you think being dangerous will bring peace to this never ending fight?” He sounded agitated but passionate.

Then Nicholas softened, “How about this?” Switching them by lowering the hand that held the dagger and replaced it with the other hand. “Does that look weak to you? Holding a flower?"

@[G] Tyler Jefferson Someone told her once, a soul mate is not the person who makes her the happiest, but the one who makes her feel the most. Who conducts her heart to bang the loudest, who can drag her giggling with forgiveness from the cellar they locked her in.

It has always been him.

Five years -- maybe six, since she last seen him. Now she was suffocating in his beauty, the light in his eyes that could make Apollo burn with jealousy. The way he held so much love for her. He treated her like absinthe, half poison and half god. She hated it. She hated him. Yes, she hated him. Love, too, it was hard, hating kind of love. Because his light knew all the cracks in her armor, his laughter caused her bones to ache in ways she didn’t want to feel. He always left her wondering how a heart like his, could love a heart like hers?

Her and Tyler had always been completely opposites, but he always knew how to make her smile a little brighter, laugh a little harder and love a little stronger. Since the first day they met in kindergarten, when they both got in trouble for fighting -- she turned to him and smiled. He thanked her for helping him out and she told him she hated cheaters. That two against one wasn’t fair -- he smiled at her. It was the first time Rose ever saw a smile like that, she didn’t think anyone could smile like that -- as they grew up, coming and going in each other’s life they only became more different.

She is a thunderstorm setting the mighty sea on fire, where he is a calm tide washing on the gentle shore. She was made of self hate and empty promises but he was of self confidence and bona fide love. And maybe she once wished -- she could change from a storm to steady falling shower; maybe that way he could smile in her presence without fear of falling and she could be right for him. She used wanting to die for the wrongs guys, she wished that she could live for a good one.

Rose knew that could never be possible, a rose by any other name would be just as deadly. It was in her veins, the blood that flowed through her was blood that slaughter -- that killed -- Tyler didn’t need that kind of flower -- he deserved someone who was sweet and fragile. Not one with thorns and blood.
She could feel his eyes roam her body, she knew he would want to how where all these scars and injuries came from. But it was better if he didn’t know, if he kept his distance. If not by choice, she would force him to stay away. She would turn his sweet love bitter -- until her name was now his worse nightmare. Until she was his nightmare. She had vengeance in her heart, death in her hand, blood and revenge were hammering in her head. She had no room to love.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. Why? Why? The question she asked herself every night before she tried to sleep. The question she cried when she found her mother’s dead body gripping onto her baby picture. Her face gave away nothing -- frozen and cold she replied.

“Why what?”

@[G] Rosemarie Dragomir Time somehow stood still as he was drowned in her gaze.

Her eyes evidently softened as she closed the distance between them to touch him, feeling her hand still as soft as the inside of a rose petal against his cheek. An inaudible sigh emitted from his lips at the sound of her voice - it was the same soft, vulnerable voice that he learned to accept, that rung into his ears like a beautiful piano piece. He slowly nodded, his hand finding its way toward hers like it it had a life on its own, accomplishing its sole purpose of entangling its fingers between hers like it was the only right thing in the world. Their brief moment was silent, yet beyond the comfort he'd receive from the company of other people. Indeed, Rose was a different case to him. She was a special one - someone his heart would never forget to save a little space for.

Despite all the rocky roads that they've crossed in the past, it seemed like his feelings never changed, for the deprivation of her was not hard to yearn for after all these years. He hadn't realized how much he missed her if not for the way she unconsciously wore off her tough exterior, paving way for that meaningful gesture of recognition, even if it only lasted for a quick second. It was more than enough to ignite that tiny spark of hope inside of him that maybe... Just maybe, she may still possess the same sweet, angelic smile trapped within those walls - only that, maybe, she still didn't want to let the world embrace its beauty. Tyler silently hoped - at least, not yet. But gods, how he'd give anything to witness the glow of her smile once more.

He was barely conscious of reality when she quickly withdrew her hand from his, building up her cold exterior all too quickly as if the warmth between them was nothing but invisible flames.

Tyler looked helpless. Confusion was visible in his eyes as it silently searched her own, seeking the same softness her icy gaze once held. He didn't know why, but for what seemed like the hundredth time, she was pushing him away. And the thought of being pushed away by the only person that gave meaning to his life, brought him too much pain. It was worse than the pain of bearing with her unnatural physical contacts, it was the kind of pain that would slowly consume him from the inside. The pain that lets him tremble in agony without the same pair of arms that embraced him wholeheartedly.

She pained him too much. Yet he still found himself tolerating.

The male demigod locked his gaze on hers, bare emotions clouding his face, giving everything away to let the world see - all the pain, sadness, helplessness. Tyler was a hot mess of vulnerable emotions, but there was only one word that managed to escape his lips.

"Why?"

@[G] Tyler Jefferson It was a jolt, a sudden spark between them when she grabbed him. The way he allowed her to grab him, not many could with stand her sheer force, yet he did. Like his body was used to the way she held it, maybe that was the first sign that should have sent something off in her mind. But it didn't -- instead she let him go and looked him over.

"You -- How do you know my name?" She was going to answer his question, yet she asked one of her own. Not many called her simply Rose, it was Rosemarie until she asked them to call her just Rose. Some didn't even bother calling her name at all -- as if was a bad word to say. They would only hiss it out if they had to, never allowing it to stay too long; they didn't want to dirty themselves with the likes of her.

He stared at her and she shifted under his eyes, she didn't feel embarrassed or awkward -- she felt see though. As if he was looking right pass her into something -- someone she no longer was. She is passion embodied, a flower of melodrama in eternal bloom. Rose was never in between it was all or nothing -- she either hated you with all her being or loved you with her complete soul. That is why she could never forgive someone once they hurt her. That is why she was so hell bent on finding out her killed her family. That is why she dare not look away from the boy.

Staring back into his eyes, searching for something -- some memory too long forget. Something that tells her who he /was/ to her. Who he /is/ to her now ? Suddenly it hit her, those eyes how they soft when he looked at her , the way he allowed her to pull him and how his body didn't seem to flinch at her touch. It was him --

Perhaps it is true that we do not really exist until there is someone there to see us existing, we cannot properly speak until there is someone who can understand what we are saying in essence, we are not wholly alive until we are loved. Memories of Tyler and her flooded her mind, the first time she met him; he had that same look on his face. "Tyler?" Her voice was soft it came out like a whisper. She moved to him reaching out her hand to touch his cheek -- she had thought him dead or simply gone. She never thought he would be here standing in front of her.

But she was the one who was dead, well the Rose he knew was gone, this girl -- this girl was rotten inside. Peel off a layer of that beautiful skin, and you’d find nothing but rotten flesh. 'Nothing." She said taking her hand away from his face, moving back to put distance between them.

@[G] Rosemarie Dragomir It was a shock to the lad when she suddenly took a tight grip upon his arm, her hands seething with strength so unnatural for her gender that even Tyler felt his arm aching as it was enclosed by her powerful hands. The funny thing was, he actually didn't mind how her firm grasp brought him pain. It's not that he was naturally weak and unable to defend himself, but the action felt so eerily familiar that the lad let her pull him up regardless of the numbness that shot his legs.

"Ow- What did I do?" The second his eyes met hers, recognition eventually washed over his once, baffled expression. "...Rose?"

It was all surreal, that he even thought he's still lost in his dreams, but she was right in front of him, physically unchanged, yet emotionally wrecked like the last time he saw her - still possessing the same dark pair of orbs that were once soft and heartwarming, but masked with coldness and hostility. With the way she icily looked at him, Tyler figured that his silent wish of meeting the same person from years ago was probably a hopeless case. She looked like a completely different person now, and her change of aura caused the male to momentarily lose the right words to say.

His gaze wandered upon her exposed skin, for she seemed to be in swim attire, feeling his face paling at the sight of the fresh scrapes and burns that covered her arms and legs. The male demigod couldn't help but to let his instincts take over and immediately take hold of her arms, his thumb gently brushing against a healing bruise, his eyes solely boring into hers with overflowing concern. "What happened to you?"

@[G] Tyler Jefferson Rose was getting ready to dive in the water when she sensed him. And when he spoke, her mind tried to figure out why it felt comfortable. She was never comfortable -- tripping down was porcelain flesh was cover in bruises and cuts. She could never stop fighting, even when she was hurt. She didn't have it in her to stop. So unlike most girls who cares about their appearance, Rose gave up on them along ago.

Walking to him, her face was cold and blank. "Yeah you. " She said grabbing his arm and pulling him out releasing him once she got him in plan view. Rose was firm and crossed her arms, she wore her tragedies like armor. That's why most of the campers never came near her too afraid of the blood rose. But here was some kind , he looked older than her. He looked -- she couldn't put her finger on it. But she felt like she knew him.

@[G] Rosemarie Dragomir Despite the strong pull of his beloved nap, Tyler was never the heavy sleeper. The mere sound of someone walking nearby immediately got him on his senses, which had an obvious difference from the once peaceful sound that emitted from his surroundings. His left eye cracked open as the slightly inaudible rustling of leaves grew louder by the passing second, the idea of having company fully awakening the lad from his trance.

A yawn then escaped his lips, long limbs stretching as he slightly exercised his muscles from the hour-long nap. Tyler sat up as quietly as he could, his upper body leaning more comfortably against the tree trunk, only to wince at the numbness his legs felt. With that, the lad lifted his right calf, apparently causing more leaves rustling by the action and a few seconds later, an alarmed feminine voice was heard not too far away.

At some point, the tone in her voice was awfully familiar, although he couldn't seem to decipher where he had heard it. "Uh, me?" Being polite as he was, he answered with a less hostile voice. He slightly leaned forward, peeking from behind the tree but his movement still not enough to catch a glimpse upon the girl's face.

@[G] Tyler Jefferson Silence.

Some days, that's was all she ever needed. Some days the laughter, the joy and the happiness made her sick. Some days, Rose was more like a wilted flower than a growing one -- she was beautiful, yet she was dying slowly. That's why she needed the silence, to find some peace at mind but yet she couldn't find peace at mind. Not with others around, not with kids who constant talk about how much their life .

Do they even know what that meant? -- What it meant to lose everything, sure they were stuck at this camp. But one day, some day -- they would be able to leave and be with their family. She hated that -- old wounds hurt her far more than her cuts and bruises. Lost in her mind until someone's foot steps brought her back to here she was. "Whose there?"

@[G] Christien Keither Lovenly [ Ohh sure sure! ouo Thanks for the reminder. I'll keep that in mind ;u; ]

@[G] Tyler Jefferson [Hi there! ^_^ uhm, just here to warn you that Nicholas and I are rping in this room. But you can still use it since we're on hold and he's on hiatus I think. Just for a future reminder to be sure that we won't overlap when he comes back and cause weird confusions LOL HAHAHA. But other than that this room's all yours :)]

@[G] Rosemarie Dragomir [ Starter for Rose ]

Lethargy is a cruel, undefeated enemy.

Apparently, it was one of those cool afternoons where Tyler didn't feel like doing anything productive - like exercising his combat, or taking drills in the fields, pulling a few pranks, or even taking a bite inside the dining pavilion. It was another severe case this week, and was as inevitable as ever. His entire system was drowned in his self-triggered immobility; his tall, lanky figure sluggishly resting upon the roots of a nearby tree by the lake, comforted by the shade and the tranquil sound of the waters before him.

The male demigod savoured his own lazy moment, silently appreciating the view that beheld him. It reminded him of that one time when he felt the comfort of the soft waves lulling him to sleep as he watched the sun set by the seashore - his arms fondly wrapped around a familiar presence, his tall stature very well complementing her petite figure like they were puzzle pieces brought to life. His memory was slowly drifting back to the beauty of her, and her alone. Immediately, he became nostalgic.

What seemed to be a relaxing afternoon turned into a sickly sweet dream the moment he felt the familiar essence of drowsiness slowly tugging upon his eyelids. It was breathtaking, yet silently heartbreaking. His heart beated on a quicker pace, its every pump searing with pain as the thought of her haunted him by the passing second.

It often pulled nightmares to his sleep - lethargy.

Indeed, it is a very difficult enemy. At least, to him.

@[G] Nicholas Gasirkarov [OTL]

Christien almost didn't catch the watch. But he did, so he felt a little relieved. He waddled back to land and his underwear was wet, so he needed to wait a while to wear his pants.

"You made me think we would wrestle! You tricky son of a gun." Christien huffed and splashed water to Nicholas. He climbed up the bank. He shivered a bit and let out a shaky breath. He took time to get adjusted to the cool air. "If you could see me right now I'd bet you would do anything to have the sun warm me. It's an Aphrodite thing." Christien muttered.

Aphrodite children had that effect. An effect that had anyone looking at them be focus on only them. And that effect was so strong they were a great distraction. He may or may not have use this gift to his advantage at one point or another. Christien made a good decoy too. He laid back on his palms and basked in the sun.

Christien took in what Nicholas said. From the 'not weak' and 'glorify winning' part to the 'dangerous' and 'complain' part. It seemed like Nicholas, even when blind, saw positives in all his negatives. Like how he and his half-siblings saw possibilities: chances and gambles on love. Unpredictability was less of a burden to them. It came with the package, a mere frame that came with a pretty picture. He, himself, /felt/ more and that gave him more intuitive feeling than inquisitive thinking. He felt possibilities form even if reality molded otherwise. But still, what he felt was more often right than wrong. And so, Aphrodite children were naturally stubborn and impulsive. They felt things even before people see them. That hasn't stopped them though.

Should he view this as a positive? Christien would have second thoughts. Their stubborness was just viewed as stubborness. They'd end up being called a 'beauty with an attitude.' That's not really a complete positive.

"You find my stubborness a strength?" Christien folded his knees in front of him. "That's something you don't hear everyday. Usually, people just tell me I'm a brat. Or I'm selfish. Pushy. Inconsiderate. Everything I'm not but still act like."

He started to dress himself as he talked. "I'm not dangerous-- difficult but not dangerous. I'm barely a threat to a dog let alone a monster." He said as he poked his head and arms through the right holes. "But I agree that love is chaotic. It messes up everything and everyone. If we, mom's kids, are as dangerous as love, I'd doubt it. Unless somehow my siblings and I get a one-on-Cabin-10 with mom herself, we'd be just beautiful children--minus the ones with charmspeak. They're the real 'dangerous ones.'"

Christien threw a pebble far into the lake. It flew through a naiad, making her unhappy and he mumbled an apology. Christien vaguely remembered asking why he never was gifted with charmspeak other than being born a boy. Being a pessimistic lad, he conjured up answers for himself since he doubted his mother would answer: maybe he's not good enough, unworthy; maybe he's just not powerful enough; maybe Aphrodite forgot about him.

He knelt beside Nicholas, and touched his eyes. "Seeing the world isn't what's beautiful about it." Christien moved his hand to the boy's chest. "It's knowing what it holds." He pulled his hand back.

"You may not be able to see, but you know more than me. You may be blind but you see the truth. /Flaws/ make people beautiful not the lack thereof. And you have beautiful eyes, Nicholas. Useless, but beautiful nonetheless."

A slight pause from Christien. He felt slightly uncomfortable due to his ADHD. "So... should we talk more about ourselves? Like, without sounding like a preacher?" He laughed. "Or is training still in session?"

@[G] Christien Keither Lovenly “Not information.” He shouted in the fog. “A conversation. What I’ll tell you is definitely subjective.”

While waiting for the son of Aphrodite to enter the cool waters of the lake, Nicholas kept still and thought of alternatives; other ways to find Christien’s role in battle. The fact that he didn’t have charmspeak was frustrating him. What else could there be? Although persuading the guy to enter the lake is already a giant leap of improvement.

His legs can feel the ripples, assuming that Christien entered the lake. He also sensed that he removed his clothing, given that there wasn’t any wind resistance whenever the air hit the Aphrodite kid.

“You weren’t supposed to do that.” Nicholas quietly murmured. He rubbed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture whenever he felt defeated. He wasn’t being an effective trainer.

"Can I have my watch back now? I think my left foot's getting eaten." The young man said.

The son of Zeus threw the pocket watch towards his voice and nodded. “I think it’s only fair that I won’t tell you everything, especially if this is the only motivation I have for you to comply.” He waddled his way back to the bank of the lake and sat on a dry spot.


Nicholas rubbed his cold knees. “Let’ see... what can I say about the children of Aphrodite? Hmmm. I’m not going to generalize you but judging from how long it took me to get you in that lake—you aren’t weak."

He paused.

“Look at what we do. Look at what we are made to do. We fight. Some of us may hate fighting; but we all glorify winning... even at the little things; heck, a simple argument—and a winner can’t be determined without a fight unless everyone wants everyone to win. And with that glorification, we will never escape. But what can we do?”

“My philosophy is rough, my friend. There are a lot more to consider in this aspect but let me tell you, we are stuck in this plot. It’s the same movie, only with different actors. We are fighting the enemies our brothers fought millenniums ago. And the romance in the past movies only brought chaos. Do you know how dangerous you are?”

He searched for Christien and gave him a pat on the back, chuckling. “I could tell you more but you need to show me that you can do more. Now it’s your turn to talk. Tell me everything you want--- from “how pushy Nicholas has been” to what will motivate you in fighting. Listening is all I can do with these rotten eyes of mine.”

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@[G] Christien Keither Lovenly Nicholas ignored all of Christien’s complains as he rummaged his pockets. “It’s not like I wanted to do this to anyone, believe me, it feels really uncomfortable to be this intimate with someone I barely know, but I need to get something precious from you. We all have treasures with us.”

The lake played the greatest role of this challenge; it wasn’t wrestling or the test of strength, Nicholas wouldn’t use his strength at all after his little attempt to get Christien’s pocket watch—the boy basically showed little resistance. He wanted to start with the basics: showing guts and getting dirty. Of course, the son of Zeus needs to deceive the son of Aphrodite into thinking that this is a challenge of strength; however, such lie was merely a threat that will test whether Christien would withdraw, tail between his legs; or advance, stepping out of his comfort zone.

"Come on, give it back. What do you need?" He asked,

“I need you to get this from me. Think of it as motivation. Something to drive you.” The son of Zeus shrugged, appearing laid-back and clueless when inside he was praying for Christien to stop complaining and step into the lake. Although, Nicholas has no intention of relieving his way of intimidation. He was surprised that the boy didn’t have charm speak: it was one of the most dangerous abilities once utilized properly. “Okay, you don’t have charmspeak. That’s one reason why you need to step-up your game.”

Just try. Nicholas gritted his teeth, avoiding the thought that Christien is a hopeless case. He used his frustration to appear serious and threatening; however, inside he was willing to return the pocket watch the moment Christien steps inside the lake.

The son of Zeus thought of something, perhaps being in public is a discouraging element. Quickly, he extended his arm and said, “Change of plans. You don’t have to wrestle me for it. All you need to do is get into the lake and retrieve the pocket watch. But don’t expect that I’ll make it easy for you.”
It wasn’t mist control but a clever way to use atmokinesis. Nicholas willed for fog to shoot out of his hands, enveloping the whole area in a thick white fog/ cloud. This way, no one would see Christien get wet or muddy.

“Okay. I’ll be moving around.” He lied, staying firm in his spot; his left arm extended forward, holding the pocket watch. “Naiads will be playing with us though. Play fair. No fights.”

He spoke for the last time, his tone full of sincerity, “Look, all I need is your effort; for you to make an attempt. That’s all! I don’t want to sleep tonight thinking that a certain child of Aphrodite has little capabilities. The rest can compete all they want. They can race for all the greatness they want but I’m not like them. I'm not like Zeus. I don’t want to leave anyone behind. And if you’re still curious on what I see in Cabin 10. You need to come here for me to tell you.”

@[G] Nicholas Gasirkarov Exploring boundaries was the least bit of Christien's concern. Right now he was pretty much occupied on a physical exam that he wasn't aware was necessary to be stronger. "And what do you intend to accomplish with my raised arms? Prove that I have sweat stains on my underarms? I'll have you know I use the best anti-pers--" He was forced to raise them anyways. "See? No marks--"

If there was one thing Christien was used to, it would be getting push around. And he definitely felt like a leaf being swayed in the wind. He complained with his arms raised, "Is it really necessary to force me into doing this? I mean, I appreciate the help but I feel like a punished-- HEY!" Christien shrieked when he felt a hand groping his jeans. He might have blushed but it quickly faded and was replaced with irritation. "You do know that it's illegal to fondle a fifteen-year-old, right?! Just getting it out there in case you didn't want to go to jail or whatever." Christien tried to shake the other man's hands away. "Dude, what's wrong with you?! Stop it!"

Christien shook his head when Nicholas stopped. "I'm pretty sure that's not what they mean when they say you want to get in someone's pants--it's not done like that anyways." He fixed the creases formed on his shirt and realigned his pants. He looked up and found a piece of home in the possession of a not-so-gentle man. "Okay, yes, that is mine and it is very valuable." Christien held up his hands as if warning him not to do anything rash. "Both sentimentally and monetarily..."

Nicholas ran for the lake and Christien had no choice but to follow. "Come on, give it back. What do you need?" Christien looked around the lake as Naiads resurfaced and started prodding at the Zeus kid.

"You can scratch out charmspeak. I don't have it." Christien rolled his eyes and turned his heel then crossed his arms. "Besides, I won't do it. You know you're stronger than me, so you'd win no matter what. Let's skip the part where I get wet and give me back my watch." He turned his head towards Nicholas, studying his face and the situation. He could attempt to do it, just to try if he actually had the guts to get out of his comfort zone or even break his Aprhodite ways. But would he wager the amount of time he spent caring for his skin; consequences that he would deal with if he ruined his hair; and getting his clothes wet and uncomfortably sticky for a jewelry he cherished the most simply because it was given to him by his dad? He turned around, fully facing Nicholas, as if he was ready to take the plunge. Of course he would -- he would in a heartbeat. Christien did another 180 degrees and frowned. He would, just not today.

@[G] Christien Keither Lovenly [It won’t get worse, I’ll refuse to see it that way. It doesn’t matter how challenging replying would be as long as you’re enjoying the RP. It’s okay. :-) You’ll improve. Anyhow, you have to tell me if I am too dominant or unfairly controlling.]

It was a surprising transition; previously, personalities were clashing but now, Nicholas’ random suggestion on nicknames led a firework of laughs. However, the son of Zeus wasn’t laughing. He didn’t know how to feel at Christien’s sudden rejection toward Klaus. “You do know that Klaus can be pronounced in various ways.” He pointed out, scratching the back of his head. Nicholas had nothing against Christmas but he never liked the big guy in the red who always steals his milk. He’d always pull the beards of Santa mascots on shopping malls--- basically, that was Nicholas’ only joy during Christmas. “But yeah. Let’s go with Nicholas.”

It was his turn to smile, the moment Christien started asking about their little activity; Nicholas mentally rubbed his hands together. He formulated a set of challenges; some would bring the son of Aphrodite out of his comfort zone. “Lift your arms and stay still.” He requested, but he didn’t want to hear any of Christien’s questions so Nicholas took a step closer and grabbed Christien’s wrist, raising them before letting go. “Trust me, stay still.”

He rounded the son of Aphrodite, creating little breezes so he could sense the finer details: the shape of his clothing, or jewelry he might be wearing. Unfortunately, Nicholas found none so he resorted to seek inside the pockets of Christien’s jean. “Hold still. Don’t fuss.” His hand aggressively and firmly grabbed Christien’s arms just in case the boy would not cooperate; even if he doesn't, the son of Zeus had no trouble using his strength toward men.

“Aha.” He took out a flat circular object. A pocket watch. Judging from the intricate carvings, it must be precious. “I’ll assume that this is yours. Even if you claim that it isn't, either way, I bet that it is priceless.” He waved the pocket watched in front of Christien’s face.

Quickly, he dropped Christien’s arms and started backing away, running toward the lake. Even with his clothes on, he plunged and waddled to the shallow yet muddy parts of the lake. Naiads appeared beside Nicholas, poking him like curious children. Nicholas smiled and placed his index finger on his lips and hushed them. “Ladies, I need you as my eyes, if the boy over there withdraws and runs away, I need you to tell me, okay?” He also whispered a request, to which they all agreed.

Nicholas turned to Christien, “It’s simple, all you need to do is to retrieve your pocket watch from me. I’ll be here where the water is up to my waist. No weapons for now. You need to wrestle me for it. I need to know how strong you are. Then we’ll move to weapons. Think of this as a way for me to diagnose you so I could formulate a fitting challenge next time. There are only three rules: First, you can’t get help from anyone. Second, no kicking of the private parts or hair pulling. I don’t know if you have experienced it but it is inhumane and excruciatingly painful. Third, no charm speak.”

He wrapped up the rest of the rules, taking out his Swiss army knife and yanked out the tiny chain which grew to a medium sized chain. “Your pocket watch will hang on my neck and I will not touch it at all times. Likewise, I am only allowed to defend myself. I can’t attack you. And I can't leave the lake. If the pocket watch falls, the Naiads will help us; however, they will return the pocket watch back to me. If you haven’t retrieved the pocket watch within thirty minutes, you lose.”

“So, are you ready? Do you want to change the rules?” He grinned.

Christien sighed. Love. Love. Love. Wow, love does hurt, he thought to himself. Christien wasn't heartless. He wasn't insensitive. He felt Nicholas fade away whenever he talked about love. "I told you, a Child of Zeus, or any god for that matter won't last in a conversation about love. They get bored or hurt. So, whatever. We move on." He said bluntly without his heart in it. He knew there were different reasons. He didn't need to mention it. Everyone knew they have their own pain and why.

Christien hadn't found true love yet. So he can't be as opinionated as he was earlier. Actually, he's still fifteen, maybe it's just not his time yet. It wasn't his turn. Or maybe his mom thought he wasn't ready for love, that he wasn't ready for the heartaches and euphoria that came with it. but nevermind, he didn't give it much thought. he assumed that no child of Aphrodite died a , or at least every one of them got a first kiss.

Christien forced himself to smile. "Yep, very popular with the ladies." He rolled his eyes. The only true ladies he knew were his sisters. That's about it. The other mortal 'ladies' were... not so ladies. They treated him like a doll. Once they got what they want, 'buh-bye darling.' They were the Mean Girls. They weren't real friends. They used him to get discounts for plastic surgery from his dad and to lure in rich boys. Once they snagged up their prey, they leave the bait. It broke his heart. Some mortal girls are nice though. They treated him like a real person. And in return, Christien set them up with someone perfect for them.

"Klaus? Oh my gods-- you know what, let's just call you Nicholas. We'll stick with that." Christien laughed, "Klaus does not do any demigod justice. Not even the best of the best."

"So, Klaus..." Christien snickered. "Okay, I can't. I'm sorry. It's nothing personal. I just believe in Santa too much." He held in his laughter and composed himself. "So Nicholas... what are we going to do exactly? It's not lethal, is it? Should I change clothes, bring my weapons or something?"

[Awww, such a nice person T3T Hahahha. But seriously, please do tell me if it gets worse or looks forced. I don't want to make it hard to reply and I might regress rather than improve OTL hahaha

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@[G] Christien Keither Lovenly [Hey, there are no such thing as horrible lines. :-) It’s alright. The flow doesn't need to be smooth. A little chaos or contradiction makes it interesting. LOL. I won’t kill anyone.]

It's amusing; mentioning Zeus was amusing. Although Nicholas didn’t mean to be disrespectful, he admits that the old geezer is heck of a playboy. He gave a loud deep chuckle, and nodded in submission. “You’re right, I don’t have much to say. But the little things I speak are much different from yours.” He shrugged. For a moment, he felt sad at a certain memory but the son of Zeus reminded himself that there are greater issues to deal with other than love in a personal level. “Let’s say that I will forever, and always believe that love isn’t limited. Because I refuse to have 'others' or 'myself' as my choices. And if I am wrong, so be it. If I’m not cut out for love, heck, I don’t mind.”

Nicholas suppressed that painful memory and smiled coolly, raising his hands once more-- a gesture of surrendering, “Okay. It’s not my business. I understand. I won’t fret about that as long as you won’t bring out topics about ‘love’. Because I have little opinion toward that.” But he mentally added, *Because I don’t want to remember*.

The blind man distracted himself by formulating a training regimen in his head while listening to Christien. It seems that the son of Aphrodite is intrigued. Also, Nicholas shrugged at the mention of Christien’s sisters and his weird way of talking. “Yeah, they are sweet and all but I really don’t care about my image. Hm? You must be popular among the ladies then.” He said nonchalantly before shifting his attention to formulate more challenges in advance.

Apparently, he was taken aback at the sudden request for nicknames. “I beg your pardon?” He blurted, “No nicknames. It’s Nicholas.”

The son of Zeus didn’t have time to think of nicknames; to be honest, he didn’t want one. It took him a long time to tolerate the nicknames Nick and Nicky because they sounded like names from English speaking countries. He even punched a kid for calling him “Santa” or “St. Nick”. Nicholas was of Greek origin; Zeus wanted that name, but his mother preferred calling him Nikolai, a Russian variant to preserve his Russian roots. “It has three syllables! How can that be a mouthful? Even Poseidon had three syllables. Besides, I’m not going to lose anything if you’ll reject my offer. I’m just trying to help you.”

He knew better than to argue with him, especially with their conversation earlier. The son of Zeus held out his hand once more and sighed, “Fine. You can call me Klaus until tomorrow. It doesn’t matter what I'm called anyway but Nicholas is a preference.”

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@[G] Nicholas Gasirkarov "Gee, thanks for the berating honesty, Nicholas /Sparks./" Christien made a face. He felt flabbergasted. Was he being lectured about love? Nicholas did not just go there -- that's Christien's world, he didn't need political testosterone in his world.

"Pardon me, but Zeus isn't the god of love, is he? I might be rude for saying this but your father's not that much of the ideal lover. So I don't think his children would have much say in love. And as for self-love, that's not what I believe. We don't love ourselves, love is for others. Love is meant to be towards other people. You also don't get it on your own. Because if you do, then that would be unfair to the person whose heart you stole. You would have robbed them of the chance to love you; to give the romance you deserve when you sustain the love you need yourself. In order to love yourself, you must lose yourself in love. And in order to do that, you must love somebody else because if you don't that love will be weak." Christien took a shaky breath. Here he goes again, fighting for something he believes in. It was irrational if you ask him on a different day but right now he had too much pent-up frustration.

"My high standards aren't an inferiority complex." Christien felt warmer than necessary. He removed his cardigan and tied it around his waist. "My high standards are... are..." What explanation does he have? None. Nada. Zip. He didn't have any. But standards are standards. It's what people called virtual perfection. If standards are met then that's as close to perfect you can get. He didn't have explanations for his criterion, it's just... there. It exists. It didn't occur to him that much if it was for others or himself, it was just human nature -- it was in /his/ nature. "My high standards are none of your business."

[note: too deep in writer's block (can you tell with the horrible lines?! :< ) that i can't connect our replies properly OTL but the part below, some of Christien's sass has ebbed (finally) but still being a sardonic little runt that he is hahaha and he's responding to Nicholas' challenges. don't kill him please XD hahahah]

"A son of Zeus tempting the curiosity of a son of Aphrodite?" Christien smirked. "You do know that Cabin 10 is known for uncovering secrets right? I mean, deepest desires are hard to reveal but Mom's got quite a knack of it."

Christien laughed. He found the blind man endearing in a naive kind of way. "Please, my sisters would give any man a makeover. Especially ones that can catch attention." Christien stared at Nicholas far too longer than necessary. "I mean someone like me! Though I don't need it. But you know, you can never be too good-looking. As you said, love myself." He fanned himself. /Thank gods, Nicholas can't see me./

Christien pondered at the deal for awhile. Yes, Aphrodite kids can take a long time to make decisions. They're not that dense.

"Give yourself a nickname--a nice one!--other than Nick and exclusively for my use only, then we've got a deal." He crossed his arms. "Nicholas is a mouthful."