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Bear Necessity Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Dec 23, 2015 6:41 am
♊️ Arc One: One Year On... ♊️ Camp Gemini Training Grounds ~ Starting Area
░▒▓ ♈ IMPORTANT NOTICE This thread is a "starting area". This is one of the areas you may choose to start in during an Arc. You must start in one of these threads but you may choose any that you wish; you must post in one of these starting areas at least once before advancing to the Main Area.
░▒▓ ♈ SETTING BRIEF The Camp Gemini Training Grounds are located on the East Side of the Camp and are a little while away from the Fields of Mars. It is also different from the fields of Mars because it is much smaller and much better suited to individual training. It is a small grove surrounded by trees with tonnes of targets and dummies for Camper use.
The Members of Cabin Five and the Fourth Cohort are often sprawled across the Training Grounds in order to improve themselves and can sometimes come to blows. Other campers still use the place though and they improve by the day but now it's also a good place to get some entertainment as they can watch the two sets of thugs knock the snot out of each other.
░▒▓ ♈ SETTING CONDITIONS It is early morning (around 8.00am) and most people have to make the choice between going and grabbing breakfast or squeezing in an extra training session. The ground is pretty solid, it's been hot for the past few days and it doesn't look like it's going to rain any time soon...
There is quite a breeze whipping up though, it blows towards the Southeast... Almost as if the very wind is expecting something to happen.
░▒▓ ♈ IMPORTANT OOC DETAILS You must start here and post at least once before moving towards the Main Thread and by extension the Event Thread. First, post here until a mod posts as an NPC summoning everyone to the Main Meeting Area. Once this has been done we can work on starting the Capture the Flag Event.
Have fun!
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Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2016 8:42 am
 ”Ughhh…. Só mais cinco minutos por favor,” moaned Marisa as someone was trying to shake her, quite violently in her opinion, awake. She could hear her name being called, however to her it just came like an echo in the background instead of the yelling it really was.
Latching onto her blankets the brunette curled on her side mumbling something with a surprisingly blissful tone of voice, oblivious of her surroundings. The girl was pretty convinced she was back home attempting to avoid waking up early. Marisa after all never stepped inside a public school a day in her life, she was used to waking up with all sorts of schedules. She was a strong believer that some mornings were meant to be slept in, this one was one of them. Unfortunately as she was about to recall, she was far from “home”. Her live was no longer going to ever be the same as the past 17 years.
Something, or rather, someone gripped the other end of her blanket and pulled so hard that her own body followed after. With a yelp and a crush Marisa found herself no longer in the comfort of a bed, but sprawled out on the floor staring up at a man… no…. goat…. No… both? ”Ugh…. O… onde…. Es…. She began to utter in confusion as her mind slowly began to work, pulling memories of her journy to Camp Gemini, which is the only reason to why she stopped her question. With a sigh and a hand rubbing her rear end, she stood up. ”You didn’t have to wake me up so violently…. OI!!!!! The sun is barely out…. I am going to sleep mo…..” Her speech and motion back to her bed was stopped dead in its tracks as the Satyr’s gaze glared down at her in manner that was clear she had no other option. A few minutes later, Marisa would be dressed and groggily following after the beast half listening to the many things he was trying to tell her.
As Marisa was taken across the camp, she couldn’t help but feel shocked at the amount of people up at such an hour. A sense of dread fell over her shoulders as it dawned on her that this was pretty much her life now. Apparently, even if you were literally new to the camp you were given no special prep course. Nah, they just threw you in with the sharks right off the bat. If it wasn’t for the rumbling of her stomach, her mind would have continued thinking things over and over and over again.
”Um… excuse me… how about some breakfast?” “No!” Marisa twitched. No food? It seemed the Satyr knew what she was going to say as she opened her mouth to begin to form the word “but”.
“No time. Must prepare you!”
”Prepare me? Prepare me for wh……” The satyr and let her speak, or rather ramble, until arriving at the training grounds where some were already about it. The sight of real swords and other weapons glimmering in the rays of the rising sun as they slashed at wooden dummies silenced the ignorant girl. ”Oooh…..”
Blinking in disbelief she pointed out while looking dumbfounded at the Satyr. ”You want me…. Meeeee…. To do that…… today…. No… nope… népia…. Nem pensar… impossível…. Malucos….” Her with a weapon, running around? That was a recipe for disaster. Why couldn’t she just sit and watch for now?
Despite her effort to wiggle out of it, the Satyr was more persistent than herself. Before she knew it she was wearing ancient styled armor similar to that of the romans and greeks, while awkwardly wielding a blade. The half man goat had indeed explained the basics, footing, how to block and attack yet… this was just so much to process at once. She almost didn’t snap out of it as he went to attack her in order to force her to do as he had just exemplified. Marisa did none of what he had instructed, in her fright, she quickly stepped backwards basically flailing her arms, barely managing to bring the sword in front of her. Needless to say, the whole scenario ended with her getting knocked out of balance and in her process of recovering, she tripped and landed into a pile of gear sending helmets flying everywhere.
What a sight to see….
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Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2016 2:04 am
 
"Ahhh..." a sigh of relief as he took a drag from his smoke. It made him feel good, filled inside, and in some parts, full. He was happy, for he was just as fickle as the smoke he put into his body. At any moment, someone could light him up and he would just burn, but not without a fight. Everything was poetic, a style and grace to him that he held to himself. He couldn't eat breakfast just yet, he needed his morning fix. He was the opposite to flame, ice cold on the inside and yet he would never know. He didn't take the time to examine the situation, he just knew he didn't like it. Everything was for escape, to get away. If he didn't have his crew, he would be on the run, and yet everyday...He didn't need to be woken up, he hardly slept. His body was very fine turned to getting past the night and moving in the morning. He used to always be on the move, now being put in the same place made him a prowler, and annoyed.
He was not a fan of his cabin, so he slept the closest to the door. When he awoke, he grabbed his black jeans, black shirt and black leather. All black, dressed for your funeral. He gathered his items, more so his smokes and headed out of the cabin before most. He wondered what the people in charge of him thought, of how they would react to him always moving about. What would they do? Would they want to kick him out? He laughed at the idea, taking one last puff and putting it out for later. He was up, he was about and he needed food. He had smoked so much in the past he wasn't past a wake and bake, he was more just very tolerant, and bored. His boredom would be quickly broken when he heard the sound of a voice rebelling against the upper authority. Peaking his head out form the side of the messhall, he looked to a quite familliar face. He loved the sight he saw, Marisa, a so called Friend of his. She was up doing hard work, or being told to work. He laughed, watching as she flailed her sword, fell and scattered items everywhere.
"I got it!" He shouted, coming over like a very good boy. He had to show face, a free place was a free place. He didn't have to pay rent, he could somewhat smoke and at the end of the day, he loved his band mates. IF anyone got to make fun of Marisa, it would be him. "Don't do anything you will regret" The Satyr told him, Gerald smiling. "I regret being here....Everyday. " Gerald said, slipping away just before he could be questioned. He gathered as much helmets as he could ,bringing them back to their original position. "You like the dirt or you just love making a fool of yourself?" Gerald asked Marisa, laughing as he watched her now. "Are you doing any training? The goat asked Gerald, who turned his head in disgust. "I mean...I guess..." He said, bored of this moment already. He cared not for the training, nor for being here. He just wanted to hang and make music. "I mean I got a tune if you wanna hear. You finna get a cypher started or nah?" Gerald asked with a laugh, his normal flare to his words. The Satyr did not like that, tossing Gerald a sword which Gerald quickly moved out of the way of. "Woah! Woah! Lamb chop i'm not about that life. Not swords anyway. I like me a bow you know? They're fine like a woman, all curved and asking to kill." Gerald said with a bright smile. The Satyr was even more annoyed, looking through a collection of other items. "Yo...Wanna...You know...Get going?" Gerald whispered to Marisa, pulling her without question to the dining hall. Of course, before the Satyr could stop them, Gerald opened a hole, darkness his only way of getting in and out. Maybe it was too early to be playing with your powers, but Gerald didn't care, and who was going to stop him? They arrived inside the hall, Gerald looking for a seat. "Yo. We practicing tonight? I got a couple songs to think up. Maybe Atlas--Atlan! Maybe he got something." Gerald said, hand on his chin as he pondered. "Maybe you got a song we can sing?" He asked, wondering only of the music, not of much as. A good morning, a simple morning.
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Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2016 7:09 pm
 Whack. Whack. Whack. Thud. Whack. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Whack. Thud.
The poor training dummy never stood a chance. With every strike of his palm, every rap of his knuckles and every wallop of his elbow; Candour's mannequin slowly began to crack and fray. Given a few more minutes and the once recognizable shape of a Human Body would be nothing more than splinters - But Candour didn't care for the condition of a block of wood and some metal framing.
In all honesty, even if the thing did buckle and break and disintegrate there was nothing Candour would do about it. He'd hardly even notice. His mind was elsewhere and thinking of other things rather than of the combination of punches that he was throwing. He was doing it on pure instinct now whilst he thought about that morning and how he felt about it. His eyes were almost glazed as the rattled the dummy with another fearsome hook. His guard always remained up by his cheeks even as he swung in low and coiled his whole body to finally obliterate the mannequin with a strong left hook to the body. Wood flew about in every direction, Candour felt the sharp needles p***k against his bare chest, and "Satyrs" automatically came running to where Candour was to find out what was even going on.
The "Satyrs" made Candour sick. He couldn't understand why they were even allowed to stay; after everything that Grover did any Faun that decided to stay should have been put to the sword as traitors like the rest of their kind. But, as per usual, Graecus softness prevailed. The Fauns were allowed to stay and pretend that they were important. More stupidly they were given weapons - weapons that they now had drawn and point towards Candour as if he might be some sort of threat. Candour heard a bow string go taught...
10 Metres? No. Fifteen. Candour quickly assessed the situation about him before the "lead Faun" (what a joke) stepped forward, with his sword still drawn, and pointed it towards Candour. He was shaking. A pathetic excuse for a soldier or a "protector" or whatever the Greeks called them. But the Faun held fast and declared his intentions for everyone in the yard to hear. A show of force. Nothing more. All in efforts to try and intimidate Candour.
"Centurion Candour, is there going to be a problem here, sir?" They almost spat out the honour and, feeling the pride of Camp Jupiter on the line, Candour reached out towards his shirt which was hanging off of another training mannequin and covered the grizzly tapestry of scars across his body. The Fauns yelled at him to stop what he was doing and state his business but Candour ignored them. It wasn't until he'd put his purple Camp Jupiter Tshirt on and made sure that his Centurion badge was still pinned to it that he actually bothered to reply to them.
The Fauns quivered once again - they really were pathetic. First beggars then traitors and now these... incompetents. "The only trouble there will be - will be for you if you do not ******** off away from me, Faun!" growled Candour as he jabbed his finger towards the horned idiot questioning him. Candour imagined jabbing his chest with his strength, he imagined leaving bruises and welts like he'd been beaten even if it was just through some sort of passive aggressive means of contact. "So... How about you Three Amigos get out of my sight before I ask you to get another twenty of you nobs to make it a fair fight, eh?" The Satyr once again stood firm, the shaking of his legs got worse and by that point Candour was pretty much past the point of no return; in the end he just turned his back on them and made his way deep into the woods that surrounded the training paddock.
He found himself a rock, large and cold and sat on it. He didn't know what to say or do but his blood was now indefinitely at the boil...
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Bear Necessity Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2016 8:33 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 8:59 pm
  His morning was off to a great start. Great as it could get for him. He had but peek out from the cabin windows to see that laid out before him, the hills were filled with gloom. The sun was up perfectly like his father normally would do for the entire day, but there was no escaping the thick aroma that filled the camp. Camp Gemini. Still, he did his best to ignore most of the dread other demigods and species seemingly had dangle over their heads like thick storm clouds. He placed his headset over his ears and let the soothing voice of Tamia carry him away and just as the songbird sung Smile, the Apollo demigod put on a smile for himself. After checking in on Will and Nico's child, the male left the cabin with a bow in hand, where he would spend his morning first and foremost with daily training. They attempted to paint the camp out to be a cheery and happy place, but all the veterans knew the truth. They were looming back on the verge of war, another story to be told with the possible chance that this time, the entire world may know. Still, Altan had to wonder if he would be forced to be out on the front lines like all the other older Greeks, find someone of possible interest -That was not the top of the thing on his mind, but it would not be bad to have, especially given that demigods did not tend to last long- , and the ever underlying fate set out before him: Would this war finally do him in? "You can focus on music later on. Today's a busy day." The arrow soared through the air and if Gerald did not move, it would connect with his rear. The head was dull and would not p***k him in any shape or form, but he would fill the poke enough for him to stop leading the hapless Marisa Fontes away for Breakfast. "You know the Harpies throw a tantrum for people arriving early. You both need training."His eyes cut out to the gravel laden area before them. A male began to storm away into the nearby forest and Altan sighed. It was Candour Meadows, a name he could say, at times, he was not mentally thrilled to hear. He had the joy of being a Roman Demigod, Mars specifically, but with the grace of his Greek counterpart's children. It was probably best that he went to vent into the forest. The male had a lot of dislikes that sent him on a rampage and a bow was one of them. A few of Apollo's children learned that rather harshly, but they were mad at Altan the most for his ability to forgive the male and a few others, like Grover. Sometimes being caring for others came with a hefty price. A blessing and a curse wrapped all into one. His eyes did fixate themselves to the trees however while he was teasing both Marisa and Gerald. Someone was up there, so he simply waved his hand in an attempt to get their attention saying aloud "Care to join us!?"He looked at Marisa and Gerald and then jerked his neck and head slightly to motion them to the weapon rack. "Both of you, pick your poison."
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Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2016 7:47 pm
  Michael had been awake for awhile now just laying in bed. he was rather bored. He sighed and sat up deciding he wanted to go to the arena to have some fun. He pulled on a white t-shirt with snow white as a pinup girl sexily biting an apple. He played around with a circular ball of clear quartz as he walked. He quickly toyed with the idea of making some poor sap want the rock but decided he'd save it for later, besides he wanted to play with people in the arena. After a short walk he strolled in just in time to see a fellow camper angrily tell off a few satyrs. Smiling Michael walked towards him looking him over slowly. He looked angry, that's good. his anger would help Michael wheedle his way into the boys mind. Besides if it didn't he could possibly diffuse the boys anger to some other poor sap. either way it was going to be a fun time. Michael quickly wiped the smile off his face and adapted a look of admiration, albeit it false. "Wow, might i say that was rather impressive. those satyrs walking around like they know bett'er. I'm glad someone finally told them off" he said smoothly. he looked at the man and extended his hand "Hi im Michael, and now a big fan of yours" he said putting on an air of easy, but false, admiration. sadly for most Michael was an excellent liar and everything he said sounded genuine.
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 12:05 pm
 As expected it didn’t take long for someone to mock her face meet dirt. Fortunately it was someone she was somewhat familiar with. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly been the best. As a matter of fact for Marisa it was quite awkward. She had the inkling he was hitting on her, however it made no sense the way he was talking as if they knew each other. Apparently, she had a face of your average… ahem… well you get the picture. With a roll of her eyes she merely shrugged at his comment. It was too early in the morning to retaliate.
At the mention of music she rose her eyebrows. “Oh? Well why not sneak off to do so now?” She whispered to him to avoid being overheard by the Satry’s. Who knew what sort of punishment they would have for her if they knew. Marisa had decided it was to expect all the worst possibilities in this place. The brunette was left unsure if Gerald had heard her suggestion for all of a sudden she found herself beginning to be dragged off towards the dinning hall. Filling her stomach sounded like a good idea. Blinking, she gazed out in wonder at the black portal which formed in front of him. Seeing other demigods abilities was always fund, however…. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was safe. Maybe it was a trap for her soul to be sucked into the underworld? Who knew…
Semi facing the opposite direction they were heading Marisa threw herself to the ground, this time on purpose as Altan’s arrow continued its trajectory towards Gerald’s rear. A drop of sweat ran down her cheek as she hesitantly got back onto her feet. “That…. Almost hit me!” Her voice started off with a slight tremble but soon came out with powerful disbelief. Well Altan surely wasn’t there to help them with their escape but insist on their training. “Uh… no…. It’s not a good idea… I am not a fighter….”
In the end Marisa gave up trying to get herself out of it. She was living her now… she was going to have to live by their terms. Oh how she wished should could be somewhere exploring forgotten underwater caves and ruins….
Gazing at the weapon rack she was left with a very difficult choice. She had just tried a sword and it had felt quite foreign to her. There was no way she wanted to try it again. Not really believing any weapon there would ever suit her, her eyes fell upon something that looked quite familiar. A few steps allowed her to examine the weapon much closer. She was not mistaken it was a pickaxe or at least extremely similar to one. Now this was at least something she was familiar with using due to all those archeological digs…. Using it as a weapon was going to be interesting. Taking it into her hand, the handle felt like a piece of her own body. Its shape and weight was known to her. Turning to face Altan she shrugged her shoulders and showed her chosen poison with a doubtful look on her face.
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 12:45 pm
Nigel Robertson Son of Vulcan, Legacy of Pluto Companion: Franklin: Tortuga Mk1
"Alright Franklin, we're going to be recalibrating your various weapon functions. We must be ready for anything that the Camp Counselors want to throw at us," Nigel said to the large coffee table sized mechanical Tortoise he was currently tinkering with. Nigel has been doing this a lot as of lately. And although his constant friend hasn't complained, he could tell Franklin isn't happy with constantly being tinkered with.
"Nigel, this is the fourth time this week we have been out here "recalibrating" my weapons functions. It's safe to assume I am performing at peak capacity," Franklin answered with it's baritone, long, drawn out speech, moving it's large body to physically show it's displeasure right now.
Sighing, Nigel patted the large metallic shell of his long time companion before he continued tightening a few screws on it's heavy armored chassis before he continued talking, "I know buddy, I know you don't like the fact that I am more focused on your combat effciency. But you know as well as I that everybody is a bit on edge these days. Can't be too careful."
As they talked, Nigel caught out of the corner of his eye the Centurion of the 4th Cohort talking to a bunch of Fauns rather curtly before storming off into woods. Nigel motioned towards Candour's general direction before he looked at Franklin, "See what I mean?"
Of course, Candour tends to be like this often. But what made him different from the children of Ares is Candour has the discipline to keep his temper in check. Franklin craned its neck up to search around, tapping Nigel's thigh with its back leg before saying, "Look over there, Nigel. Seems your excessive preparations may have a purpose after all."
Nigel looked to where a small gathering of Greek Demigods was happening. Nigel recognized one of them as Altan Barr. Even though he hasn't interacted with many of the Greek Demigods, he has been around here enough to see his face and hear his name. And although he was a bit aways, Nigel could tell from what Altan was saying that today was going to be busy, like Franklin said.
"Well, let's get to work on your weapons then. Switch functions on your mouth cannon to fire and let's get started," Nigel finally said, his expression getting more serious as he pointed in a direction that has enough of a clearing that nobody was going to be roasted when Franklin begins to turn up the heat.
Franklin ground itself in, deploying it's grounding spikes on the bottoms of it's feet before fire roared from the mouth cannon Franklin extended from it's mechanical maw. Nigel remained alert in case someone came by, so he can tell Franklin to shut it down, and if he happens to burn a tree or something, he can easily snuff out the fire. Nigel may not like his pyrokinesis at times, but like any good Roman, he knew fire had it's use and that excessive torching was not a good idea unless it is necessary.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 11:50 am
 Mornings were rarely quiet. Such silence was one very few appreciated until it was completely gone. Demigods had always been an "energetic" bunch, especially when both Romans and Greeks are placed together. Lavandula was on Earth long enough to fully understand a Demigod's true nature. They were mostly all the same. Of course each one was different, but some things changed little from one to another. This ancient nymph knew full well that her beloved silence would be no more. The land she once roamed freely without interruption was now being used as a camp for the campless "heroes". Despite her dislike of their customs, Lavandula did not regret her decision. They had a common enemy and the same goal so for now she would tolerate and help them. Although she had agreed to aide the camp with her unique skills, she did not lay around in the healing barracks nor wander among them. Unlikr her sisters she was a nymph who felt little need in drawing attention to herself. Lavandula unless required tended to keep to herself, this morning was no different. The anthusai had come to find the most secluded and quiet place was within the forest even if just for a while. For some reason demigods and satyrs had an annoying knack of barging in on her peace even if most of the time it was unintentional. Most of the time they ended up just waking past as she blended almost perfectly within the patch of lavenders she made wherever she rested. At this moment she sat on the ground sheltered by a pool of purple and green. Her violet hued watched with calm annoyance as a son of war stormed into the area trampling over twigs and leaves with no mercy. In silence she observed him awaiting for the male to carry on but he didn't and an instant later another one joined initiating a conversation. Rolling her eyes she remained where she was. Humans were so quick to judge a race through the actions of a few. Such feeble and inconsistent creatures mortals were. So Grover happened to have been a Satyr, some of them had remained unaffected by his power that was saying something. Nymphs had gone off to follow the fake god as well yet demigods seemed much more forgiving of them, well at least male demigods... With mild curiosity Lavandula wondered how the son of war would respond. The only evidence of her and her flowers presence was their gentle scent in the air. ((Using my phone for post so I apologize if it isnt that great))
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Bear Necessity Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 2:12 pm
 Candour looked down at his hands and tried to regain his composure; as the heat pricked at his ears and skin, he could just about imagine the cold of bronze wrapping itself around his face and (in a sepia, flashback kind of colour) the forest around him disappearing to give way to a Coliseum. His torso was still bare as he spiralled deeper into memory, into anger and hatred and despite everything that was trying really hard to bring him back to the world of the living... Nothing seemed to work. The cold stone he was sat on gave way to the sandy floor of the Underground Coliseum. He could even remember the feel of the grains of sand as they lodged between his toes annoyingly. In one imaginary hand he had a buckler, in his other hand he held and gladius and he raised them to the sounds of thunderous applause. The only thing he could hear over the foot stomping and the shouting were his own breathes; each one echoed on the bronze of his mask.He tried to focus on his breathes, heavy as they were, Frank had once taught him that.
Frank lay dead at his feet. A "satyr" standing over him with a smile on its face. Candour charged forward in his waking dream but something else caught him off guard. A presence. Someone was in the clearing in the woods with him and his natural instincts pulled him from his dreams back to reality.
To the outside world, whilst all this was going on deep inside his mind, Candour looked to just be in deep thought. His hands were folded neatly within one and other on his lap and his bare chest rose and fell gently. He looked almost like he was meditating but instead of having his eyes closed there was instead a dazed, glossy look over them as he stared intently at the moss on the floor. When Michael entered the clearing though, the glazed film over Candour's eyes instantly faded and darted towards Michael with a skeptical look. He looked towards the advancing Graceus and standing up looked him up and down as he spoke.
Candour's bare chest shimmered in the morning light and the hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny sliver lines looked gruesome on the tall, muscular Son of Mars. However, Candour smiled and grabbed Michael's hand. But maybe not the way that Michael wanted...
Michael's hand began to crack as Candour's grasp tightened around it and the smile that had once been across his face faded into furrowed brow and gritted teeth. Candour was angry at Michael for trying to manipulate him, for Candour knew who he was and what he did and he was no Son of the Graceus Imbecile. He was the Son of Mars! He was the Son of the God of War and Battle Strategy because Minerva was nothing but spinster! So how dare he!
"Hold your tongue graceus scum," Candour growled in Michael's ear, still not allowing his grip to slack "You respect your Satyrs, don't try and flatter me with your dirty Greek deception! I know who you are Michael Blackbird, I know who you are and what you do and I am no Son of your Mornic War God. I am a Son of Mars. Smarter. Stronger. Better!" Candour spat in Michael's face, not spitting with anger but full on disrespectful spitting "And even if I didn't know! Even if your flattery veil was not seen through by me, I still would have crushed this hand for you being a sycophantic snake! Yes, that's right... Four syllable words. d**k 'ead."
And with a solid crunch, Candour poured his strength around Michael's hand and crushed it. Fingers would splinter under the weight and pressure - Michael's palm would fall limp and Candour's eyes would not leave Michael's for a second. That's what you got for trying to ******** with Candour Meadows...
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 7:17 pm
  Michael grimaced and sucked in a deep breath as Candour broke his hand.he was determined not to show it hurt him to much. He smiled softly at him. he cradled his right hand in his left as his grin turned sinister. "Alright i get it. you are a bit touchy, But Hey i love a gift of a broken hand. ill have to find a way to repay you." he said and tried to move his fingers, with a painful result. he cringed but easily hid the pain with a smooth smile. "i see you around Mr. touchy, and ill bring a gift for you"Michael said and walked off. he let his hand painfully drop to his side as he rolled the smoothed rock around in his pocket. he contemplated leaving it for a bit of fun, but decided against that. that little trick was for later. he headed out of he arena cradling his hand whistling pained as he walked out. he guessed it was time to figure out if he could get this fixed. he decided to head for the dining hall. He'd probably find at least some ice there to help with the swelling. [Exit]
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 9:14 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 11:17 am
  ۞ MOOD ▬ ❝ Calm ❞ ۞ LOCATION ▬ ❝ Camp Gemini Training Grounds ❞ ۞ COMPANY ▬ ❝ Six Faces, Six Names Unknown ❞
Laelia entered the Training grounds. As she did she were able to notice a person cradling a hand and marching off to who knows where, as it were morning and the warmth of the sun warmed the ground with its rays,Laelia felt somewhat lethargic. Thankfully she were not like a vampire completely that sunlight posed a dangerous risk to her health, however she would keep to where there was shade and shadows, watching the others in hesitation debating weather they were friends or foes, maybe they were both? Laelia would saunter towards the weapon rack where her fingers trailed over the variant tools of war, out of breakfast or training,Laelia knew that she could get food later and besides training on a heavy stomach was not a clever thing to do "Looks like i was not the only one who thought about training early..anything interesting happen?"Laelia asked out of curiosity, surely someone would oblige her in conversation?
Her voice was soft. Like a warm hearth inviting and somewhat homely and inviting. Perhaps to some that inviting voice was akin to a spider to a fly, but today she meant no ill will , today was the day she would watch and learn carefully watching from the shadows the strengths and weaknesses and perhaps allow herself a chance in making friends. Rumaging her satchel she would find out a packet of cigarettes, bringing to her lips one of those cancer sticks, Laelia brought to her hands a silver lighter and brought it to the cigarette lighting it with a deviant grin. "Don't mind if i smoke..calms the nerves, it is either this or coffee, since i don't have coffee i have to make do"There was another cheshire grin as she puffed out a haze of smoke and from what appeared to be a hazy mist appeared to be in a totally different place from which she originally stood.
Out Of Clocks → text text text
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 1:00 pm
 It was not her place to stop what happened, besides the nymph wasn’t even sure the bulkier of the two was going to harm the small one. Lavandula merely assumed so as she took into account the nature of both their parents. When it came to the Roman God of War, you didn’t want to end up on his bad side. The same fell true with his children, most of the time at least. Every inch of her body twitched upon hearing the snapping of bones. Her reaction towards the violent act had no limits, her state expanded to her patch of lavenders, their leaves and petals temporarily wrinkling into themselves. A moment of tension hovered in the air as Lavandula awaited a pained scream to pierce the air or a fight to break out. Fortunately neither transpired. Exhaling silently, she and her lavenders with a gentle rustle retuned to a relaxed state as she watched the other demigod leave. The anthusai had every intention of keeping to herself. She had no desire to butt into demigod affairs and attitudes unless they were directly involved with her. As she remained quiet, her only sound having been her rustling of the flowers around her, a scent of cigarette smoke filtered into the trees. It appeared she had not gone far enough into the forest, perhaps moving was not a bad idea. She and her flowers stiffened once more as the death sticks smell raided their space….. humans….. sometimes she wondered if all of them had some sort of death wish. ((Being the only RPC nymph is lonely xP ))
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