|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 8:13 pm
 
Why did it always have to be like this? Why could he never enjoy himself? He heard the voice, a swift turn so that he could curve his body so that the arrow would fly by him. He was not a fan of arrows coming his way, nor where it would've landed. He needed all his features, all of them! He would not be damaged, not today. Today he felt like doing something musical and getting on his way. He cared not for the agenda of others, he just wanted a smoke and some music, it cleared him, fueled him. Maybe he was a kid Apollo kid somewhere, thus the hate for his so called Father. It didn't matter, he would do what he needed to do. Funny that he would be thinking about Apollo, as Atlan was the one to fire an arrow at him. Such a goodie goodie He thought to himself as he watched Atlan. He wanted them to train, a scoff coming from Gerald. "I mean, they could throw all the tantrum they want, I just feel like not doing all too much" Gerald replied to Atlan about the harpies. He cared not for them, even if he was hungry, he was just here for music, the true thing that hungered him. Atlan looked to someone, whom Gerald looked towards. Taking them in, Gerald shrugged and looked to the weapons, which he cared not about at all. "Guess I could use a bow..." He mumbled. He wondered what Marissa thought of him. The way they met was not the best, but he didn't think of her as some floosy. Marissa had whispered to him about sneaking off to actually do some music, so they could entertain Atlan for a bit and then sneak off to the local spot and jam. He smelled something in the air, a scent that caught his full attention. He had not smelt this smell before, something he would keep in his mind. Gerald wondered about Atlan, about why they were friends. He was a senior of the camp, an instructor as well. Had they told him to look over Gerald because he was a problem child? He would let the thought go to the back of his mind, but for now, he would just look to the kids that came to gather with them. Gerald was in his twenties. Was he not a senior as well? Maybe if he applied himself, he would be a counselor as well....Nah. That wasn't him.
"Yo where can I get a pair?" Gerald asked Dante as he came over. He had said some snarky things to Marissa, but she should've been used to it because of how Gerald was. He didn't know to defend her, he didn't think those words were that bad. The smell kept his mind afloat, but then he smelt cancer. Someone was smoking, and near the weapon rack. He wanted the bow, and he wanted a smoke. "Aye, hit me up!" Gerald said as he darted over to the weapon rack, asking for a light. The girl was dark, darker then him in general. He stared at her a bit, just wanting a light but a bit more. A woman was a woman, but he didn't know her age. God the age gap was annoying. The smell was getting too intense though, those flowers drove him insane, and thus he dipped out. "My bad. Something caught me up" He said as he dipped into the forest. He tracked, he moved back and forth after the smell until he saw her. Was it the way the sun shined down upon her, the collections of color? This is a good roll... He thought to himself, afraid she might not be real. "Yo I gotta ask. Is it the flowers or you i'm smelling because I've never wanted to be more in touch with nature" Gerald said as he moved closer to the woman all dressed in purple. He stared at her, entranced as he moved slow. She was alluring, not of this world and something about her screamed his type. God please, don't be young he thought as he looked to her, standing a couple feet from her. "Names Gerald, you?' He asked, going to take her arm and kiss it. He was cheesy, but woman usually loved that, as well as a part of him. Just because he acted out didn't mean he couldn't play gentleman...for the meantime anyway.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 19, 2016 6:53 pm
Luke Jones Son of Thanatos  ______________________________________________________________________________
Luke had gotten up earlier than most, mostly because he wanted to listen to music peacefully and to wonder around camp, Luke was new in the area, didn't know much and didn't know anyone, only tales and stories. Luke had been wondering around for a while now, one headphone plugged into his ear and the other one dangling around his neck, it was much safer this way especially since he was moving around the training area, zooming arrows, swords clashing with swords, the sound of the defenseless dummies being hit over and over again, Luke always wandered if these people could actually handle themselves against moving objects that had the capabilities of hitting back, from what he had seen the past few days only a few seemed to able to hold their own, most were new like himself and inexperienced in the aspects of combat.
"Top of the world, peak of my high
Don't look now I just took flight
Apocalypse now, we own the night
Got two choices surf or fly
Skate or die, sink or swim
Crash or fly, look within
I do not let this bullshit phase me I see lights and I go crazy
Cool is the wind, dark is the sky
Blackbird sings in the dead of the night
Take these broken joints and get high
take your worries kiss 'em goodbye
Tonight has been so amazing
I see you and I go crazy
You put me into this trance
I hear music lets dance"
The lyrics of the song could be heard from the dangling headphone, the beat was chill and kinda slow, it always seemed to calm Luke down from anything. Luke could smell a cigarette, it was a familiar smell to him, the smell of Death. The smell was coming from a very dark looking girl near the weapons racket, someone that Luke did not intend to approach, well not yet at least, Luke could see a small group forming, making his way towards them Luke noticed one of them leaving in such a hurry towards the deeper parts of the woods, Luke was holding himself not to follow him out of pure curiosity. "Mind if I join you guys... I have a feeling I might be going a bit rusty with all the peace around here." Luke would say with a slight smile on my towards the group, mostly at the older looking fellow who seemed to be the one leading the pack of teenagers at the moment, noting that he didn't introduce himself properly he quickly tried to fix that. "The name is Luke, Luke Jones... Nice to meet you all, I guess." Luke wasn't too big or formalities or making friends but he still knew that at times like these it was better to make acquaintances and not enemies but either way he still needed to find out if he would be able to join their morning training session.
______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 20, 2016 2:16 pm
  That was to be expected, them wanting to avoid training. Altan probably would follow them, give them a lesson in music in more ways than one much to their, particularly Gerald's chagrin, but today was not the day. Gerald could dodge the bow all he wanted, but the archer was not even using half of his capabilities on the male. He would know when he was being very much serious. I, Marisa Marques da Silveira Pombal, leave in my possession a collection seashells and conchs. May they serve the camp well." He could not resist the idea of teasing the girl as Dante insisted she began writing a Will. She did not want to fight. Neither did everyone else, but they had to start somewhere, right? "Just pick something you think you're good at and we will begin."Was Gerald being serious about picking a bow? He was just asking for Altan to pwn him all across the training ground. The son of Hades may had very well been formidable in music -he was lying out his teeth about that so much that he could feel a migraine stirring- but dealing with a child of Apollo against a bow, that was just pointless. Would Altan even humor this for a second? He suppose there was no other choice. The sound of bones breaking filled the air and soon, the troublesome child of Eris was scurrying out the forest from where Candour trailed away and onward to the Big House where the infirmary lay. The male took a second to pause as he looked at Marisa, Gerald and Dante, then to Nigel and his automaton, onward to some figures beginning to fill the area, and then back to the first people he set his gaze on. He scratched the back of his head in a nervous matter as the silence filled the air because it was in his conscience to immediately run to the wounded male and see what happened, but Candour was pissed and he was not tredding into those waters, even though he was fairly certain the Mars demigod would know he came with good intentions and not ill will. The last thing Candour probably would have wanted to see was a bow though, so he focused his attention back on to those he was around. "Not at all" he said to Luke particularly, though he brought an arm around Dante's shoulder to reel him in a bit as to create an invisible line amongst them. "The more the merrier. I was thinking there was enough of us, Veteran and rookies, to have a small group session in case you're wondering what's interesting, oh fair maiden of the cigarettes."A couple of thoughts ran through his mind, but some had to be excluded. He knew something was going to occur and by gut feeling, maybe it was the familiar celebratory contest. If it was, he was not going to give them a crash course to the pain that would begin for the night, rather he would do something else. Altan saw no differences between the Roman and Greek camps as he believed they were all struggling to survive together, so perhaps Nigel would have no qualms in wanting to play the game. He chuckled. "You guys have been here for a bit to get some of the things we face. I think it would be great for us to play a little game of Assault."He pointed a bit further down in the forest, where a fort lay on a hill and the other near the river banks. Assault was simple. Like most sides, one team had to have a victor and the other had to have a loser. The game dealt with exposing the other team's vantage points, one team being those who assaulted the place and the other being those who would defend their fort. If the Attackers claimed the object in the enemy's fort, the opposing side lost and would have to retreat to the other base and do the same thing over again. He explained the rules to them all. "Normally you wouldn't have to be pitted against Veterans a lot, but it's tradition to raise the rookies up like this, so I think just one match should do. Any objections?"Of course there would be, but Altan was having none of it. It would be great for them all to let loose a bit. "Are you in, Nigel?"OOC: I think Draga or Rebel is next. Due some incidents Draga has undergone, Rebel you can post in advance and everyone can go after. It's up to you guysz
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Feb 26, 2016 2:53 pm
 
As Herme's child spoke Marisa couldn't help but smile a bit sheepishly with his remarks. A will huh? Although a somewhat harsh (but truthful) statement it was still considerably funny in a smart alec sort of way. Before the girl could retaliate with a hopeful witty comment of her own, Geral followed by Atlan beat her to the punch. Gerald wondered off though to bother girls... Like usually leaving her to fend for herself. A blush tainted her cheeks as a will was made for her. Sadly her brain wasn't working fast enough to think of Atlan's will so she just let her embarrassment occur with a playful shrug ofbher shoulders. "Guilty," Marisa spoke up with a slight extension of her tongue. "If you don't have one written yet could I have your shoes?" This was of course meant to Herme's child with a wink yet she was being quite serious. Probably not a good idea to give a clutz like her winged shoes though.
Atlan being the responsible one gave out instructions of which Marisa wasn't sure she understood it all. Inching near Hermes child she smiled "Names Marisa but Atlan kinda gave that away. Yours? And can you translate?"
Someone else joined in and she would introduce herself when it came her turn to do so for she would let Atlan handle Luke.
((Post is crap. I apologize if i missed details but i only worried avout responding to things directly invovling marisa. On my phone just wanted to help things get moving along))
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 27, 2016 10:09 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 6:43 pm
Nigel Robertson Son of Vulcan, Legacy of Pluto  Companion: Franklin: Tortuga Mk1
The roaring flame was near him, yet Nigel took a bit of time to look at the gathering of Greek Demigods again. A couple of new ones joined them and Atlan began explaining the rules for a battle scenario. Although Nigel did not enjy fighting, leaving that to Franklin, Nigel did learn some fighting skills and is extremely good at controlling his power of pyrokinesis, a rare gift from his father, whether his children were Greek or Roman. So he took this as another chance to train, to practice his skills, which wuld be much more fun than waving his automaton's flamethrower in the air.
"Me?" Nigel said at first, holding up a hand to order Franklin to put the fire out, which Franklin did without hesitation. The large robot retracted his grounding spikes and began walking with Nigel over towards the gathering, hands behind his back as he looked at the Greek Demigods with inquisitiveness, "You want me to join your war game?"
"I believe the one known as Atlan did indeed ask if you were to join," Franklin answered, "If I may say my thoughts on the subject, we should take his offer. It would prove valuable for our future endeavors as Legionnaires."
Nigel sighed. Franklin was right, it would prove useful to train with others besides the 4th Cohort. They were like family to him, but the Greek Demigods were in the same situation as he was, and who knows if they will eventually have to fight together on a real battlefield. It would be wise for him to at least understand the other campers so he can work effectively with them in the future. This decision could prove to be the key to great victories in the future, or complete disaster for everyone.
"I will join," Nigel answered with a smile, "Or as I should say myself and Franklin here are in. When will we start? How much time do we have to prepare? Are we allowed to bring any weapons we possess?" he continued. He wanted to now if he had time to return to the 4th Cohort barracks and install on Franklin one of the attachments he had developed for scenarios such as this, or if he will be forced to use what was already equipped? Either scenario, he had plans upon plans for what he can do, for every situation he can think of. But he would prefer to have Franklin equipped with either his Siege equipment or his Assault Equipment. As of right now, he had nothing to go on in order to formulate a plan.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 11:40 pm
 Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged. Amarantha walked into the training grounds that the fourth cohort haunted. She was silent, as usual, as she observed what was going on. It seemed like someone had incited Candour's rage, though it seemed as if that person was actually gone now. She noticed Nigel with his Tortuga. She felt the most comfortable with Candour and Nigel, though Nigel was talking to one of the Greek Demigods about training together. She wasn't sure how Candour would react, but she herself could see the wisdom in trianing with someone other than those they were most familiar with. She might not have been a daughter of Mars, but she had learned a thing or two from Candour and Nigel. She could tell that he was furious, but then; when wasn't the son of Mars; the man she called both Leader and Brother, furious? She shook her head, her long white-blonde hair flying around her in a curtain, before she walked over to Candour on silent feet. Once she was mere feet from him, she walked around him so that he would see who she was and not attack. He was a Son of Mars through and through, a warrior born and bred, he would attack any at his back if he didn't know their identity, and she couldn't blame his for that, it was instinct, and survival. Amarantha gave him a small smile and bobbed her head in greeting to him, before she began to sign to him. 'Morning, Brother. What has upset you this early into the day?'
Normally she would actually speak to Candour, though no one else in the entirety of either Camp Jupiter or Camp Half-Blood knew this; not even Nigel knew that she actually had a voice. But there were too many other people around, and she hated to use her voice in front of anyone but Candour, so, she resorted to ASL. She looked around as she waited for a reply, and took in the sight of both Greek and Roman DemiGods intermingling. She had nothing against the Greeks, personally, she just preferred her Roman brethren, Amarantha found herself in a unique position at camp, seeing as she was a Daughter of Nemesis, the only Goddess that was recognized as both Greek and Roman; since Revenge and Just Retribution were universal things. So, she could have just as easily been put into Camp Half-Blood when she had arrived back when she was a mere ten years old. She was happy in the Roman Camp though, and had found family in the Fourth Cohort. If you p***k us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 1:45 pm
  Watching the Son of Eris leave Candour said nothing. There was nothing more to actually say on the matter and now, hopefully, Michael Blackblood would now understand Candour's position on tricks, flattery and deception. They were such Graceus ways and nothing annoyed Candour more than false loyalty. But that was the past, with Michael now gone to fix up what remained of his hand, Candour sat back down on the tree stump he had been quietly stewing at before the Son of Eris' arrival: only this time he sat down and contemplated his hand. Not the Fauns that had vexed him so.
Looking at his palms, there were no giveaways that they committed any sort of barbarity the likes of which Candour had just done. They weren't even red from the pressure or sore, they just were as they always had been - scarred and worn from fighting. Why was Candour always fighting? Why was he never at peace like the rest of the Demigods (especially those Lazy Greeks) seemed to be? Why couldn't he have just had a normal time? Why was he even a Demigod!?
More and more questions wove their way into his head and began to rile him once again. What was he ever going to do, how was he ever going to cope if all of this fell down around him tomorrow and he needed to disappear into the normal world? The answer was quick and simple, the tactician in Candour booming out in his mind with a cold and harsh observation: it would not matter, for if Camp Gemini falls. So does the normal world. Candour's shoulders sunk a little bit, as if a weight had been lifted at the realization and then he went back to contemplating his hand. He opened and closed it continuously, watching the scars across his fingers stretch and shrink but there was still no sign that he had almost crippled a man...
Candour's relationship with Amarantha was unique. The two of them pretty much only "talked" to one and other, like natural talking, talking between kids that were their age kind of talking and this went double for "Ama" who actually rendered her self mute amongst others. However, there was something else between Candour and Amarantha that Candour had told nobody about - not even her. What was that? Well, it was the fact that no matter where Amarantha was, Candour always knew she was there. She couldn't sneak up on him. She couldn't hide herself from him. Candour and her were linked somehow that wasn't romantic or anything like that and it wasn't the same type of bond that linked them as "Wolves". No, this was something darker and more grim.
The thing that highlighted Amarantha's presence to him was a feeling, a feeling that covered his entire body that did not come from the inside. it wasn't like intuition, or some sort of soul bound, it was the fact that the scars all over his body quivered whenever she was near. He felt his whole body tingle as the silver marks and red streaks on his form were drawn to Aramantha's presence. As a faughter of Nemesis, it was probably her Mother wanting to bring balance to the world or better yet, Nemesis trying to remind Candour that he got "less than he deserved". He had done some terrible things. He had almost been driven feral but ever since Camp Jupiter, the Legion... Frank... He had been trying to put that behind him. He'd been trying to be better.
The Fauns and Michael Blackblood only seemed to serve as reminders to how much he was failing to do so.
Aramantha's presence did bring some semblance of a smile to Candour's face though. He continued to stare at his hand until she was in front of him and signing; there were too many people near by and he gave her an understanding look as if to say "It's fine. Don't worry. You be you and no one else" but that did not answer Aramantha's question. It only gave her approval for something in which she did not seek nor need it. So, clapping his hands down on his knees with a sigh he set about replying. His bare, scarred body rippled in the forest light - highlighting years of gore.
"Fauns tried to come near me and... I lost it. I'm sorry but I hate them Ama, you know I do. One of... Them killed Frank and I'm supposed to sit around whilst bunches of them pretend to guard me and a Graceus tries to whisper false admiration in my ear!?" Candour looked up at Amarantha and the semblance of a smile turned into a grin, a sadistic and eager grin. "Do not worry though, Michael Blackblood has learned that Wolves may bite."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bear Necessity Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 2:56 pm
Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged. Amarantha made a face and nodded as she was told what had happened. Fauns. Even she didn't like fauns all that much, especially since Candour had lost his brother to one. Sure, it hadn't been her brother, but she had known Frank, and known of him, enough to know that he was someone precious to Candour. As such, she felt his thirst for revenge practically triple after Frank's untimely death. She shook her head once more and signed to Candour, 'Can't they just leave you alone? How stupid are they to attempt to pick a fight with you, the Son of Mars, and the leader of the Fourth Cohort. You are not one to be trifled with.' Her hands flew with her "words" but they were mere fact to her, not flattery or anything of the sort. Amarantha, for all that she rarely spoke, spoke nothing but truth. After all, what use did a self imposed mute have for lies and veiled truths? Especially since she was a Daughter of Nemesis, a Goddess known for her violent reaction to being lied to.
Amarantha sighed and looked at Candour. She hated that all that seemed to come for him was suffering. It wasn't right, nor was it fair to the scarred Son of Mars. Her mother might have been best known as the Goddess of Revenge, but she was also the Goddess of balance, and often punished those who had nothing but good luck, and would grant boons to those who had nothing but bad luck. She bit her lip and gave a slight motion with her hands. She wanted to better help the man she called brother, and knew that she could, if only slightly, if he would allow her, but would he take her offer as pity, or the genuine need to ease his suffering at least a little? In truth, she knew she had skill, and power, at her disposal; all Demigods did and she was no different, but she was never sure if her skills or powers would be welcomed. 'I-' She hesitated and bit her lip as she shuffled her feet, unsure if she should offer at all.
If you p***k us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 3:37 pm
The two of them would laugh at that. Too bad that didn't happy anymore though. As good as Ama was for Candour, she couldn't replace Frank and she didn't even attempt to. Ama was probably the best ally that Candour had for his social problems and issues. It was also helpful that her presence kept people away from him, it wasn't wise for anyone to go near the children of the War God and the God of Retribution when they were conversing. Especially a Nemesis Child who did not speak, for then she was guarded. She was unknown. To all except Candour for some reason.
Thinking about it like that made Candour realize the small honour he had been afforded.
He looked at her as she signed though, finally coming out of himself and his problems to laugh at her statement. It was true, why would they keep picking fights with him? Even their most treasured veteran Clarisse had wanted a piece of Candour when they first met... She too was shown that Candour was not to be trifled with. "I honestly don't know Ama. I really don't know. I mean, Jesus H ********, I just broke that bloke's 'and for being a snake... Why fight me? Meh. Who gives a toss, eh? What's goin' t' happen? They'll send ol' Horse-Arse to come give me a rap on the knuckles and the Praetors will come talk to me and say they'll help out... It's always the same." Candour was looking at the floor as he said this but as Amarantha sighed, he raised his head and watched her step towards him and speak. She bit her lip and he stood up and held her, trying to help her feel more comfortable, he squeezed her like a brother did his sister (but making sure not to hurt her like he could) and backed away smiling.
"Amarantha, thank you. I don't deserve you, you know that right?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bear Necessity Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 4:13 pm
Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged. Amarantha blinked at him, clearly confused about what he meant when he said that he didn't deserve her. She shook her head and just let him hug her. It was something they both needed really, and she knew it. She hadn't had many hugs from anyone other than Sophia, as a child, and after learning who her mother was no one wanted to go near her; because she was the daughter of Revenge. And her appearance, that of being albino without the red eyes, and being freakishly silent, everyone feared her. And Candour had been through atrocities that she didn't want to even imagine.
Amarantha poked him slightly in the ribs, uncaring that he was shirtless and sweaty from his usual training, she was used to seeing her brother like this, then signed,'What in the name of all that is sacred are you talking about? Don't deserve me? I think you've been in the sun too long without breakfast, Brother.' Okay, so there was no actual blood relation between them, but as far as she was concerned, he was her brother in all the ways that mattered. She knew, if fights or war broke out, he would have her back, just as she would have his and Nigel's. She gave him another poke, but it was playful, like a little sister teasing her older brother, 'I've done nothing to impress you. I'm nothing special, just the average Demigod, I'm not even able to hold my own against you in a duel yet you say you don't deserve me?' Amarantha shook her head in disbelief, but let him have his illusions. He saved her from feeling the loneliness she felt after losing her father and Sophia. He saved her from her own feelings of inadequacy nearly everyday, just by treating her like she somehow mattered. She would let him think what he wanted; so long as he let her remain at his back to assist him.
If you p***k us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 4:36 pm
He'd failed in his duty to protect her by falling asleep last night.
Yet, Ama's presence here in the clearing put him in a sort of strange duality. That anger he felt towards himself and finding the blanket draped over him was still there and then things kept piling up on top of it but then there was Amarantha; Amarantha signing great things to him and about him that Candour just couldn't believe. But he could see it in her eyes that she did believe and he wasn't about to feel bad in front of her. He couldn't upset her or make her feel bad.
And, it was in that moment - in that duality, that Candour did something beautiful and amazing:
It wasn't perfect. It was clumsy and heavy handed, nowhere near as dainty and beautiful as Ama's but Candour began signing to her. He had picked up a lot watching her, translating for her at points and now (for the first time) Candour wanted to show off a talent that Ama probably had no idea he had. A talent that was gained by spending a great amount of time with her. A talent that showed her that everything would be alright. That Candour would always keep her safe.
'Whilst the bones I break will eventually heal and the wars I rage against the world will eventually end.
Even the fire in my soul will one day burn itself out. Consume itself.
It is people like you, Amarantha, my sister and friend that will be remembered forever.
It may not be for heroics. Or for any infamy on your part.
But for your heart.
But for your kindness.
You will be a greater hero than all of us and Immortal in your own right.'
Candour stopped, blinking for a second as he finished. He looked at his hands and opened and closed his fingers around his palm. He found it hard to believe that something so beautiful could be said by these... These foul hands.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bear Necessity Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Feb 29, 2016 5:07 pm
Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged. Amarantha felt tears gather in her eyes when she saw Candour haltingly sign the most beautiful thing he could have ever chosen to share with her. She gave him a watery smile and then hugged Candour, something only she dared to do, though she never understood why. Sure, Candour had a lot of rage, but there was love in his heart as well, for one could not have rage at injustices without having someone they loved being wronged in the first place. She was kind of glad, on a selfish level, that no one knew this though, after all, it meant she got to keep her big brother's hugs all to herself for a little longer. Candour was her Pack Alpha, her leader, her protector, and the only one she never felt like she had to hide herself from. He allowed her to be herself, never pushed her to 'open up' around others, and never faulted her for her self-imposed muteness. Candour made her feel normal, for the first time in a very long time. And the biggest bonus? He didn't make her feel like a freak, and he wasn't scared of her, or who her mother was. Sure, Nigel was the same, and was one of her Pack, and she loved the younger male like another brother, but she had had more time with Candour, had a longer history.
'Thank you. Thank you so much Candour. You didn't have to, yet you've taught yourself ASL, for me. I know you hate showing you care, because you fear someone using that love and care against you, so you doing this..' She paused, trying to collect herself and her thoguhts, then continued, 'I will cherish this, always, Brother. Thank you.' Honestly, what else could she say? The fact that he obviously thought so highly of her as a person, and cared for her as a sister was amazing. For him to go out of his way and use her preferred means of communication, knowing her hearing was perfect? It meant a lot, so much so that her words, inadequate on a good day, were pathetic and worthless in comparison.
If you p***k us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 01, 2016 12:17 pm
 The Son of Mars noticed not her presence and she was perfectly fine with things remaining the way they were. What he did next mattered not to her and she paid only enough attention to realize he eventually was met with a fellow demigod somewhere out of her sight. A silent sigh escaped her lips as her eyelids covered her eyes. Peace at least. No one was near anymore. Alas, her enjoyment was short lived as careless footsteps blindly stomped through the forest. She heard him coming long before he broke through the trees before her. Violet eyes gazed at the male showing little to no emotion. If he tried to read what she was thinking it would be impossible. Lavandula was far from an open book. Only those she trusted enough would even truly come to understand what went on in her mind and learn how she portrayed certain emotions. Such people were extremely rare to come by. His words came and went like the wind. He was not the first nor would he be the last to attempt flirtatious behavior with her. A Son of Hades wishing to be one with nature? What a joke. The only thing he was probably capable of would be setting it on fire. Lavandula found it hard to trust those with any form of fire abilities. Fire was wild, hard to control in the wrong hands. Very few people have ever shown to be worthy of such a power, at least in her eyes. Emotionless eyes were the only response he’d get from her. The same went for his “gentleman’s approach”. Now on her feet, the nymph allowed him to take her hand, temporarily tainting it with the press of his impure mouth onto her skin. An action he was soon to regret. Tempering with her aura through the release of oils from her skin, Gerald would be highly vulnerable during the kiss. He intentionally brought himself close to her. The effects would travel through touch, via his lips, as well as through the air as he sniffed her aura. It was good he found it enticing. Now Lavandula wasn’t going to do much to him, just a little lesson. At least she hoped so for some people just never learned. Within seconds he would find a sensation of tiny pricks all over his body and soon after lose all feeling over his body. Consequently, he would find himself unable to stand as well. This wasn’t a result from poison, well perhaps it could be considered one. Instead of death it would cause a form of paralysis due to relaxation of the muscles. As for his face? That was a different thing all together. He wouldn’t feel it, but anyone who would look at him would find it blown up like a balloon, distorted and disfigured in more ways than one. She wasn’t finished with him just yet. He may as well serve as an example for those to learn not to disturb her. After all, very few of the demigods here are aware of her existence yet. From the trees vines crawled down wrapping around the males ankles, lifting him up until he was dangling four feet off the ground. “Save it for someone who is interested.” For the first time in days she spoke. OOC: Got permission to do what I did from Genji.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
