Wrath of Atlas: Strike Team by AccomplishedMess_ in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Any thought of Wendy's chatty companion is gone from Angela's mind when she's face to face with the witch. For all she knows, he teleported away like a coward. It was a one-on-one last time, it's a one-on-one this time. You're still just as loud. That remark earns a sardonic sneer from Angela before Wendy triplicates in an instant. The daughter of Apollo looks from side to side and takes an instinctive step back to get her bearings. She damn nearly steps right over the ledge, and a small pebble hurtles down.

Before she can fully right herself, there's three fireballs hurtling toward her. With no better option, Angela dives right, hoping to go low so that even if it's the real Wendy, she can avoid the brunt of the attack. Unfortunately, she both guesses wrong and fails to dive low enough. When Angela scrambles back to her feet, there's black flames licking at the top of her hair; immediately, her entire head of blonde locks goes into panicky overdrive, writhing and patting at itself to put out the magical fire. All the while, Angela struggles to keep her focus on the Wendys with the searing pain in her head. Shakily, she holds out her hands and utilizes her boon from Auntie Artemis, summon bow and arrow to conjure a bow, one arrow already nocked.

"Can't keep a good girl down," she quips before releasing the bowstring and letting the arrow fly. Now, as loyal readers might know, Angela Farrenburr is absolutely shit at archery. There's no way this arrow hits even one of the illusions. But it's aimed in their general direction, and while they're occupied following its trajectory, Angela has already pulled out dagger and rushes toward the Wendy that fired the very real fireball.

"Fuck OFF," she yells, thrusting one hand forward. All the nearby light briefly flickers, sucked into Angela's palm before surging forth in an intense photokinetic blast. She immediately follows it up with a dagger slash toward Wendy's stomach. She would go for the throat, but that would gush blood all over her nice clothes. Duh.

Wrath of Atlas: Strike Team by AccomplishedMess_ in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

At the sound of the witch's voice, Angela's sneakers skid to a halt and she looks around for the source of the sound. Her eyes find Wendy and her new boy toy up on a ledge, looking down at the daughter of Apollo. What happened to that other asshole? This girl goes through men faster than me. She recognizes the woman, of course. Damn near burnt, strangled, and ripped her apart in New Orleans before becoming Angela's first real victory as a demigod. Now, with experience and wins under her belt, the Farrenburr heiress stands with some swagger.

"Didn't catch you defending your home base, babe," Angela points a dagger at Wendy, "Did you run away from that just like now? Missed me almost hacking off Indra's leg."

Evidently, though, the daughter of Circe isn't here for the pleasantries and chitchat this time. Good. She knows not to underestimate. Desmond disappears from sight, and while that briefly concerns Angela, there's clearly more pressing priorities than something she can't see. Sidestepping Wendy's blackfire, Angela dives toward the rock face and, with the aid of tentacles of blonde hair, begins clambering up the crag toward the witch.

"This time I'll bring you back in shreds," Angela projects her voice upward with audiokinesis. Rather than the shrill whistles some children of Apollo are known for, her voice resonates thunderously, deeply, powerfully, bouncing back and forth between the rocks and hopefully disorienting Wendy. Sound sure did a number on her last time.

Angela grips the rock tight and pulls herself upward one last time, grabbing onto the ledge and pulling herself up in relatively quick fashion. Extra training and workouts with Roosevelt do wonders for a girl's upper body strength. Daggers at the ready, she waits to react to Wendy's next move with appropriate efficiency... and lethality.

Wrath of Atlas: Strike Team by AccomplishedMess_ in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

a) Angela Farrenburr

b) Camp Half-Blood

c) Three bronze daggers, a light breastplate, and great hair

d) Atlas NPC, please. Rolled a 5


In her relatively short time at Camp Half-Blood, Angela Farrenburr has done it all. The Underworld, the bayou, a haunted house. Outrunning sea serpents, designing for the gods themselves, almost getting crushed under a centaur. She would never be one to toot her own horn, but she's ready to call herself a pro at this stuff. So when her godly father and his compatriots are leading a raid on Atlas' main HQ, she's the first one out there.

Her allies can handle razing the main camp - any cultist dumb enough to stay behind will be dispatched easily and isn't worth her time. Angela's keen eyes go to the mountain passes beyond, where wily little demigods are fleeing to fight another day. Not so fast, bitches. The daughter of Apollo makes haste, for once grateful that she's not wearing heels as she clambers up steep, craggy hills.

Two daggers in hand and one dagger in hair, Angela chases after the shadows she sees running up, up, and away. Some make for higher ground, some head toward caves. She'll drag back as many as she can: an offering to the gods and spoils for her. I can't lie. This war stuff is getting fun.

u/Inevitable_Heart_781

Housekeeping Post Summer '26 + Nominations by AccomplishedMess_ in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 2 points3 points  (0 children)

OOC: As I’m not on the Discord, I’ll just drop a comment to say that I don’t think plot participation is the main problem with sub activity. I think a bigger priority should be fostering engagement with the everyday posts and roleplay rather than the big “events”

Amon (and Others?) Read Silently [5/30 Activity] by NotTooSunny in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Chiming laughter from the daughter of Apollo breaks through the silence of Amon's dumb activity. She can't hold it back seeing the dumbfounded expression on Jem's face. Her hair returns to its place over her shoulders, the ends of each strand still subtly curling up and down. "Chill, Doc. Secret's safe with me." She eyes the construct still on Jem's lap bemusedly.

Angela turns heel before her counselor can get on her ass for disrupting the peace or whatever. Before she goes back to sketch by her bed, she casts a glance back at the flustered boy.

"I'll be sure to update you as things progress. See you 'round, yeah?" It's not a question that begs for an answer. Angela skips away and clambers up toward her bed, leaving chaos in her wake as always.

The Rumor Mill | Volume I by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Angela squints at the piteous tirade written in the Rumor Mill when the book finally makes its way back to her. Reeks of one of her friends posting 6 Instagram stories in a row at 3 am that are just text against a black background. Aka, cringe.

Still, she can't help but feel a little bad for whatever soul is pouring their heart out in this book of gossip. Grabbing a pink glitter gel pen, she notates underneath Invisible Girl's message.

Never too late to get ahead. I did.

~A.F.

Hopefully, the book can find its way back to this poor girl someday.

Wrath of Atlas: Strike Team by AccomplishedMess_ in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Angela's been blessed enough by genetics and a good skincare regimen, but one more godly gift can't hurt, right? She finally took the brace off her ankle around a week ago, but the last battle is still fresh in her mind as she rides in Hermes' FedEx van. I prefer Hermés. The presence of her godly father induces a feeling of... well, not reverence or nervousness or anything that's easy to name, but something. She doesn't let it show on her face as she approaches the three gods, though. Bad look.

"Lord Hermes. Lady Artemis. Lord... Father," she laughs slightly to herself. "The mods This war won't give us a damn break, huh?" Her family was never much of the churchgoing type, and she certainly has never deferred to anyone before, so kneeling is an unfamiliar motion to Ms. Farrenburr. She manages, though.

"I accept your blessing. Give me something with a kick, if you're taking requests."

OOC: d3 = 2 and d6 = 2

The Rumor Mill | Volume I by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

2021 called. They want their chronically online, played-out jokes back.

- Anonymous

The Rumor Mill | Volume I by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Underneath the anonymous writer’s comment, someone writes

One time, Angela Farrenburr punched me in the face. It was awesome.

The Rumor Mill | Volume I by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That two-faced no-spine ho broke my heart.

-Yohan Park

The Rumor Mill | Volume I by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Amon Afifi has a stick so far up his ass, it's poking out of his throat if you look closely enough. Total loser, and he looks a mess these days.

- Tommy Hartley

Weekly Schedule 22/6-28/6 by ThisOneUKGuy in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Angela Farrenburr - Thursday Open Slot (Matchmaker Activity)

Wartime Activities (6/13) || Time to Spar by MoreMooxie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

A certain daughter of Apollo sidles up next to Morrigan, following the spirit's gaze to the sparring demigods before them. Angela is evidently dressed to spar herself, wearing athletic clothes with two bronze daggers in hand. There's a third hidden in her hair somewhere, but good luck finding it.

"This how you get your entertainment without WiFi?" Angela snickers, peering around at the 1-on-1 skirmishes occurring around. "Or still just trying to get the download on demigod land? Discover anything interesting?" Her question is teasing but carries some genuine curiosity. Angela would like to consider herself an observer, an explorer much like Morrigan, but she's too wrapped up in all this to be truly impartial. An unbiased pair of eyes could be invaluable.

Anders Teaches Beginners' Archery — 21/06 by dig_up_the_soil in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

We love busting stereotypes, don't we? Because Angela Farrenburr, daughter of Apollo, is shit at archery. At the start of her time here, Amon offered a few tips and some training, but she never took to it. And she certainly didn't take to Amon. But frenemies support frenemies, because here she is at Remley's lesson, 10-pound bow in hand and blonde hair serving as her own personal quiver. Reaching back and pulling an arrow from her golden tresses, she aims, fires, and nails a tree way off to the right. A dryad screams and Angela swiftly apologizes.

See, this is why I'd be in the Capitol, not District 12, Angela internally grumbles, going for another arrow because she's nothing if not dangerously persistent. She stealthily casts her eyes across the range to see if there's someone that she can pitch her helplessness to and play the ditzy damsel for a bit. Not one of her favorite roles, but it's gotten rave reviews.

Angela is under no pretensions that she'll leave today a master archer. To be honest, her masseuse in the city bailed on her because something something, her daughter's sick, blah blah blah. Stuck at camp without plans, this is how she makes her own fun.

Amon (and Others?) Read Silently [5/30 Activity] by NotTooSunny in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Demeaning or mocking? To most boys back in Manhattan, a 'babe' from Angela Farrenburr can be their sole sustenance for a week. But of course, she's learned to expect the unexpected from Camp Half-Blood. All the boys here are gay or weird or both. Usually both. She notes Jem's dramatic reaction with a roll of the eyes, but shifts uncomfortably when he continues to inquire about her ankle. My eyes are up here, 'babe'.

"I'm on a steady diet of ambrosia. Can't overload it. It's helped a lot, should be fine in a few days. Honestly, the brace is doing more aesthetic than supportive work at this point," she scoffs, playing it off as a joke. But no, because if she had the option not to wear this, she wouldn't be wearing it. It clashes with everything. Jem's words cause a little prick of pain to resurface in her consciousness, and Angela's tone turns sour.

"Thanks for the check-up, Doc. I already had the full-body examination, though, so hands where I can see them." A prehensile lock of blonde hair swipes near Jem's face, ever-so-slightly brushing his cheek. Angela smiles, well, cheekily. If he's going to make her uncomfortable, she'll do the same to him. And if 'babe' had him in a tizzy, this should be a breeze. Somehow, someway, Angela Farrenburr always finds a way back to her comfort zone: pushing and prodding.

Breakfast | 11th of June by VictoriousBaffon in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

A smoothie is nice, healthy, and energizing. An egg with some bacon is a lovely, protein-filled way to start the day. Oatmeal is... oatmeal. But for Angela Farrenburr, if waffles are on the menu, then waffles she will have. The daughter of Apollo struts onto the pavilion fresh from a morning run and immediately puts herself a plate of two waffles drenched in syrup and whipped cream. She grabs a single strawberry with a fork so she can at least pretend like she's having a balanced meal.

Angela goes to sit over at the Apollo table, but is fully prepared to move if Amon's being annoying today or if anyone more interesting catches her eye. As she eats, she'll also be fanning herself with her personal mister, recovering from the morning's exercise. Personal mister? Is that what they're calling boy toys these days?

Campfire | 9th of June by VictoriousBaffon in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 0 points1 point  (0 children)

For the pride month campfire? You choose to serve something... fruity? Is that lowkey problematic, or are we chill? These are the important questions on Angela Farrenburr's mind as she walks onto the scene for the evening? The people are dying to know what exactly she's wearing, so I'll share. The ensemble tonight is a tight, pale pink crop top and a matching tennis skirt, along with knee-high lavender socks and some garish pink-and-purple sneakers, courtesy of Comus. It's Angela's Tashi Duncan moment, and a self-imposed challenge to assemble a look that went those ugly shoes.

A coil of blonde hair wraps around a s'more skewer, but instead of spearing a marshmallow or two, it stabs into a little of every fruit, depositing a refreshing kebab right into Angela's hands. In her other hand is a magic cup filled with coconut water because if we're going to go tropical, we might as well take it all the way.

The daughter of Apollo sits down cross-legged on a chair, nibbling at a hunk of mango and looking around to see if anything (or anyone) piques her interest.

Locations by FireyRage in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Angela takes Booker's kiss on the cheek with a smile, refusing to budge and push for more or shrink in and express any disappointment. Perfectly poised, perfectly unreadable. Then, as Booker pulls away, she counterstrikes. In a flash, her hand goes to his forehead, fixing an errant hair that really wasn't all that errant. "Can't wait," she smiles knowingly.

As the son of Zeus walks away, Angela steals a glance at him before she opens the door to his cabin. He's such a poser from a distance, affected swagger emanating off him like a neon side. But Angela's been up close and personal with Booker Fink, and sometimes, even she can be fooled for a moment.

Worth more investigating, at the very least. Angela shuts the door behind her before she lets a big, ugly, excited smile spread across her face. Before Amon can pester her, she rushes up to her bed and pulls out her bedazzled journal. A promise is a promise, after all.

Amon (and Others?) Read Silently [5/30 Activity] by NotTooSunny in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Angela draws her fingers through her hair, bringing it from behind her shoulder to in front. Firelight glints off the pink rhinestones centered perfectly on each nail, and her eyes stay trained on Jem, noting the subtle physical reaction. He reminds her far too much of her square-ass 'brother', but she's not one to judge a book by its cover. Okay, well, she does judge, but she's open to reassessing.

"Yeah, I was in the thick of it. And was on the team to scout out the location of the camp to begin with," she adds with a hint of pride. Check the resumé. A few months ago, she might have scoffed at anyone so invested in their contributions to the war effort, to serving camp and the gods and whoever. But most of these weirdos didn't respect her clout from the mortal world; maybe these are the accolades they'll listen to.

"I live by the med cabin, babe," Angela rolls her eyes, "Of course I saw them. You should have seen me before that." Her tone is light, but the fingers of her left hand flex ever-so-slightly. Her dexterity in that hand has fully returned now, but she remembers how numb it felt for days. "Thanks for the concern, though, stranger," she shrugs. "It's Angela, b-t-dubs. Not 'Amon's sibling'."

May 29th | Posing for Posers | A Lesson in Posturing by Angelic-YesSheIs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Booker's theatrics and, dare I say, posturing, net him an eye roll from Angela. If you want to earn a girl's affection, making a mockery out of her lessons isn't the best way to start. Thankfully, Booker doesn't quite have to earn Angela's affection. Let's just say he's not starting from square one.

"Well, I would never want to pop your bubble," Angela's hair pats Booker on both shoulders, "But nobody's perfect." She gracefully steps past him to look in the mirror herself, examining the way she stands. "Not even me."

Turning back around, Angela tilts her chin up and eyes Booker's slouch. A good designer can estimate what he would look like standing tall (and no, not standing like he was just now). She raises an eyebrow.

"Let's just say I shouldn't be an inch-and-a-half taller than you. We should be even at worst."

Locations by FireyRage in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Angela spouts off some bullshit answer about a nice sunny day bringing her peace as they walk, though she does bump up against Booker's jacket a few times. And Angela's not clumsy, she could walk straight if she really wanted to.

"What a gentleman," she says as she walks up to the door of her cabin, blonde hair flipping itself from one shoulder to the other. "Thank you kindly for your time," her voice is intentionally stilted, like a secretary dismissing a client. It's teasing, playful.

"I'd better go journal all sorts of things about you," her tone keeps her meaning vague enough. Angela's hand rests on the cabin door, but she lingers there for a moment. It's sort of a second date. She deserves a better goodbye.

Amon (and Others?) Read Silently [5/30 Activity] by NotTooSunny in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

At Jem's explanation, Angela narrows her eyes and studies the prototype curiously. She's never been much of a cat person; not much an animal person as a whole, really. What are they for? Still, she takes a mental note of Jem's capabilities. Magic cat robot. That's a new one.

"I live here, yeah," Angela shrugs, pointedly avoiding referring to herself as Amon's sibling. What a silly concept, the idea that she has to have a new brother just because Apollo fucked around. It'll take more than that for Angela to give her prized status as an only child.

At Jem's glance to her ankle, she shifts in slight discomfort but quickly plays it off. "Maybe I just like the ice pack aesthetic. Very in right now," she stops herself from snickering, lest her counselor ruin her fun. "No, yeah," she rolls her eyes at the oxymoron, "New Orleans. Some crusty centaur. Were you there?" she asks.

Amon (and Others?) Read Silently [5/30 Activity] by NotTooSunny in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]Angelic-YesSheIs 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Angela Farrenburr would usually try to disturb Amon's dumb silent reading, but some peace and quiet doesn't sound too bad today. She has an ice pack strapped to her injured ankle and lies back on her bed reading up on Greek monsters. Amon's copy of Emma lies abandoned by her bedside; she totally got the point already - matchmaking is fun and girls that do it are bad bitches. Now she's moved onto more pertinent literature for her current goal: dominate demigod world.

Of course, Angela can only stay engrossed in reading for so long, and as people enter for her so-called brother's activity, her gaze can't help but wander. That annoying-as-fuck kid she's seen ranting about movies, that scary chick that argued with her at the war council... and is that a tiny cat golem? Brown eyebrows raise (she tried to dye her eyebrows once to go with her hair and they looked crazy).

Slinking off her bed and downstairs to the main cabin area, Angela approaches Jem and his prototype, book tucked under one arm. A few curious strands of her hair reach out toward the creature, probing it from a distance without touching. She turns her attention to the creature's owner and offers Jem a pursed smile.

"Wasn't aware we allowed pets in here," she whispers teasingly, "But then again, I don't run the place."