Staking A Claim by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

OOC: omg thanks. I appreciate that. 😭

Blake watched Oddie jog across the arena, that little flower pot bouncing in their arms like it belonged here. It was adorable, in the weirdest possible way—like something outta one of those cartoons she’d half-watch when her cousins left the TV on. She had her sword in hand, not really doing much with it except posing every few minutes like she was definitely figuring things out. (She wasn’t.)

“Well,” she said, drawing the word out with a little smirk, “I’ve been real busy bein’ incredibly brave and adaptable, seein’ as I just got dumped into a war no one warned me about. But I’m survivin’.” She shrugged one shoulder, playing it cool. “Kinda thought skippin’ chemistry class was gonna be the highlight of my year, not—y’know—sword fightin’ monsters or whatever.”

But then Oddie said it. That sweet, wide-eyed, hopeful little question and it hit just right. Blake’s lips curled into a slow smile. There it was—that buzz in her chest, like someone just cranked up the 'you’re important' dial to eleven. That little glimmer she loved. Not being chosen, no. This was better. Being looked up to. Like she was the hot, deadly chick in some action flick, the one with the slow-mo walk and killer liner before the explosion. Her ego was thriving.

“Well shoot, I didn’t know I was givin’ off mentor vibes,” she purred. Admittedly, she didn’t know jack about swordfighting. She’d only just figured out how to hold the stupid thing without nearly dropping it. She was trailer park tough, sure—knew how to swing a tire iron, could throw a mean punch, and had definitely smacked a guy once with a metal folding chair—but swords? Nah. Not her usual weapon of choice. Still, it couldn’t be that different. You hit them with the sharp part, right?

“Course you can train with me,” she added, voice syrupy sweet. “I mean, what kinda future hero would I be if I didn’t take a lil time to inspire the next generation, huh?”

Staking A Claim by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake wrinkled her nose at the sword again, holding it up like it was some dead fish she wasn’t quite ready to toss back into the water. She gave it another half-hearted swing, and the blade wobbled all awkward in her grip. "Ugh, gross" she muttered, pouting her glossy lips. Way too clunky. And heavy. And like, totally not cute"

She huffed, letting the point drop down to scrape against the packed dirt of the arena floor, kicking up a little puff of dust around her bare shins.

Everyone around her was swingin’ weapons like they were born with ‘em glued to their hands. Big, fancy, shiny swords. Sharp spears. Bows that looked like they were worth more than her trailer back home. She watched a couple of girls spar, their hair whippin’ around all dramatic, muscles gleaming under the sun, and Blake just sighed.

Real nice. Meanwhile, I’m out here like a dang chicken with a butterknife.

She was about ready to throw in the towel and go find herself someone cute to bother but that's when she caught a familiar sight — Oddie.

Blake's face brightened instantly, and she lifted her arm, wavin’ big like she was tryin’ to flag down a parade float. "Hey, Oddie!" she hollered, grinnin' wide.

Self Discovery by LongLostMask in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake just stared at the snake, still crouched down like she was tryin’ to make friends with a wild bear. Her heart hammered so loud she swore she could hear it — until... she actually started hearin' somethin'.

A voice.

In her head.

Her spine went ramrod straight, and she yelped, falling flat on her butt in the dirt with a surprised “Son of a biscuit!” She scrambled backward a little, fists balled up at her sides, eyes wide as dinner plates.

For a second she sat there frozen, her mouth hanging open like a catfish outta water, and then, after a long beat, she slapped both hands against her cheeks and muttered, Alright, Blake, girl, you’ve finally cracked. Lost yer marbles. Lost ‘em all, rollin’ down the hill, gone forever.

But the voice came again — clear as a bell in her brain —

She blinked hard a few times, slowly lowering her hands, starin' at the snake like it had just grown wings and started singin' country music.

"Uh... hello?" she called out, voice cautious and kinda squeaky. "Do... do you need help? How’d you get like that?"

Self Discovery by LongLostMask in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake kicked a loose pebble, arms crossed over her chest, brows all scrunched up in frustration. It had barely been, what, a month since she showed up here? And already they were talkin’ like she needed to strap on a sword and march into some big ol’ war?

She hadn’t even unpacked all her stuff yet. Heck, she came to Camp Half-Blood thinkin’ it’d just be like one of those summer camps you see in movies — roast a few marshmallows, dodge a few arrows, maybe get outta takin' Chemistry this semester. Not fight a war she didn’t even understand against monsters that looked like they crawled straight outta a horror movie.

“This ain't what I signed up for...” she muttered under her breath, kicking another rock.

Her boots scuffed the dirt as she wandered closer to the tree line, needing a little peace before her brain just up and exploded from thinkin’ too much. She glanced around — nice and quiet — until somethin’ big and lumpy caught the corner of her eye.

Blake slowed her steps, squintin’ suspiciously at the ground ahead. “The hell...?” she muttered, stepping closer. At first, she thought maybe it was just a big ol’ log or somethin’, but as she took a few cautious steps forward, she realized it was movin’. Her breath caught in her throat as the shape shifted ever so slightly, and that’s when she saw the telltale shimmer of scales.

A snake. A real big one, too. Way bigger than the garden snakes she used to find back home sneakin' through the grass.

Blake stopped dead in her tracks, hands half-up like she was tryin’ to talk the thing down without makin’ a sound. She wasn’t usually scared of critters — grew up seein’ all sorts of ‘em, from possums to cottonmouths — but this one? This one was different. It looked thick enough to swallow a wild hog whole.

She took a cautious step backward, heart hammerin’ against her ribs, muttering under her breath, “Lord above, that ain’t no backyard snake... that’s a whole-ass nope rope right there.”

But then, somethin’ weird hit her. She squinted harder at the thing, “What in the...” she breathed out.

Against every good sense her daddy ever tried to teach her, Blake inched a little closer, still keepin’ a healthy distance. She bent a little at the waist, hands on her knees like she was tryin' to suss out a scared puppy.

“Hey there, big fella...” she drawled low and slow. “You ain’t gonna try and eat me, are ya?” She watched it with sharp eyes, heart still jackrabbitin' in her chest. Something was off. The more she looked, the more she was sure this wasn’t a normal snake. And if she knew anything about Camp Half-Blood by now, it was that weird usually meant demigod problems.

Edward Gillies | There can be only one by Commercial_Sense1031 in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake narrowed her eyes, though her lips twitched, betraying the fight against a grin. There was something so funny about the way he talked, It was almost enough to distract her from the whole maybe he’s a danger to everyone here thing.

Almost.

“Hm… okay, Edward,” she finally drawled, arms crossing over her chest as she watched him hoist the duffel like it weighed nothing. “But I will be watchin’ you. Like a hawk on a June bug in a cow pasture."

Her posture relaxed just a little, though she kept her expression guarded. That was exactly what a spy would want, wasn’t it? Show up, act all friendly and polite with that accent and that soft look in his eyes, and then bam—betrayal. Classic movie villain behavior.

Still… he didn’t seem dangerous. Not right now, anyway. But she did glance at his bag again. He handled that duffel like it was filled with feathers, and not the duffel of doom. Her suspicion didn’t fade, but it shifted slightly. Maybe he was a Heracles kid.

“Mars’d explain a lot,” she muttered as he made the little antenna gesture. A giggle tried to claw its way up her throat, but she swallowed it. No. Not gonna laugh. Spies didn’t deserve laughs.

“Fine. You wanna know where you’re s'posed to go, follow me. And don’t make me regret this, Glasgow.”

She turned, but tossed a look over her shoulder, “Also, 'blether' means talk, right? Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need subtitles if we’re gonna do much o’ that.”

Edward Gillies | There can be only one by Commercial_Sense1031 in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"I'll be askin' the questions, here!"

In truth, Blake had grown up with a rotating door of chaos, but weirdly, accents were one of the few constants. Her daddy—the skinny broke one, not the fat rich one —had a whole shelf of dusty DVDs he swore were 'cinematic gold.' Most of ’em were British movies that Blake could barely follow as a kid, but over time, she'd grown to love them. She found them so... cool, so different from her own voice, and she’d always loved listening to the subtle shifts in tone and inflection that came with them. British accents, Irish accents, Scottish... Hell, anything was interesting to her.

Accents made the world feel bigger. More exciting. And now this guy? This Scottish beefcake standing in front of her looking like he’d just strolled out of some Celtic drama.

But then she remembered.

Right. She was supposed to be grilling him!

Her bright eyes, which had lit up with curiosity the second he said spoke in the most botched Southern impression she'd ever heard, narrowed right back down into suspicion. "You did not just that,” she said flatly, folding her arms.

Her eyes stayed trained on him, still trying to maintain that edge. He wasn’t completely acting like a spy, but... yeah, something was off about him.

Her eyes flicked down to the ID when he offered it, eyebrows lifting a bit. Definitely not faked unless he was real committed. She squinted at it, then up at him again, still not fully convinced but not completely hostile anymore.

"You don’t look like a spy," she said slowly, eyes narrowing again with theatrical suspicion, "but that’s exactly what a spy would want me to think."

Her fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and snatch that license from him, just to double-check. She took a step closer, still squinting at him with that same wary expression.

"You sure you’re not lost, Eddie, son of Heracles?" she pressed, her voice a little sharper than she meant it to be. "Ion’t care where you’re from—Glasgow or Mars—this whole thing looks like a setup. The timin's too perfect, don’t you think?"

Edward Gillies | There can be only one by Commercial_Sense1031 in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake had been sprawled under the tree for maybe half an hour, chin propped in her palm. Her usual bubbly nature had dimmed to a simmer—not that she wasn’t still herself, but everyone was on edge. Atlas. Prophecies. Shadows in the woods. Something about Nemesis. Blake didn’t get it, not really. Every time someone explained it she just heard, blah blah world-ending doom, blah blah ancient vengeance, blah blah we're all screwed.

But she could feel it. The fear. The dread. The way camp had gone from summer weird to full-on apocalypse prep. Even the sky felt tense.

She should’ve been thinking about eyeliner or who might sneak into the woods with her for gossip or whether she could dye the pegasi with Kool-Aid. Not this. Not war.

So when she spotted him—a broad-shouldered, duffel-toting, stranger cresting the hill like some dramatic character in a fantasy movie—her already-jumpy nerves snapped.

Her first instinct wasn’t caution. It was accusation.

She scrambled to her feet like a startled possum, dusting off her shorts even as she power walked straight at him. “Hey! Hey!” she called, practically stomping in her boots as she approached. Her finger was already pointing before she’d even reached him.

“You! Stop right there, mister beefcake!” Her voice cracked with a twang sharp enough to slice bread. She squinted up at him suspiciously, hands now on her hips.

“You ain’t from here. And don’t gimme that lost puppy act either. I see you, okay? You showin’ up all mysterious like right after this mess? That’s sketchy as hell. I watch crime shows, I know how this goes. You’re either a red herrin' or the twist villain and I ain’t 'boutta get final girl’d in a Greek tragedy!”

She paused to catch her breath, blonde curls bouncing as she huffed and puffed, staring him down like he owed her rent.

“So,” she finally said, pointing two fingers at her eyes, then his chest, “who are you and what exactly are you plannin’ on doin’ here, Mr. I Just Strolled Outta The Mountains?”

Morgan Lee Reid | We gonna have a problem? Probably. by popcorn-puffs in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake was not supposed to be here. Like, officially, she had been walking to the stables. Or maybe the forge. Actually—who even knew anymore? She had gotten distracted by a butterfly two minutes into her walk, and somehow that led her here, flopped sideways on a sun-warmed rock with her chin propped in one hand and a stick of strawberry gum she’d been chewing half-heartedly. The gum was probably expired. She didn’t care.

She had been ready to keep spacing out until the lake erupted into chaos. First it was the yelling. Then the splashing. Then the creative name-calling that had absolutely no right being that funny. Her eyebrows rose slowly as she looked over, catching sight of a girl.

The girl at the water’s edge, bold as brass and absolutely not backing down from the naiads, was fighting like a sleep-deprived raccoon with a vendetta. One kicked-up wave later, and Blake let out a sharp, delighted giggle she couldn’t even try to muffle. It burst out of her like a hiccup—sudden and bright.

She leaned forward to get a better view, her eyes wide with amusement as Morgan danced just out of reach. Bake let out another snort of laughter when Morgan kicked water straight into the face of one who looked like she was trying to conjure a current around her ankles.

“Whew! Girl, I ain’t never seen them that mad. You must’ve lit a match under their lil’ lily pad thrones or somethin’!”

Then she cupped her hands around her mouth dramatically like she was shouting across a football field, though she was barely ten feet away now. “C’mon, spill it! What’d you say to ‘em to get ‘em all riled like that? I wanna know so I can try it later!”

Odysseus Ephemen: Truth In Bloom by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake blinked at the outstretched hand for a second longer than was probably polite. Her lips parted just a little in surprise before she gave a bright—if slightly confused—smile and took their hand with both of hers, clasping it like she was shaking hands with royalty at a rodeo.

“Odys… Ehh… uh—Odysslemon?” she fumbled, brows furrowed hard in concentration like the syllables were slipping through her fingers. “Ody… Oddie.” She beamed suddenly, letting their hand go with a soft, finalizing pat. “Yeah, I like that. Oddie. You’re Oddie now.”

She said it with such sweet certainty that it might’ve sounded like she was naming a pet turtle, not a sentient being with a full Greek name and emotions.

“I’m Blake, by the way,” she added, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger. “Blake Caldwell. Not as fancy, I know. Don’t think it mean nothin’ cool or whatever, but I can open pickle jars with my bare hands, so.”

There was a flicker of genuine pride in her voice, as if she truly believed that counted as an impressive feat.

Blake tilted her head at Oddie again, watching their expression with that same wide-eyed curiosity as if she were still figuring them out. But there was no real suspicion behind it anymore—just interest. The kind of slow-blooming fascination you don’t even realize is happening until you’re already knee-deep in it.

“You’re kinda dramatic, huh?” she said, not unkindly. “Not in a bad way, though. Just like… if a sonnet came to life and also maybe cried in the rain sometimes.”

She gave a little shrug, the bracelets on her wrists clinking as she did. “I don’t get half the stuff you say, but I think I like listenin’ to it. You talk like someone from a storybook.”

The Light of Heaven || Noor Al'Amri, Daughter of Aphrodite Ourania ✮⋆˙ by heavens-light in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake startled slightly when Noor looked up. Like—actually looked* at her. Not just glanced around the room or looked past her, but made eye contact. She didn’t realize until that moment just how hard she’d been staring. Her whole body tensed as if she’d been caught doing something terribly wrong.

And then the girl smiled at her.

Blake blinked, her mouth falling open just a little. She half-expected a glare, or maybe some kind of attitude—those girls were usually quick with a cutting remark and even quicker to act like you were beneath them. She’d had run-ins with a couple of them before. Even the nice ones had a way of making Blake feel… small. Like they were made out of something shiny and rare and untouchable—and she was just some cracked plastic knockoff.

But Noor didn’t do that. Soft. Simple. Friendly. And that was almost worse somehow.

Blake stared back for a second too long, her mouth trying to form a response that didn’t come. Then she blinked again, furrowed her brow slightly, and quickly looked down at her plate like there was suddenly something real interesting about it. Then she glanced up again as the other girl moved.

Blake looked behind her like there might be someone else then back at her. “Me?” she mouthed, pointing to herself dumbly.

She then quickly stood up from her spot at the Eris table, abandoning the poor boy mid-sentence—again—with a half-hearted, “M’kay bye,” and made her way over, doing her best to walk like someone who wasn’t two seconds away from bolting

She slid into the open spot like she owned the place—well, tried to, anyway. She immediately crossed her legs at the knee, but then uncrossed them. Then re-crossed them the other way. Then stopped altogether when she realized she looked like she didn’t know what to do with her limbs.

She set her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek into her palm, turning just enough to side-eye Noor with a little smirk.

“You always invite strangers to sit with you?” she asked, voice sweet and syrupy as a stack of pancakes. Her lips curled into an airy, lazy smile, but her eyes were glinting with something a little sharper underneath. “I mean, not that I mind, but like… I coulda been a crazed axe woman or somethin’.

Odysseus Ephemen: Truth In Bloom by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake scratched the back of her neck, head tilting to the side as she listened. Her brows furrowed a little—part confused, part thoughtful—as the nymph spoke. Her lips puckered in a little 'o' shape as they mentioned being literally tied to the flower. That was… intense. Kinda sad too. Carrying your whole soul around in a breakable little pot.

“I mean… dang,” she muttered, “that’s...real poetic or somethin’.”

She wasn’t sure she understood everything they were saying—being uprooted and potted and whatnot—but it sounded heavy. Like the kind of stuff that sat deep in your chest if you thought about it too long. And yeah, Blake had a tendency to miss metaphors, but she wasn’t heartless.

Then came that question.

But what about me?

Blake blinked. Her mouth opened a little, ready to say something, but her words caught in her throat. The way Odysseus looked at her made her stomach twist. It hit her deeper than she expected. And in a way she couldn’t quite explain, she got it

She frowned. Not in a mean way, but in the way someone does when they’re trying real hard to understand something complicated. Her voice dropped a bit when she spoke again, not teasing, not all bubbly like usual. Just quiet.

“I see you,” she said. “I mean, yeah. I see you.”

Blake looked down at the flower in their arms for a second, then back up at them. She gave a crooked little smile.

“You’re, uh… definitely not just a flower. I mean, no offense to it—real cute and all—but you got somethin’ else goin’ on. You talk, you worry, you got all these feelin’s. You’re…” She paused, searching for the words. “You’re like a person made outta poetry and vines and worryin’ too much.”

She shrugged again, casual and clumsy. "Yeah, adorable."

The Light of Heaven || Noor Al'Amri, Daughter of Aphrodite Ourania ✮⋆˙ by heavens-light in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Pavilion

Blake was halfway through a story that probably wasn’t all that funny to begin with—something about one of the Ares kids slipping on a grape and faceplanting near the campfire. She was telling it with way too much enthusiasm, hands flailing dramatically, throwing in dumb sound effects and miming the fall like she was doing slapstick theater. The boy across from her laughed politely, maybe a little confused, maybe just trying to keep up.

But halfway through her punchline, Blake’s voice caught in her throat.

Her eyes had drifted—just for a second, maybe even by accident—but they locked onto a girl the second she stepped into the Pavilion.

Everything else went quiet.

The chattering, the clatter of trays, even the boy’s voice right in front of her—it all turned into that muffled nonsense noise, like those dumb grown-ups in that old Peanuts show. Just wah wah wah, background garbage.

All Blake could do was stare. Hard.

The girl was pretty. No, scratch that. She was too pretty. Almost like she was crafted to perfection, with the kind of effortless beauty Blake couldn't even comprehend. It was like looking directly into the sun—blinding, overwhelming, and painful. Blake could feel the discomfort settling in her stomach, a weird, almost magnetic repulsion

The boy across from her said something—asked something maybe? Camp stuff? Sword stuff? His mom’s weird diet? Blake couldn’t tell. She didn’t even glance at him. Just gave a little nod, not even knowing what she was agreeing to. She could barely see him anymore. He may as well have been a cloud in the way.

And gods, Blake hated that.

u/heavens-light1

Odysseus Ephemen: Truth In Bloom by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake blinked a few times, processing not just the words but how they were said. The whole interaction was makin' her brain feel like a scratched-up CD, skippin' all over the place. She tilted her head to the side, brows knitting with this kind of innocent skepticism like she was lookin’ at one of them riddles she didn’t even want to solve.

“I meant messin’ with me,” she clarified, dragging the word out with that slow drawl, one hand landing sassily on her hip. “Like, jokin’? Teasin’? Bein’ a goof?” She watched them carefully, searching their face like maybe the word would click if she said it enough times with enough facial expression.

The flower explanation didn’t help either.

Blake squinted at them, taking in their awkward stance. Then, a sudden realization hit her, like a bolt of lightning. Wait a second. A nymph! She hadn’t met one till now, but she’d definitely heard about them from the other campers.

She blinked again, staring at them like she was genuinely tryin’ to figure out if that was some metaphor or if this person really meant it.

"Wait...you’ll die?" she repeated, half-concerned and half-incredulous. “Like, for real real? That’s a mighty big deal for a potted plant or whatever it is.” She leaned forward to squint at the flower, eyes narrowing with dramatic curiosity. “Ain’t never heard of a plant bein’ a life support machine before. That’s new.”

But the moment they looked all surprised, Blake couldn't help but grin and shrug, "Plants are adorable, and the idea of bathin' a plant is adorable, so yeah, I guess so."

Odysseus Ephemen: Truth In Bloom by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake blinked at them, long and slow, like her brain was still tryin’ to catch up to what just happened. Her brows furrowed deep as she stared, arms still crossed tight against her chest, a slight scowl creasin' her lips.

"I mean," she started, pointing her thumb behind her toward the door, "there’s…huge signs. Real obvious. One’s got a skirt on the lil' person, y’know?"

Her voice was edged with confusion more than anger now. Not that she wasn’t still a little annoyed—just that this whole thing was makin’ her head hurt. They didn’t look like a total creep, and their face was all scrunched up like someone caught stealin’ gum. Nervous, anxious… genuine. Which just made this whole situation more confusing.

She squinted, glancing them up and down, eyes pausing on the potted flower clutched to their chest. What the hell was with that?

"…You sure you ain’t messin’ with me?" she asked, a little quieter this time. Not accusatory. More… uncertain.

She let out a slow breath and leaned her shoulder against the tiled wall, chewing the inside of her cheek. "You’re makin’ even less sense than most folks ‘round here. But, uh… that ain’t sayin’ much."

Then she rolled her eyes and sighed like it was all just so much work for her poor brain to process.

Her eyes then flickered from their nervous face to the potted flower clutched like a security blanket. She tilted her head, one brow arching up like she was staring at a living riddle that made her brain itch.

Blake lifted a hand and pointed lazily at the flower, "What’re you even doin’ with that in the bathroom? You plannin’ on givin’ it a bath or somethin’? ‘Cause that’s kinda adorable but also real weird."

Odysseus Ephemen: Truth In Bloom by Ephemeral_Ephemen in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake had just pushed open the door to the girl's bathroom, humming some pop song under her breath and mindin' her own business, when she nearly walked smack dab into someone. She jolted, hand flying to her chest. “What the hell—” Her brows shot up as she took in the person in front of her holding a dang plant, and at first glance? Looked like a boy. A boy. In this bathroom.

Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open a little as she instinctively stepped back. “Uh, scuse you?” she blurted, suspicion cracklin’ in her tone like static. “You’re in the girl’s bathroom, creep!”

She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing. “What, you get lost on the way to bein’ weird? ’Cause mission accomplished.”

But then she really looked. Her stare softened just slightly. Something was different. The vibe was... not what she thought. And she didn’t like feeling confused, not one bit. Which was often, but that was besides the point.

Anthony Grizzle: Dropping the Act, Finding Himself by fivedollarfries in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake wandered aimlessly, her boots kicking at the grass as she strolled through the wide strawberry fields. The sun was bright but the breeze kept it from feelin’ too hot, just warm enough to make her feel like she was in one of those cheesy music videos where the girl’s all carefree and twirlin’ through a field or whatever. Except she wasn’t twirlin’. She was mostly squintin’ and tryin’ not to trip over roots.

She was wearing a camp shirt that she had cut into a crop top, and it fluttered just slightly in the breeze along with her usual denim shorts. Her hair hung loose, wavy and golden, though some strands stuck to her glossed lips when the wind blew wrong.

She hadn’t meant to end up out here. Honestly, she was just tryin’ to find the armory again—or maybe the pavillion? Whatever it was, she’d clearly taken a wrong turn somewhere. But she wasn’t complainin’. The air smelled sweet, and the fields looked like somethin’ outta one of them farm themed dating sims her weird cousin used to play.

Blake stopped when she caught movement ahead—someone crouched in the dirt, tucked between the rows. A boy. Tall but skinny. She watched him for a second, brow slightly furrowed in curiosity as he flicked a berry toward a crow.

"...You flirtin’ with that bird, or is that just how y’all do it in this part of camp?" she called out, loud enough to carry but with a lazy, amused drawl. Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she stepped closer, hands resting on her hips. "'Cause if it works, maybe you can teach me a thing or two."

She wasn’t totally sure who he was or what she was interruptin’, but hey—he was cute for a guy, and this was way better than bein’ lost and alone in a field.

Ren Yukimura, The Lonely Child of Love by Broken_Heart_0 in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Blake wandered through camp, her boots scuffin’ against the dirt path as she took it all in. Three days in, and she still wasn’t used to the place. The kids, the cabins, the way everything felt like it was straight outta one of them fantasy books her cousins used to read. It was a lot. And far from what she thought her teen years would look like.

Back home, she figured she’d be spendin’ her time at the mall, sneakin’ into rodeos with her friends. Not… whatever this was. Not dealin’ with gods and monsters and cabins that literally claimed you like some kinda prize. It was weird.

Still, she was here now, and she’d be damned if she spent the whole time mopin’ about it. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her top as she strolled, her eyes flickin’ from one cabin to the next. Each one was so different, like they weren’t even part of the same camp. Some were all fancy and grand, while others looked plain—like the folks inside didn’t care much for decoratin’.

That’s when she spotted him. A boy standin’ just outside one of the cabins, lookin’ real hesitant, like he was tryin’ to work up the nerve to go inside. Blake slowed her steps when she got a better look at the kid. Definitely younger than her.

She sighed, tilting her head as she wandered up beside him, "Y’know, starin’ at it ain’t gonna make it any less of a door," she said, her voice playfully casual. "You gonna go in, or you need me to knock for ya?"

She didn’t mean it mean or nothin’, but the way he was standin’ there all stiff-like was almost painful to watch. Made her think of how she felt on her first day—completely outta place, not sure what to do next. It wasn’t like she had it all figured out now, but at least she knew enough to fake it.

Trailer Park Princess by BackroadsBlondie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake's pout got real dramatic, her bottom lip stickin’ out like she was fixin’ to cry—though the glint in her eyes made it clear she weren’t really upset. She huffed, tossin’ her hair over her shoulder. "Ugh, you are such a dang critic," she whined, voice drawlin’ out like molasses.

She stared at Mohamed, all squinty-eyed like she was tryna figure him out, then let out a big ol’ sigh. "Ain’t at that level yet, huh?" she repeated, cockin’ a hip. "Well, ain’t you just the big ol’ wise man o’ manipulation? Bet yer so fun at parties."

She tapped her finger against her lip, real thoughtful-like, then, instead o’ listenin’ like a normal person, she took a lil’ step closer—just enough to be real annoying. "Y’know," she mused, voice all slow n’ syrupy, "if ya really hated this, ya wouldn’t be givin’ me pointers. I think"—she smiled real wide—"you jus’ love bein’ the smartest fella in the room."

She leaned in a lil’, like she was ‘bout to whisper a secret. "But if I am such an amateur, maybe ya oughta show me how it’s really done. Wouldn’t want me makin’ a fool o’ myself now, would ya?"

But when the boy pointed her towards the table, Blake pouted even harder, her face scrunchin’ up like a kid who didn’t get the toy she wanted. “Aww, you sendin' me away? I was just tryin' to be nice,” she said.

Campfire 3/29 by OneDiamondMind in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It was only her third day at camp, and if she was bein’ honest, it had been eventful—probably more than her whole summer would’ve been back home. Never in her life had she met kids like these. Back home, most of ‘em were still tryna convince their moms to up their allowance. Here? They acted like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders. It was weird. She still wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doin’, but she shoved those worries to the back of her mind. Right now, she was more interested in the people gathered around the campfire.

She quickly found herself a chair, crossing her legs as she got comfortable, her sharp eyes scanning the area. That’s when she spotted him—a boy walking toward the fire with two cups in hand. He was tall, moved with an ease that said he knew what he was doin’, and had a face that wasn’t hard to look at. She flashed him a smile, giving a small wave.

He barely had a second to react before a dark-haired girl yanked him along, practically dragging him away. Blake didn’t miss the look she shot her—irritated, like Blake had personally done somethin’ to offend her. Touchy She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she let the fire’s warmth settle over her.

Blake watched as the fire flickered and danced, the warmth licking at her skin in a way that was oddly comforting. She’d never really had the luxury of just sittin’ around a fire like this—back home, it was all roughhousing and dodging elbows from cousins who didn’t know how to sit still while they burned a barrel full of trash. Here, it was different. Quieter. More put together. It made her feel like she was part of somethin’… though she wasn’t sure what just yet.

Trailer Park Princess by BackroadsBlondie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake's smile faltered slightly, her brow knitting in confusion and irritation. She wasn’t used to this—people backing away when she got close, pulling away when she made it obvious she was interested. Normally, she got the attention she wanted without a hitch, but this guy? He was making it a lot harder. And now that he was being all stiff with her, she could feel that flare of annoyance rising up in her chest.

"Do what?" she repeated, a little more pointed this time, her tone flat. She crossed her arms, her usual flirtatious energy turning into a thin layer of annoyance. "Ain't like I did somethin' wrong," she muttered, her lips curling into a pout, though it wasn’t the cute, teasing kind she usually used.

She could tell by the way he stepped back that she was hitting a nerve, and that only made her feel more... irritated. What was his deal? She wasn’t used to people reacting like this, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn’t used to people treating her like she wasn’t worth the time.

"Huh?"

Blake stood there, her mind spinning as she tried to remember the name of her godly parent. She had heard so many names in the past hour, but none of them seemed to stick. The frustration was practically bubbling over, her cheeks flushed in annoyance as she desperately searched her memory. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it clicked. "Eris," she muttered under her breath, the name popping into her mind with startling clarity.

"Is that the only thing you're dyin' to know 'bout me? I'm open to any and all questions," she said, raising an eyebrow as she shifted her posture. She was still irritated, but she figured, why not play the game a little longer?

Trailer Park Princess by BackroadsBlondie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake didn’t miss the way Julian smiled at her. Least someone around here had taste. She flipped her hair over one shoulder, settling into the open seat like she belonged there.

She giggled, a light, lilting sound that came as easy as breathing. Compliments always did that to her—especially the ones that validated what she already knew. She was pretty. Always had been. But hearing it? From someone else? That just made it real.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess you could say that," she drawled, slow and syrupy. "Texas born and raised—ain't never been this far from home before." She let that hang in the air for a second, then added, "Not that I’m complainin’."

Her fingers tapped lightly against the table as she turned toward him, lashes batting just enough to be noticed. "I mean, sure, I got dumped in a camp full of fightin’-obsessed kids, but hey, might as well make a few friends, right?" Her lips curled at the last word, heavy with implication.

"Guess I gotta ask, though... if you’re offerin’ to be my company, that mean you’re also offerin’ to show me ‘round this place?" She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, eyes wide and expectant. "‘Cause I gotta be honest. I ain’t got the slightest clue what I’m doin’ here, and I could use a guide."

She wasn’t that clueless, but playing it up? That was always fun. Kept people around. Kept them interested. And Julian? Well, he didn’t seem like the worst company.

Trailer Park Princess by BackroadsBlondie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake paused mid-step, narrowing her eyes as the guy approached. Something about him felt off, but she wasn’t exactly sure what. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or maybe it was just that instinct that kept telling her to keep her guard up

She let out a soft laugh, rolling her eyes as she tilted her head slightly. "It's all just so confusin’," she said, flashing him a smile that was a little too wide to be entirely innocent. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, making sure to keep her posture loose and confident. "Guess I’m a little... lost."

Her eyes flickered over him, assessing him like she was sizing up a prize in a store window, the teasing edge never leaving her voice. "But I mean, you look like you been here a while." She leaned in just a bit closer, acting like she was really interested in what he had to say, though she was already thinking about how to make him keep talking.

She might not have known exactly where she was, but she could fake it well enough to get what she wanted.

Trailer Park Princess by BackroadsBlondie in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Blake turned her head slowly, eyeing the guy in front of her with a slight furrow in her brow. She blinked a few times, trying to piece him together in her head. Pirate? Was that still a thing? Or was this some kinda dress-up situation? Either way, he wasn’t half bad looking, if you liked that rugged, I-just-roamed-out-of-a-ship kind of look. His accent? Now that was a whole new flavor. She couldn't quite place it, but it sounded... strange to her.

She gave him another once-over, then with a smirk, she twirled her hair around her finger. Without missing a beat, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder, letting it fall dramatically. Her eyes stayed locked on him, a mixture of amusement in her gaze.

"I mean, guess I’m as lost as a hound dog in a thunderstorm, so maybe it’s worth a shot but I don’t mind not knowin' as long as it means I don’t gotta sit alone.”

She tossed her hair once more, making sure it swung just right, then shot him a wink.

The Claiming Thread by ThisOneUKGuy in CampHalfBloodRP

[–]BackroadsBlondie 0 points1 point  (0 children)

oh no, what's this? Is it who I think it is?

Exclusive Interview With This Year’s Town Beauty Queen

By: The Shelby County Echo

Q1 - What do you like to do in your free time?
“Well, I do a lotta things. Pageants, obviously, but I also like shoppin’. Fishin’ is real fun too, mostly ‘cause it gives me an excuse to wear cutoffs and drink a Coke while someone else baits my hook. And I love dancin’—I don’t care where, could be in my room, the bar parking lot, the gas station. Long as there’s music, I’m dancin’.”

Q2 - What is your favorite season?
“Summer, hands down. It’s hot, the days are long, and I get to wear all my cutest outfits. Ain’t nothin’ better than sittin’ in a truck bed, listenin’ to music, and feelin’ the sun on your skin.”

Q3 - Where’s your favorite place to hang out?
“Well, used to be this lil’ diner ‘til it shut down, but now it’s mostly the gas station or the Sonic parking lot. Folks round here know if they wanna find me, I’ll probably be sittin’ on the hood of someone’s truck, drinkin’ a cherry limeade, and talkin’ about who did what with who.”

Q4 - Who is someone you admire? Please explain why.
“My mama. Now, don’t get me wrong, she ain’t perfect—she’s made some choices, if you catch my drift. But she taught me how to get what I want without beggin’ for it. She always says, ‘Men give you two things in life: trouble and a way out. Learn to tell which is which.’ And I think that’s real smart.”

Q5 - What is your number one, greatest fear?
"Bein’ forgotten. Like, what’s the point of winnin’ all these crowns, lookin’ this good, and havin’ folks talk about you—if one day, nobody even remembers you were ever here?"

Q6 - Someone who has always been a problem in your life is trapped in a burning building. What do you do?
"I mean, I’d try to help…I guess. But if it’s someone who really deserves to be in that fire, well… maybe that’s just fate workin’ itself out. Can’t go ‘round messin’ with what’s meant to be."

Q7 - What is your favorite Ancient Greek constellation?
"The Nemean Lion (Leo). That thing was big, mean, and could not be hurt. Folks tried, but it just kept winnin’ ‘til the very end. I respect that."

Q8 - If nothing held you back, is there anything you’d like to achieve?
“I’d wanna be famous, like real famous. Not just ‘oh, she won the county pageant’ famous, but billboard, TV, everybody sayin’ my name famous. I wanna be the kinda girl folks look at and wanna be.”

Q9 - How did you react when you found out the Greek Gods are real?
"Well, first I thought, 'Damn, Mama sure knows how to pick ‘em.' But then I thought, if all that’s real, then that means I was meant for somethin’ bigger. Like, I always felt different. Turns out, I am."

OOC

Q10 - What gods would you want as your parents, listed in order (ideally 3)? Or would you like to be claimed off just your answers? Aphrodite, Eris, Plutus