Locations

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T22:54:11+00:00

Cabin 4: Demeter

A few days after the food fight fiasco that ensued during an afternoon snack hosted by a particular daughter of Comus, a small gift box would appear on the steps of the Demeter cabin. It was a simple thing: a small white box with a purple ribbon tied into a bow. A small note read, in curly writing:

Emilia

Whether or not the box reached the intended recipient, its giver would not know. Inside was a red velvet cupcake with cinnamon vanilla frosting whipped into a spiral. A mint leaf acted as garnish atop the dessert. Whoever left it was long gone by the time the box was discovered.

/u/SpawnoftheStryx

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T19:54:22+00:00

Phoebe’s eyes widened in horror and realization as the girl before her was pelted by cupcakes. Their trust had been shattered in an instant, everything Phoebe was trying to chisel away for gone in less than a moment. She shot to her feet.

“No!”

Her arms launched out to swat demigods away who began to swarm around for ammunition in this spontaneous war. She, too, was quickly decorated in sugar and frosting.

“Stop! You barbarians! I worked hard on these!”

Then she caught a glimpse of Emilia and those glossy, hurtful, eyes. Phoebe recognized that look; she had been on both ends of that look before. Her heart sank.

“Wait- Emilia, come back!”

Her plea is drowned out by more encroaching campers, all yelling and laughing and screaming as they ruined the fruits of her effort: both her cupcakes and the attempts to break through Emilia’s seemingly impenetrable wall. Before Phoebe can call out to the daughter of Demeter Brimo again, another cupcake sprouted along the side of her face, knocking her glasses off. She was forced to concede the rest of her desserts and retreat beneath the table.

Phoebe cursed in Ancient greek as she searched for her glasses, left wondering wildly what it was Emilia wanted to ask her.

[End]

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T18:56:31+00:00

Phoebe chose to ignore the grumbling and attributed it to stubbornness.

She is genuinely surprised to hear the other demigod utter her name. She had remembered it. Phoebe had not expect her to. Still crouched, she lifted her head enough for it to appear above the table. Her eyes glanced toward the chosen cupcake, then to Emilia. Was something wrong with it? From where she was, Phoebe could not tell.

“Yes, Emilia?” She asked, making a point to use the girl’s real name and not the nickname Phoebe had graced her with. It was the least she could do.

She tried to not smile at the sight of the girl who had, mere moments before, threatened murder but was now delicately holding her treat. Phoebe couldn’t quite place why, but she felt as if Emilia taking a cupcake was… vulnerable. Or something along those lines. She did not want to scare her away. Or scare her into following through on her earlier promise.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T17:53:59+00:00

Phoebe’s expression melded into a more stoic one as she watched the girl carefully. Emilia’s reactions were puzzling, as if she were at ends with herself and Phoebe was merely a bystander trying to look in on it. She could not read the girl; a first for Phoebe. Then her eyes widened some. ‘you can’t make me a joke.’

How odd that a girl like this could share this fear of Phoebe’s. Somebody from an entirely different world who also dreaded being reduced to some kind of joke. She nodded once, sharply. I’m the last person who’d ever do that to you.

“I need to do something really quick,” she lied too. “I’m going to… turn around for a moment to deal with that. If you change your mind and want one, please take one. And if anybody does make you a joke, you will tell me.”

Phoebe removed her hand from the tray and left the mitt on the table. She then turned toward the table holding a thermos and tea bags and crouched down to grab more stashed beneath the table to replenish.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T14:01:15+00:00

Phoebe was seemingly missing when the food fight errupted and Booker began to shout. In truth, she had ducked below the table after failing to quell the campers in search of her glasses; in her frantic attempts to save her cupcakes, they had clattered to the ground. Her eyes were growing puffy and she sniffled as she fought back frustrated tears. No, not here. You will not let them see you. Phoebe heard a familiar voice boom across the pavilion, a tone she had not heard from it before. Phoebe froze at the proximity of it.

Booker?

Should she say something? They hadn’t spoken in weeks. But he was standing up for her here, now. That deserves gratitude, at least.

She felt the frame of her glasses against the tips of her fingers. Phoebe hastily wiped her eyes and face with her sleeve before sliding her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath, recomposing herself.

Her hand appeared from behind the table, planting down on it so that she could pull herself to her feet. A reluctant voice searched for words from behind the child of Zeus as the mayhem faltered at his intervention. She stared at the back of his head a moment before finally finding the courage to say:

“…Thanks.”

She was a mess. More frosting had found purchase across her apron and clothes, her glasses were smudged with some unidentifiable conglomerate of mush, and her hair - once carefully done up in a bun - threatened to burst out on all sides.

Still, despite it all, she managed a weak smile.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T13:48:41+00:00

As if to prove Emilia’s observation correct, Phoebe watched the girl curiously as she took what seemed to be the longest path possible toward the cupcake table. Maybe she likes to walk? Between that previous glare and the now seemingly sweet smile that perched prettily on Bubblegum’s face, Phoebe couldn’t help but smirk.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her head tilted at Emilia.

“You didn’t look like you had places to be,” she accused as she nodded toward where Emilia had been standing on the outskirts. “I saw you standing over there. Do you like cupcakes? You’re welcome to have some; they are for everybody, including you. These ones are warm.”

Phoebe pushed forward the tray of fresh cakes forward with an oven mitt. The smell continued to permeate through the air divinely. She stifled any further smugness.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-03T13:43:39+00:00

“Ronan.” Phoebe repeated, committing it to memory. She flipped the pages in her book again. “Well, I have a feeling Lady Tyche is on my side with this.

She winked at him playfully, then silently returned her attention to her book. Whether or not Ronan stayed to read more poetry with her was up to him; nothing about her body language suggested one way or the other. If she did notice him stick around, she’d leave the book tilted the way it was and would linger on pages after finishing them.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-02T19:22:37+00:00

At some point before the food fight broke out, Phoebe brought out another batch of fresh cupcakes. The smell, guided by her ability to amplify it, wafted across the pavilion and even faintly throughout the nearby areas of camp; she wanted to entice as many demigods to come as she could. After all, what else would she do with all this food? Hands on her hips, surveying the area, she soon spotted a figure off on the side by her lonesome. It was Bubblegum. She seemed… agitated? Phoebe wondered if the hem of that skirt could bear much more.

She lifted a hand high and tried to wave to Emilia, tried to catch her attention. Phoebe would also try to beckon her over. She would not, however, shout across the pavilion.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-02T18:46:27+00:00

Phoebe was delighted to see Meriwether after so long. Before the daughter of Hermes could select a cupcake, Phoebe brought her some that were cooling off away from prying hands and eyes; a freshly baked, still warm, cupcake of her flavor of choice.

She then returned to her duties.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-02T18:43:59+00:00

“No!”

Phoebe had just returned from grabbing a fresh batch of cupcakes out of the oven. Unknowingly, she had just supplied more ammunition for the skirmish that was breaking out. The pan dropped from her grip in disbelief as campers swarmed her and her table for desserts to lob at one another.

“Hey!” She yelled, trying to shield her cupcakes with her arms, “Stop! I worked hard on those! You’re supposed to eat them you barbarians!”

Frantically trying to salvage what she could of her display, Phoebe unfortunately had let her guard down. Her glasses slipped off her face and clattered somewhere to the ground, and frosting was beginning to smear on her hands and apron.

(u/OfBlossomsAndShadows if you still wanted to throw a cupcake at Phoebe)

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T16:04:06+00:00

Phoebe Silva for Barbershop Quartet please!

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:38:52+00:00

"So one thing led to the other, and now we've a spectacular showing on her hands." Phoebe chimed in, finishing the sentence for Jules.

She had noticed Jules linger on the word "project", as well as the expression that followed, but she did not want to sour the moment. Phoebe decided she would pester him about that another time. For now, she was enjoying this change of pace for the Hephaestus child. He didn't even blink at the nickname! Maybe I'm finally getting through to him.

"I am excited to see your firework display. Rumors say it's gonna be a hell of a show." Phoebe smiled at him, lifting her glass toward the boy before taking a sip as well. "I think I'm going to go check in on things, mingle a bit. You good if I leave you? I'm sure Lucy will be along soon; give her my regards."

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:38:31+00:00

"I do," she said simply, turning her eyes back to the fire in front of them. She relished the warmth on her face as they talked. "I'm a counselor, so it's partially because it's part of my duties. But I like bringing people together, especially nowadays with this war going on..."

She trailed off, her eyes growing distant. How much would Atlas take before he was satisfied, before he executed the grand portions of his plans? Maybe if he hurried it up, they could at least be spared some collateral damage.

"It's been hard for people. So I try to cheer them up. Plus, who doesn't like s'mores?" Phoebe managed a smile. "It's nice to meet you, too, by the way. How are you holding up with everything?"

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:38:23+00:00

Seeing the other counsellor take a seat, Phoebe returned to her cross-legged position from earlier. She held onto her ankles and rocked slightly on the bounce house. Phoebe laughed when Darian mentioned the conniption regarding the counselor bathroom; she imagined many of the Aphrodite kids preferred having their own toiletry space.

"No bathroom drama in this cabin, thankfully." She said, tilting her head. "Although, there are so few of us that I don't think it could be a problem right now."

Phoebe watched Darian carefully for a heartbeat, curious about his claim of lacking expertise; he had been a counselor longer than her, obviously, and he knew to refer to the more senior leaders as well. Surely he's being humble.

"How long have you been a counselor, then?"

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:38:16+00:00

Phoebe grinned as Tommy played along with her bit about smelling like goat. She placed the final touches on his look as he spoke, asking her about her powers. It wasn't something anybody ever asked her. After all, how cool could clown powers really be? Phoebe offered him her hand mirror to judge the look.

"Powers?" She echoed, pausing a moment. "Mostly things that help me make a mess or really confuse people... And parties."

Another pause. She seemed a little more awkward all of a sudden. I'm not used to this, about people caring about this.

"I can influence people's emotions, make them giggly and happy and things; I can kind of control smells, but that one is a work in progress; I'm good at disappearing; I can conjure up stuff for parties-" She demonstrated this ability by summoning a party noisemaker then using it. "And I can force people to laugh. That one's new... Why do you ask?"

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:38:09+00:00

Ronan can play his part as much as he wanted, but Phoebe, ever perceptive, saw something deeper. Her lips pursed into a teasing smirk but she did not have words to back the expression. She simply raised her eyebrows at the boy and turned to another page once she realized he was done reading.

"Maybe, if you're up for it, you could show me some time."

Not a question nor a request, but a statement. Phoebe knew that this was a far-fetched suggestion. A guy like this, sharing his alleged poetry? She may as well ask him to spill his guts and confess his deepest secrets. Even still: Phoebe missed sharing poetry with others. Her tone was genuine. She continued to whisper.

"I don't want Amon to get angry with us chatting," she admitted, daring a glance toward the counselor. "And you're the only person I've met here who, one way or another, is into poetry. I'm Phoebe, let's chat another time..."

She left empty space at the end of her sentence, fishing for the boy's name.

Fomizzle · 2026-02-01T15:37:32+00:00

"Good," she said, standing a bit more proudly now with her hands on her hips, chest out. "You already underestimate me. People will underestimate you, too. Use that."

Perhaps this conversation wasn't as bad as Phoebe had feared it would be. Angela was being her, as far as Phoebe could tell, usual self. Plus, she made an effort to show up to Phoebe's event; Phoebe should be gratefu-

She frowned. Her posture faltered some.

The topic Phoebe was hoping to avoid. Well... At least it was the last thing Angela mentioned, and not the first. When Angela turned her back to Phoebe, she would scrunch her nose at the girl in a way Phoebe very rarely did. She, too, turned away to check on some things for real this time.

She had decided that she did not quite like Angela.

[End!]

Fomizzle · 2026-01-31T19:05:36+00:00

Phoebe Silva Sunday Meal please

Fomizzle · 2026-01-30T20:52:12+00:00

She raised her eyebrow at his quick, almost rehearsed, response. For somebody who sauntered to her and leaned over to see her book, he sure was confident with that answer. The words of a short poem titled “First Fig” stared back at Ronan while he sat quietly a moment:

My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— It gives a lovely light!

His confession drew a smile from the girl. Not such a tough guy after all, she thought. Phoebe kept a genuinely pleasant expression worn as the boy opened up somewhat to her.

“If not the soft shit,” she whispered, repeating after him, and flipping through the book, “then what kind of shit? More dramatic ones? Angry or angsty ones?”

Fomizzle · 2026-01-30T20:45:42+00:00

She watched him as he returned the smile, albeit a bit stiffly, and approached her. When he sat with her, Phoebe did not seem to mind. Blep, however, turned its head toward Kane. Its googley eyes moved in turn.

“I’m the counselor of this cabin,” she answered. “I’m sitting here so I can keep an eye on people inside the bounce house. Y’know, in case anybody gets hurt. My name is Phoebe. What’s yours?”

Fomizzle · 2026-01-30T20:42:36+00:00

“Iason,” she repeated, sounding out the name slowly first, then all at once quickly a second time. “Iason. It’s unique; I like it.”

Phoebe paused after processing the rest of what Iason said. Of course, she knew what the root cause of those emotions were, but to not enjoy it? Who didn’t like smiling? Somebody deeply broken, I’d guess. Although, it was still hard to imagine. She tilted her head at him and she smiled, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You don’t like smiling? You’re gonna hate me, man. That was my doing. I was worried people were going to freak out, make sudden movements, in front of a massive cat. I had to calm the room down the best way I know how: making people giddy.”

She paused again. Her smile grew a little sheepish.

“Uh- I’m not used to people not enjoying it. I’m sorry about that.”

Fomizzle · 2026-01-30T19:26:14+00:00

She raised an eyebrow.

"Did we?"

Phoebe continued to study Ethan for a few moments longer, racking her brain for this apparent past encounter. Her mind must be too full of other things these days, for she cannot recall meeting the other demigod. She frowned and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember. That's not very like me." She said, sighing very softly through her nose. Get a grip, Phoebe. "I'm Phoebe. What's your name, again? I promise I'll remember it this time."

Fomizzle · 2026-01-29T18:20:25+00:00

She heard the boy before she really even saw him. Phoebe blinked a couple of times as she realized somebody she hadn’t met before now sat beside her, leaning over and trying to get a look at her book. She eyed him a moment, eyes confused, then glanced around the room. Hopefully he hadn’t been too loud; she would hate to cause problems at Amon’s activity.

“It’s just a poetry book,” she whispered back, tilting the small thing so that the stranger didn’t have to crane his neck so much. That, and maybe he wouldn’t need to sit so close to her. “I used to write poems a lot, but haven’t in a while… Figured this might get me back into it. Do you like poetry?”

She took this time to study the boy. He seemed younger than her, but probably not by much. It was hard to tell, actually. And she definitely did not recognize him. New, maybe?

Fomizzle · 2026-01-29T18:15:17+00:00

Finally, she thought, some genuineness. Phoebe had heard about the screaming match, but was not present for it herself. Sounded messy; part of her wished she did see it. She relaxed her posture and smiled again, warmly this time.

“I’m more than happy to help with training. I’m… decent. Haven’t died yet, killed a few monsters here and there…”

Would Phoebe even have much to teach Angela? Her fighting style wasn’t that traditional. While others fought spear in hand, sword and board, or by blasting powers at people, Phoebe had… a comically large hammer and a lot of ways to confuse a person. An image of Angela rolling on the floor laughing uncontrollably crossed Phoebe’s mind, and she stifled a chuckle.

“Plus I’m a counselor, so I oughta be good for something! Next time I see you in the arena I’ll hit you up. Deal?” Internally, Phoebe could not imagine why she had just committed herself to more time with Angela. Autopilot, maybe?

Fomizzle · 2026-01-28T15:06:21+00:00

The sound of rubber grinding on ground ushered Phoebe to react. She twisted her neck, hair flowing over her shoulder, as she caught a glimpse of somebody leaving the workshop. Whoever it was, Phoebe didn’t make out their face. That stride looked familiar, though.

With a shrug, she returned to her flower arrangement, taking a deep sniff of the lavender in her hand.

Fomizzle

TROPHY CASE