_{l o c a t i o n • o l y m p u s a c a d e m y // n a i a d e s l a k e i n t e r a c t i o n s • e m m a & a z u r e @Rockette @SamaraJayne96}

Damien thought about Aiden. It wasn’t because Emma had asked about him. Granted, he was thinking more about Aiden, but the Son of Dionysus was already on his mind. He was trying to remember when the last time he saw him was and if that last encounter was anything worth remembering. To be honest, Damien didn’t not like Aiden. For every annoying trait that Aiden had, Damien could at least admit he wasn’t a boring guy to be around. Whether that was due to him being the literal life of a party or his genuine good spirit, Damien couldn’t say with certainty which one it was. The only thing he knew for certain was Aiden Weinmann was a difficult person to get along with if you didn’t see past his abrasive nature.

When he came to gaze at his sister with the same protectiveness she often showed towards him, Damien knew that if worst came to worst, she could handle Aiden no problem. If anything, Damien would have to protect Aiden from Emma, not the other way around. “As long as he doesn’t get on your bad side, he won’t have anything worry about,” Damien commented, smiling with a grin directed entirely at his sister. “But, between you and I, he’s what most would call a fuck boy. Arrogant, has a too much of an ego, and truly his father’s son.” Damien didn’t realize it, but he cracked a laughing grin when he spoke to his sister.

Soon, on her word, Damien had turned his head away from Emma and to the sight of a third person by the lake. It was clear as day who she was. The aura around her, though different, was familiar. Damien had no idea who she was specifically, but the scent of Hecate was oozing from her to such a degree that Damien smiled and gave her his attention while being mindful to his sister who was ready to assault her if she even so much as took a breath that was without Emma’s permission.

To make sure that didn’t happen, Damien squeezed her hand tight as to assure her nothing was going to happen to him and there was no reason to worry. “Don’t worry, Emma. She doesn’t seem to mean us any harm,” he said quietly, hoping his words would give Emma some reason to withhold her potential assault on the girl near them -- for the time being, at least.

As his crystal orbs locked on the girl just a few feet away, he figured he should at least say something so she didn’t think they were a couple of weirdos who liked being by the lake alone together. “Can we help you with something? You’re giving off some serious stalker vibes just staring at me like that.” Damien tried to be as polite and neutral as he could not only because he didn’t want to provoke this girl in case she was indeed one of the crazy ones, but he also didn’t want to give Emma any further reason to react impulsively. That was his job.

---

BRRRRRONG! .... BRRRONNNGGG!... BRRROOONGGGG!
The large clock tower overlooking Olympus Academy chimed melodically. Twelve tolls rang out signaling the midnight hour. Azura crouched low on what appeared to be the floor of the Ares Colosseum. The environment surrounding her seemed to have a hazy, almost grainy texture. This anomaly in the air had been the only indication that she was currently reliving her nightmare.

What sounded like a thousand disembodied cries screaming in agony roared throughout campus. Ears ringing, Azura gritted her teeth settling into a strong defensive stance. The horrible sound deafening her ears was so loud that its vibrations seemed to shake the entire world. After regaining her composure the Daughter of Hecate looked up, her gaze meeting that of a thin, pale woman. Her raven-like hair cascaded around her like violent waves thrashing in a hurricane. Her eyes were wide, terrified, and unseeing. Fingers entangled her temples, carving thick marks into her skin. Mouth wide and tormenting: the screams were coming from her.

A male voice called out, indecernable through the chaos. The mysterious figure was as visible to Azura as a smudge on a screen. Unreadable. A fierce battle cry erupted and he charged forward. Weapon drawn and aimed for the woman beckoning the night sky forward.

All her life, Azura was taught that violence only begot violence. She saw fighting as a waste of time and attempted to eradicate it whenever she could. Why damage positive energy with senseless rapid fury? Rationalization and understanding were key factors in peace.
Her heart tugged inside her chest. A feeling all too familiar coursed throughout her being. The dread of losing a loved one.

The rest seemed to happen in slow motion:
"NO!" Azura screamed.

Tears streamed down her face as she lunged forward, her arm outstretched, desperate to stop the impending doom happening right before her eyes. Just mere moments from making contact she grunted doubling over in pain and collapsing to the ground. A warm, wet, stinging sensation sliced along her right side. A quick look showed a red stain growing in size beneath her shirt.

Darkness encroached her vision and her breathing became heavy. Her gaze locked on someone who had moved into her line of sight. What stood above her was a figure encompassed in shadow. Thorns splayed out of its skin like daggers. One of which was covered in crimson. The literal thorn in her side. Tears pooled down her cheeks and her bottom lip trembled as her attackers dark face transformed. Away went the mask thus revealing a pair of deep blue eyes wide with concern.
For a moment she fought the darkness looming in. A futile attempt causing her to pass out from exhaustion.

---

Reality came crashing down instantaneously. The shock was like being drenched in ice water. Cold and unyielding. The brunette blinked a few times feeling her eyes change into a steel grey: cautious/nervous.
The two siblings drew nearer. The girl looked uneasy, as if she wanted nothing more than for Azura to turn around and walk back into the Mystic Forest. It was tempting... however, a soothingly rough voice washed over Zu-Zu causing goosebumps to dance across her arm. His tone was dangerous and inviting at the same time. Protective. Misunderstood.

“Can we help you with something? You’re giving off some serious stalker vibes just staring at me like that.”

Azura narrowed her eyes, her mouth twisting in an amused smirk.
"You just reminded me of someone..." She spoke quietly, almost to herself.

Her arms raised high, stretching in a wide arc as she felt a few satisfying cracks creating a domino effect down her spine. Sighing happily she felt her eyes change once more into a pale green similar to Peridot. (Calm, content)
It was a good thing she didn't like to judge books by her covers. Working in a bookstore her whole life gave her a unique perspective regarding putting yourself in others shoes. Even if the vision she just witnessed was foreboding in nature, it had not happened yet. There was still a possibility that it would not happen at all. She could rest easily knowing that right now, they were just students spending their free time at the lake. And what a gorgeous lake it was. Very enchanting.

The words spoken from the punk reminded her of the reason she was at the lake in the first place. Instantly she reached over and began rummaging around her belongings. After a moment she grinned triumphant revealing two glass potion bottles, small enough for travel.
"I apologize for stalking you. Just needed to gather a few ingredients and it seemed like the perfect opportunity."

Leaning forward, she kneeled on the shoreline and began filling her jars with both sand and lake water. Putting the cork stopper in place she returned her things into its compartment and stood shaking the sand off her jeans.
"You know... two birds and all that." She chuckled sarcastically.
"My name is Azura, but if you'd like you can call me whatever. I don't mind nicknames. Sorry if I interrupted anything, I can get out of your hair."

Wrapping up conversations with Kelsey and her dime of a room mate; Avem- the two whispered their suspicions between one another "Maybe she's a fucking spy!" the daughter of Dionysus said in a voice that was as close to her version of a whisper. The two laughed it off and continued on with their plans. They would meet up later for the party, after Dustyn would settle in herself. "Catch you later babes." she waved at Kelsey, and nodded towards Avem. She hoped he was not just an act, but knew that if he tried anything suspicious Kelsey would castrate him before he could blink one of his sultry eyes.

Cicily might have thought Dustyn was the perfect room mate, and Dustyn would definitely try to uphold that innocent thought. This was the first time since she started attending the academy that she had been paired with a room mate that let her move her stuff in, let alone thought well of her. The two worked together to get all of their things moved in, Dustyn even treated for pizza after everything was said and done. "Thanks for being, uh, like cool." she girl said a bit more meek than usual. She was just happy to not have to sleep in her car this year, and hoped it would stay that way.

While Cicily was in the shower, Dusty sat on her phone and decided to text Kelsey:

🤩 KELSEY 💛
SOoOoO my roomie is pretty sweet. No problems yet. Did you get the dick down from Avem yet? Curiosity killing me..😺

Sending the chat she giggled to herself, as she moved to her part of the dorm room and looked through her clothing. She wanted to pick something that was appropriate for the woods, but also screamed that she wanted to be checked for ticks later. She pulled out another pair of short jean shorts, and a maroon tank top. She pulled out from the bottom of her clothing pile a black and red flannel. It had seen a lot of wear. She opted for a new pair of underwear and a clean bra as well. She was started to get a little rank around the edges if she waited any longer.



The vibration of the text message and the message attached made Dustyn laugh. If Avem could resist a whole week he was not worth the fight. No man was worth waiting a whole week for, especially at the academy. After Cicily had exited the shower, she shot a devious smile at Dustyn and the girl couldn't help but return the same energy. The rumor of the party had already been in her vocabulary, but Dustyn played along so she didn't hurt the feelings of her sweet cheeks. "Hell yes! I will meet you there, I need to shower so bad and brush my teeth like no one's business." she cackled, shrugging. The two girls would meet up later.

After taming the beast that was getting ready, Dustyn would clean up nicely and actually look what some would say attractive. Cicily had left for the party already, and Dusty was taking her time to get everything she wanted to get together. After exchanging a few texts with Kelsey once again the woman had said she was on her way, over ten minutes before she actually was on her way.

Frankie brought her there in one piece as she looked for her newly appointed seeing eye dog (via their texts), Kelsey. "WAAAATER KELSEYYYY! WAAAATER!" the inappropriate and oh so tacky voice imitating the renowned Helen Keller could be heard by a few of the bystanders that had just arrived at the party as well. Some laughed, others rolled their eyes. Some of the younger years even look petrified. Dusty laughed, as she took the flannel she had brought with and tied it tighter around her petite waist. She spotted Kelsey quickly, and did a slow jog over to her, "Embarrass you enough for tonight, bitch?" she said in a loving and playful tone. She had not read the text she had just received as she looked to the people or lack there of who had arrived. Was this a funeral?

"Ohhh fuck.. yikes. My bad. Uh, yeah." she said as her voice trailed off.

---

---

Half an hour or so after the introductions and, in some cases, fond greetings and clinging embraces, the students dispersed. Ian offered a hand to Lyra with her luggage, as any gentleman would, and they settled in their shared apartment shortly. The minutes of carrying several pounds worth of paraphernalia was not nearly enough to sufficiently stretch his muscles after the hours-long drive from L.A. where he’d been residing the previous week on account of his mother’s concerts, meet-and-greets, and a couple of free days she’d used to encourage Ian to explore the dizzying array of venues the city offered every which way. Shaking his head as if the physical action might help disrupt his reverie, Ian set to organizing his belongings. He refolded each piece of clothing carefully, placed the toiletries in the bathroom, prepared an efficient study place at his desk as he adorned it with books, notebooks, journals, pens, pencils, acryls, and the like. His laptop and tablet were at one side of the desk, his analogue writing and drawing supplies at the other. His bag and travelling case, now empty, joined the apparel in the wardrobe.

That done, Ian was sorely tempted to just throw himself on the bed, but he did not want to contaminate his sleeping place with the almost day-old sweat practically adhered to him. Thankfully, a 10-minute shower both fixed that problem, and energized him to boot. Now that taking a nap was no longer so overwhelmingly appealing, the dark-headed teen, dressed in black sweatpants, white T-shirt, and a crimson hoodie, headed outside. He heard whispers of the up-coming party throughout the Hestia building already, but ignored the enthusiasm and scoffed at the idea that this year, it would supposedly be arranged by the lake. If his light jog happened to take him to the self-same lake within the Mystic Forest, well, that was no-one’s business but his own. He slowed down to an ambling stroll as he heard voices from further in beyond the trees, and joined the two groups at the lakeside with a surprised blink.

“So, the party actually will be here,” he remarked to no-one in particular. “Colour me impressed,” he commented, his monotonous tone belying the interest his words might have otherwise expressed. He swept his gaze from person to person, but beyond the minute assessment of who he knew – no one well, not beyond their name or reputation – Ian chose to ignore the gathering. If a crowd were to assemble, he could leave easily enough before risking suffocation – or worse. With a roll of his shoulder, Ian walked casually right to the edge of the water, stretched, then promptly sat down cross-legged, and dipped a hand into the water. It was cold – too cold to swim comfortably. Shame, that. Nonetheless, he continued to play idly with the lake’s surface, not disturbing it overly much, but enough that perhaps a Naiad might deign to appear. If there were any resting nearby, warning them of the impending noise the students’ revelry was sure to cause would not be amiss.

"Hey, Jaime Lannister! You wanna fucking suck my dick, or what?"

The defensive yell came from the bed of Jonas Highwind's red pickup truck, rolling towards the lake at a speed low enough to stifle the angry American bellow of the Hemi engine, but the angry cadence and righteous indignation was textbook golden sun god. Even though the sun had mostly dipped behind the surface of the lake and its surrounding trees, the sky was still painted a series of erratic swaths, all magenta and orange, kissed by the surface of the sun. Even the meager power that his body still derived from the sun was enough for him to put a foot up onto the side of the truck's bed and hop down from it. He was holding a keg in each hand, and he dropped them unceremoniously onto the ground. A ferocious CLANG rang out in unison, and Dallas turned to face the pair of Salem witches. There was a cigarette hanging from his lips, only dimly lit, but his blue eyes were blazing.

"Now, maybe there's not a rule against having creepy Wiccan rituals on school grounds, but there is one about supplying for underage kids who want to drink on campus. Fucking Helena was all over me from the second I walked out of the orientation. It's a testament to my fucking brilliance that this is happening at all. Besides, everyone I told about tonight was told specifically that everyone should bring their own refreshments as much as possible. If I'd known you were thirsty I would have tried to bring some lamb's blood. Jonas, what the fuck? Are they still behind us?"

"Pulling up now. You gotta relax, dude. Breaths. Slow and deep," said the driver of the truck. Jonas' younger sister was sitting on top of the truck, impeccably balanced, sipping from a glass Coke bottle with a long, slim red straw. Dana was looking down at the tense scene on the ground with wolfish amusement. Hopefully if anything came to blows she could score the last one.

"Fuck you too," Dallas replied, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He did take a deep breath, though, once he saw his own car pulling up behind them. Rhea was behind the wheel, with Marcella in shotgun. The backseat, such as it was, had been filled up with more cooolers of beer. There was space in the trunk, too; Dallas had made the hard choice to put a third and final keg in the back of his own car, instead of his gut instinct to rig the subs. His car was the one with the premium sound system, but there was a lot more room for speakers in Jonas' truck than there was in his car.

And he had known that some pissants wouldn't bring their own fucking beer. This is why he loved...

...

Kelso.

I'll probably remember it right on fucking accident later.

She and Dustyn always brought enough beer to keep the fucking troops happy.

Dallas doubled back to his car and hefted the third keg out of the trunk of his car, gripping it with the hand he wasn't using to balance his cigarette. Sensing she was needed, Dana slid off of her brother's truck and meandered over to Dallas' Subaru. Rhea rolled down the driver's seat window and tilted her head out the window. He winked at Marcy in the passenger's seat before leaning against the WRX to talk to the other two girls.

"You two are on security tonight. Dana, you do what you always do if shit starts. Otherwise, you just mingle with your shopping buddies. Rhea, you remember what we talked about? You hang by the lake. Anyone we like falls in, you spit 'em back out."

"What if we don't like them?"

Dallas had figured his briefing was self-explanatory and completed, and he was already three steps away from the Subaru bringing the keg over to complete the trinity. The question, it seemed, had stunned him to his core; he turned on one heel to look incredulously at her.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

Marcella laughed from the passenger's seat.

"Rhea, what strategies did we devise for saving people we don't like?"

"Nothing."

"Then, by implication, you know what to do if someone we don't like is drowning. Don't sweat the small shit, alright? It's a new year." Dallas lifted up the keg again and carried it back to the truck, dropping it beside the other two and banging on the side of the truck twice. "Joey! Music. I left my phone in there, just play from there."

He had brought enough beer to cover the partygoers in his own crew, as well as most people who were too stupid to follow their own instructions or basic party etiquette; he had brought the music; a bonfire wasn't in the plans, but the night was still young. Some of the fierce, angry energy seemed to ebb away from Dallas, and he slid onto the hood of Jonas' truck with a cheeky grin. He puffed his cigarette towards Damien coquettishly.

"See, asshole? I'm ten minutes late, but where I tread, the good times follow. You're gonna be fucking creepy forever. No schedule's helping that."

Jonas obliged, simply relieved that he wasn't security detail for this one. Reclining as much as he could in the driver's seat, the bruiser indulged himself in a sip of his meager pregame— just the beer he'd cracked open on the way once they'd set everything up. He wouldn't be surprised if it ended up being the only one of the night. There was nothing wrong with the stuff, of course. But him not being the biggest drinker in the world was probably an old habit of the days when he was the bouncer-in-chief.

Couldn't have the guy keeping the peace removed from his inhibitions.

Speaking of.

He rapped his knuckles on the roof of the cabin, well aware of the exact force necessary for it to clearly carry over the vibrations of the subs that pounded against his whole frame from the bed. Danaye probably felt the distinctly off-beat vibration through the soles of her feet, in which case...

He rolled down the window and leaned his head outside, grabbing her attention.

"Stay frosty, okay?"

Given that the speakers were behind them and pointed away, he didn't need to be quite as loud as he normally did. Not for a bit of unnecessary brotherly advice. Satisfied with his message, he returned to his previous lounging and took another sip of the mostly-empty bottle. Dana would be fine. She had a better control of her temper than most of their kin, anyway. He could just sit down again for a few minutes and let her and Rhea handle things tonight...

Sheesh, I feel like a fucking boomer. Leave it all to the kids and recline in my makeshift lawnchair.

One step from bombing every lib that had gathered here and taking their oil, no doubt.

Here's to you, Captain.

He downed what was left and smirked, fondly remembering his summer job, and took another second to take stock of the situation. The most aggression present right now was between Dallas and Damien, general polar opposites, but he new his friend could keep a handle on the situation unless he wanted otherwise. Once the nerves that had been thoroughly frayed by their thread-the-eye-of-the-needle setup, with every evasion of authority that necessitated, had calmed?

He wasn't worried about 'em. As for the rest:

Dana could handle physical altercation every bit as well as he could. The girl had a very take-no-prisoners attitude, but even she could scarcely call what happened at a party like this much of a "fight" once she'd gotten involved. Someone bred for combat could quickly put any number of inebriated belligerents back in their place in no time. She'd be meaner than him, and probably less lenient on certain offenses, but he could name a lot worse replacements than his sister.

Rhea was in many ways a distinct counterpart. She was much smaller in stature and far gentler by nature, but a year's worth of teaching had shown him well enough that she could take care of herself in a scrap. Rhea knew enough fighting technique to have a leg up on a good eighty-five percent of the planet, and considering that they were on the waterfront, that threshold effectively increased to the ninety-ninth percentile. Girl could be a monster if she really wanted to, but with luck she'd need to do no more than retrieve people from ill-advised excursions into the drink. In any case, a daughter of Poseidon by the waterfront was nothing to trifle with.

Even through the harrowing buildup, Dal had made a smart move.

He could sit here a while longer...

lazy fuckface

Oooor he could stretch his legs again. He'd done a lot of sitting down and driving today. It'd be nice to take a walk. Not a dash, just a walk.

Highwind soon exited his truck.

He hoped nobody was hungry. Normally he whipped up at least a nice, loaded nacho platter or dip for a bash, but the teachers getting on their asses meant that they had their hands full just ensuring they had the essentials ready to go. No time for groceries.

No bouncing, no cooking, what was a large man to do besides meander and make polite conversation?

_{☠ Marcella Aveline Bonaparte ☠ 20, Fifth Year
Ψ Rhea Franky Psomas Ψ 19, Fourth Year}

---

Rhea glanced over to Marcy, who was reaching into the backseat of Dal’s car grabbing something. The Daughter of Hades had threatened Rhea with immediate reprucssions from Dana if she didn’t dress up tonight. As such she found herself in a far too elegant golden dress with golden heels to match. The top tying almost into a ribbon. It was certainly a step in a different direction compared to the ratty jackets Rhea had made a name for herself in.

Marcy was wearing a more simple outfit, though still fairly elegant. Her dress shot straight down from her shoulders leaving not a lot to the imagination, it trailed down to her ankles where she was wearing some flats. She claimed the only reason she made Rhea wear heels was because she knew that no matter what she’d put on the girl’s feet they’d end up hardly being worn.

They were instructed to drive the car over to the baech while Dal, Jonas and Dana took the truck. Her gaze left Marcy’s frantic search over to the path ahead. “You know I always have this weird fear that when we go away for the summer everyone is going to come back different,” Rhea started. “I have this strange sensation that people are just going to stop talking, or hanging out.”

Marcy rocketed from her head in the backseat to out the passenger’s side window, a key stabbing into a can of beer as she lifted her quarry to her mouth with those crazy Bonaparte eyes.

After finishing her shotgun in record time, she wiped her chin off and returned to her relaxed position in the car kicking her feet up onto the dash. “Aw, babe. We love a wistful bitch.” Marcy chided, her eyes jokingly pushing Rhea to swing back.

“You still shotgun like a Freshman.” Rhea relented, the two girls laughing as they finally approached Dal and the others.

"Hey, Jaime Lannister! You wanna fucking suck my dick, or what?"

It seemed They were getting there in about the middle of the pack. Not everyone was already there, but a fair amount were.

“What in the god’s names would have you think that we're stupid enough to fuck with perfection?” Marcy said leaning in closer to Rhea before giving her a quick peck on the cheek. French people. Dal didn’t waste much time in approaching the girls, as did Dana.

"You two are on security tonight. Dana, you do what you always do if shit starts. Otherwise, you just mingle with your shopping buddies. Rhea, you remember what we talked about? You hang by the lake. Anyone we like falls in, you spit 'em back out."

"What if we don't like them?"

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"

Marcella laughed from the passenger's seat. Rhea shot her a look, fucking French man. She was part Canadian she had no real excuse for refusing to learn the language besides spiting Marcy in a fun way.

"Rhea, what strategies did we devise for saving people we don't like?"

"Nothing."

"Then, by implication, you know what to do if someone we don't like is drowning. Don't sweat the small shit, alright? It's a new year."

“He’s got you there.” Marcy said, leaning back in towards Rhea as Dal grabbed the keg and began to haul it back over to Jonas’ truck. Her eyes lingering on his magnificent ass.

“That man is a hurricane.”

“Yeah...” She said, giving Rhea’s shoulder a confident clap before exiting the car.

Rhea voice shot out in a whispered hiss. ”Hurricanes are bad, Marcy.”

Marcy examined the trees in the area before happily clapping when her eyes found one about as dead as any of them got around this area. She skipped over rubbing her hands before placing them on its fallen trunk as it seemed to almost stitch itself an entrance to some horrible place. Screams echoed through distant yet present and in a matter of seconds a smallish three headed Dobermann-esque dog sauntered out, one of the heads rubbing on Marcella’s leg.

“Hey, boy. Aren’t you getting big?” She said in an excited somewhat childlike voice that was pretty abnormal for her. “Go watch Rhea, listen to her really well!” Marcy said, and just like that the Dobermann took off just stopping short of Rhea whose head was still leaning out the driver’s side window staring in disbelief at Marcy.

“Two things really quick.” Rhea said, leaning out even further. “What’s his name?” She asked.

“Creboros.” Marcy called back.

Flesh-devouring…

“Sick, sick.” Rhea said, leaning back into the car a bit further. “Second, the fuck was that voice Marcella Bonaparte.”

“Shut up Franky.” Marcy called back waving her off. Rhea smiled and exited the car, leaving it where the grass met sand on the shore. Together with the flesh dog she marched closer to the shore, to keep her ever-watchful eyes on the idiots who thought they turned into Michael Phelps after a pbr.

“We love a motherly bitch.” She whispered just above the volume of the music.

Marcy walked up to Dana, Dal, Kelsey, Damien and the others who were left with the kegs. While Rhea crossed their path to go and stand near Jonas for a while.

“Rhea’s getting too comfortable here.” She joked, watching as her dog ran after the girl excitedly. She turned to face the rest of ‘em who’d already started to set up on the beach.

"You and Bekah better actually have fun tonight." Rhea said, sending a soft elbow in Jonas' well built defenses. "It's about time you guys relax."

Dal was getting ready to throw Damian into the lake, at this point he’d do it just for Rhea to have some fun. Kelsey was already set up and she was prodding Dal to move quicker, no doubt a lesson in disappointment. Seemed like Damian, Emma, Azura and Dustyn were also already there.

Marcy let out a small yawn and stretch before reaching a hand into the Earth and waiting. About two minutes later she managed to pull two red gems from the dirt. She went ahead and tied them in front of the truck’s lights as Jonas got the music playing. The shore was awash in a red glow, the alcohol was here. Finally.

“Glad to see no one’s changed.” Marcy laughed a little propping herself on Dana’s shoulder. Turning towards Marston, "whenever we're ready for pong I've got Rhea's desk in the backseat."

Marcy glanced out towards Rhea who smiled shooting her middle finger up. Marcy blew her a kiss.

"Hey, Jaime Lannister! You wanna fucking suck my dick, or what?"

Already?

A single leg appeared, barely visible, behind the cab of Jonas’ truck. Then it lowered and its opposite number went up. Then, very slowly, their owner started to prop herself up on her elbows.

With no room in the Subaru, and space at a premium in the cab, Rebekah had made herself a nook in the space between the subs and the cab, nestled amongst the various wires and cables. On a night so nice she preferred it, feeling the wind muss her hair and the speakers send rumblings through her very bones. Strange to call it peaceful but it was certainly contentment. The only thing missing was a pleasant sun overhead, but the moon’s borrowed light did just fine. It was still summer for a little while yet, warm enough to make the evening air refreshing and not too cool. Warm enough to swim, even, accounting for Rhea on lifeguard duty. Olympic swimmers were in more danger than anyone swimming with that girl on duty.

As long as she liked you.

Bekah had no such assignment (fortunate, for most she would let drown) and hadn’t since she assisted in wiring the speakers into the back of the truck. Dallas knew music, but technology was more her wheelhouse than his. Still less than it had been Zaheen’s, but wiring up speakers couldn’t be much easier. She’d even checked the connections on the way over, running grounded wire through her fingers as carefully as her own hair. Not as premium as they would have been in his own car, perhaps, but no one other than the children of Apollo would have ear enough to tell the difference. Or, as the son of the sun himself would put it, they were tasteless.

She shared a brief glance in the rearview mirror with her fellow freeloader while Relo gave out instructions, indulging in an absent shrug. About exactly what mutual matter, hard to tell. Perhaps it was their company. The Nyx children were a little… off, and the Dionysus girl was most certainly on her no-fly-list. The rest seemed alright, though. The ones she knew. As sure as gravity, they’d all begun to be drawn towards Dallas’ offerings of drink and music. Not that everyone seemed to have brought their own, as he’d instructed.

Honestly. It wasn’t like fake IDs were difficult, people. Well, maybe for some. But it wasn’t as though they presented a challenge. Or that there weren’t individuals on campus willing to furnish one, for money. Not that that was a proper business model, and would of course be illegal and nothing that she would ever condone. If anyone had ever thought to ask and perhaps dropped a little money nearby, well, that was perfectly innocent, wasn’t it?

Anyway.

She bristled, just a little, at the way the Artemis girl glanced towards the pickup bed when she mentioned pong. She had fussed over her little nook, and stashed her book and supplies there. The daughter of Athena would not tolerate its removal, but she knew Dallas would tolerate the speakers’ removal even less. So comment was unnecessary.

”Marston,” She said by way of greeting, leaned backwards around the cab to better see her compatriots. ”Good to see you.”

Rebekah didn’t see her brother anywhere, but she would be surprised if he didn’t attend. She’d yet to see him in person, and she felt remiss for the oversight. This would be a good opportunity to remedy that. Any thought of remaining in the truck bed ended when Dana was assigned to security, and thus would leave the top of the cab very shortly. So she slid her sandals back onto her feet and rolled dexterously over the side of the truck bed, allowing her spine to straighten to its proper length for the first time in… An hour, at least, judging by the series of pops. Comfortable curled though she was, a 4x4 was not suitable for prolonged rest. A quick rake and shake with her hands restored her hair’s form, too, though she’d have to pull it back if she felt like visiting the lake. A distinct possibility, which was why she’d worn her swimsuit underneath her shirt and shorts. Her sweater wasn’t quite ideal lake party attire.

Idly, she considered whether or not she would have to drive the truck back. Depended on how many Jonas had, she supposed. She reached back into her nook and withdrew a six pack, her personal stock and contribution to BYOB, perfectly legally obtained of course. She’d deposit a few in the first cooler she came by, and not care much if someone swiped one. She had more that she would keep for herself, and perhaps for friends.

”I’ll have as much fun as I please, Psomas,” She stated a touch severely, undercut both by the faint hints of a smile playing about the edges of her face and by the way she dropped to a knee to stroke each of the miniature Cerberus at her feet’s heads in turn. ”But I will try, as long as you promise not to drown me if I set foot in the water. That would be unfortunate.”

“Want a beer, Marcy? Anyone? Personal stock, one time offer, ask not the means of its acquisition.”

---

“Oh, I get it. You just had to see me that much, huh?” The rebellious individual cocked his head to the side. His face revealed a mischievous smirk as he spoke. The volume of his voice suddenly rose, tone mocking, over Azura's right shoulder.
“But hey, I understand. I know I’m a little too irresistible. Why else would everyone here gravitate to a known Nyx child hotspot?”

"It's fine," The raven-haired beauty added tentatively, her steps cautious and unsure.
"I'm Emma." Voice soft, sounding like an accompaniment to the wind. With a graceful subtlety she looked over Azuras' person and added:
"And this is my brother, Damien. You weren't disturbing us... Not really."
She turned her head and looked over toward the focus of her brothers gaze.

"Oh... I don't think we were invited." Emma murmured sounding amused. The blood from earlier was still on her lip.

“As they say, Emma: if you aren’t invited to the party, then make the party invite you,” Damien winked at his sister in response. Something about the protective tone of voice he used reminded Azura of her father. It was affectionate, a bond to be treasured.

“So, what sort of refreshments did you bring?” Damien shouted once more.
“Or do we have to beg for you to share? Also, does anyone know where that tool Relo is? He’s supposed to be hosting the party we’re all waiting for, right?”

His attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. The Daughter of Hecate was familiar with social cues and thought it best not to interrupt his conversation. Curiosity got the best of her resulting in a quick look over her shoulder. Her round, green eyes widened in shock at the size of the growing crowd. The purpose of coming to the lake was only to collect a few ingredients she had needed for a new spell she was practicing. It seems as if she had instead stumbled upon a group of students in the midst of their shenanigans.

Two girls sat in the middle of the sand next to a large blue cooler. Both had a can of beer in their possession, but only one of them was cradling the beverage as if it were a coveted relic. They spoke loudly, speaking in terms regarding cult activity and ritual sacrifice. It didn't take too long for Zu-Zu to figure out that the topic of said conversation was directed toward Emma, Damien, and herself. Azura looked back to the Nyx children, her face sympathetic. The comments were rude, and really unnecessary. It reminded her of a time in elementary school when a few former classmates would bully her about her pant-size.

Once again she noticed the blood on the corner of Emma's lip. An instinct pulled at her chest causing her to reach forward in an attempt to remove the crimson stain on Emma's mouth.

As if asking for permission, her arm stopped still outstretched. One of the girls by the cooler had thrown a beer can in their direction. The first one crashed into Azuras shoulder sending a loud smack across the lake.

"Son of a bitch!" Zu-Zu cursed, rubbing her bicep furiously. The soothing motion took away some of the sting but she could tell that a bruise would form in that exact spot by morning. She followed the direction of the cans trajectory to see another beverage being tossed their way. Only this time, it looked as if it was aimed at Emma. She didn't want the poor girl to sustain yet another injury. Without thinking, the brunette lunged forward using her body as a shield. Her reaction was much like a mother bear protecting her cub. It was done impulsively without any rationality whatsoever.

"Ooof!" Azura huffed, this time catching the can against her stomach and handing it over to Emma.
She looked down noting a small dent embedded in the aluminum siding. It was nice of the others to think of her. Especially since the girls have yet to meet and exchange names.
The only problem was that Azura didn't drink... ever. She had tried back home in Michigan of course. Old friends would sneak alcohol over in used water-bottles during sleepovers. At the time she thought it would be a great way to fit in and unwind from the constant stressors of teenage angst. However, the resulting hangovers left little to be desired.

"I'll be right back." She spoke, flashing a warm smile.

Turning her heel, she trekked across the sand towards what was now the two girls from before, a cooler, and an extremely attractive male with long hair and piercings. While she walked toward them, another student was walking towards the shoreline and had been testing out the waters temperature.

"Hey guys, my name is Azura." An awkward wave followed her greeting as she did her best to maintain eye contact with the group.
"I really appreciate the gesture but uh..." She placed the unopened can in its home and stepped back.
I don't drink... Not that I mind anyone who does, its just... not my thing." Her shoulders shrugged nervously, unsure of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Two males appeared with a few others not too far behind. One of the two seemed pretty popular, but that could have something to do with the two kegs in his grasp. He spoke loudly and began a conversation with a few members of the group. Azuras' eyes sparkled as an idea took hold in her brain. Once more she dug into her messenger bag of wonders and pulled out what looked to be a cigarette case. It had a green geometric design and was made completely out of plastic.

"However, in the spirit of giving, I would like to offer you my own party favor I brought from home." She opened the case with a wicked grin revealing 20 perfectly rolled joints.
"If anyone would like one, feel free. If not, no worries. I have plenty more where that came from." While she placed a joint of her own to her lips she noticed yet another party guest. This one brought what looked to be a six pack and placed it in the cooler.

Azura exhaled and watched the cloud of cannabis billow and drift off towards the night sky. The stars caught a few wisps of smoke, illuminating and creating a poetic feel. Her muscles relaxed as a slight buzz took hold, melting away any extra nerves she had been carrying during her trip here.

"Well, if we put it in those terms— we've had all break to relax, haven't we?" he offered with an airy flippantness, contrasting well with Bekah's sterner tone. But just like his strongest foil within the domain of War, he too bent at the knees into a picture-perfect squat to offer his hand and a _{"what's your name, buddy?"} to the remarkably friendly Cerberus puppy for an introductory sniff. He was good boy. A good scratch under the chin was only fair for a good boy like him. Thaaaaat's a good boy.

Looking up from his extended greeting with a quite literal hellhound, a flash of bemusement crossed his strong features before he replaced it with an easy grin, one Rhea was well familiar with after a year's worth of training.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

He cast his eyes back down to the puppy, and fought his damnedest to keep his brows from knitting together.

What was with the dress.

What was with the dress?

They were outside! In Colorado! Those two would get so cold! What on earth possessed them to change into dresses for a distinctly off-record party, where the organizing team had to watch their backs the very second they exited the assembly? This wasn't a dinner at a Gala surrounded by plutocracy, this was a bunch of college students at a lake in the evening looking to get inebriated without attracting undue attention. Not the place for flashiness!

He exhaled through his nose, an act that the centermost head quirked curiously at and decided to mimic. Absently moving his hand over to behind that one's ears, his neutral expression didn't waver otherwise.

While Marcella was one thing, she always did off-the-wall stuff like this— but how did she manage to convince Rhea into doing it? He knew that she knew that she was likely to either hang out or be stationed close to the waterfront. He could safely shelve hypothermia concerns thanks to her heritage, but another danger remained— that thing did not look like it did a good job of being wet.

He thought she knew better...

Is this having fun? some part of his subconscious asked as he held his hand low, about where the canine's chest level sat at.

"Shaaaake..."

No, being bugged was not having fun. _{"Good boy!"} But he couldn't help it, the dissonance between their dress and the locale did leave one with many questions. Filing through a few of them passed the time, plus it'd continue to bug him all night. He couldn't even place when they had the time— if he'd glossed over the fact while loading up kegs and the like, that would speak volumes about how much he had let himself slip over the break. Something he intended to correct immediately.

He cut off the train of thought that took him into the reverie about clothes, of all things (Thanks Dana, nii-chan's been trying). Fully extending his senses outward and paying attention to them, he picked up several new stimuli. Most notably, he could clearly differentiate the sounds of the many subconversations happening beneath the pulses of musical bass.

"No thanks, Bek. Good for now."

Next came the distinctly pungent aroma wafting through the air— smoke. A common battlefield odor, but that breed was more oil, wood, or flesh burning. This was distinctly plant-based; without beating around the bush, it was marijuana. A...zura, that was the name she just gave, seemed to have her own approach to BYOB. Doubtlessly one that'd win her some goodwill tonight from the assembled crowd.

Taste was still mostly an afterthought, just the remnants of the drink he'd treated himself to on the way over, mixed with a hint of lake. Thank the local naiads that it was clean, as far as lakes went.

Touch was nothing special, just finer detail upon the pup's coat. For a distinctly Hadean creature, he certainly had a pleasant pelt— perhaps Marcy's preference for luxury ran in the family. In turn, that probably also explained the dresses that had given him so much grief...

Sight refined itself in an interesting way. Jonas's eyes were quite good on their own even when he was being lazy and zoning out, but not only did this fullness of awareness magnify their clarity (enough to pick out individual hair follicles if he so desired), but special attention was made towards recognizing and identifying micromovements, extremely subtle preparatory motions made before an action. The uses in battle were obvious to anyone who had ever felt a spike of adrenaline in their lives, but here—

The furthest head from him twitched his ears not more than half a millimeter.

"I didn't forget you, pal."

And the big lug in front of the canine answered its unexpressed wishes, digging a few fingers under the collar and scratching well.

"You don't plan on having any either, I take it?" he asked the Athenian, fairly openly trying to ascertain whether or not she'd be able to split the load of "cleanup crew" once the bash was said and done. He knew the answer already, since he knew Rebekah, but it didn't hurt to have her verbally confirm that she was already expecting the same.

"Grassy-ass."

Dustyn had said a very off tune sounding of the Spanish word for thank you to Kelsey. The ritual had been called off, the drink had been shared, and Dusty had officially saved the day. A long day that was in need of a drink. Taking a swig of the drink from the mason jar, the young girl's eyes lit up. Each flavor exploded in her mouth. She could have kissed Kelsey right there and then, but she figured she'd save that for later. Taking another quick swig she handed the rest of the mason jar to Avem so that he could have both the can of beer and the mason jar in each of his hands.

People talked back and forth as Dustyn pulled out her pack of cigarettes and took to lighting one. She nodded and laughed as everyone talked to one another. The night was young, and she knew that within the few hours while she was going hard core that some of these children would be throwing up. One of the faults of being a child of Dionysus, all of the b-class glamour with none of the b-class fun. It was something she would have to live with. Grabbing the mason jar back from Avem she took another sip of Kelsey's delicious concoction before handing it back to him purposely. She gave him a gentle smile, "Just fucking with ya Avem." she teased taking the jar once more again. She wouldn't be so mean to Avem as to make him into a human beer koozie.

Dallas made an equally inappropriate entrance, and Dusty knew why the two had become friends over the years. He had often let her stay at his place when the party had gone a little too long, and then for the few days afterwards. Dustyn raised her glass to him, while Kelsey yelled, "K and I brought this shit and we're looking to reimbursed with money, sex, and whatever else you can get me here at this lake." she laughed, taking a puff of her cigarette. She looked over at Kelsey for a moment with a giggle, before going into provider mode as she started to hand out a few of the beers when people asked- politely.

A unfamiliar woman that had taken the blunt end of the beer can came back and Dustyn wondered if she was wanting one that wasn't shaken to shit. Dusty was about to apologize but was met with a greeting. The girl was so shy, it was honestly endearing. Saying she didn't drink was a bit of a surprise as Dustyn parted her lips, "Oh." was all she could muster out. Taking another sip of her drink she watched the fair Azura shrug her shoulders and stammer a bit. "You don't have to drink, people might give you shit but if anyone says something, you tell us and we'll fuck them right up." Dusty said, watching the girl scramble around in her bag and pulled out a box.

"Ooh shit." helping herself she placed the unlit joint behind her ear. "Thank you Azura I will be sure to enjoy this once I finish this shit right here." she lifted her cigarette up to her lips as she took another inhalation. It was sometimes difficult to go between cigarettes and weed so often, the whole process was different and often she found herself huffing on a cigarette like a crack head. Piecing together that this was the young girl from earlier today at the auditorium.

THE RUSSIAN SPY!

Squinting her eyes at Azura slightly, she looked the girl up and down. She certainly didn't seem like she was a spy, but maybe she was just really good at disguises. Flicking her cigarette with her finger, she let the ashes fall to the ground before taking a smaller more elegant puff. She knew that she would get through the rest of her pack tonight if she didn't slow down. The night was young.

Dallas beamed and winked at Milwaukee's Best, waving cheerfully at her from his perch upon the hood of Jonas' truck. Normally he'd be more than happy to team up with her and show everyone how a couple of truly alcohol besotted fuckups could marshal a beer pong table, but Marcy had finally arrived - and Dallas/Marcy were the fucking Road Warriors of this shit, five years running. As much as he would have preferred to make up the messy bitch tandem of Dustyn/Kelse--

Kelsey!

"I gotcha, Kelsey," he crowed, clearly pleased at her name finally clicking in his head - even if he wouldn't let on that it had been plaguing him all day. "I gotcha on sex, too, if that's an open invitation, Dust. Marcy, form up, bitch. We march, we happy few, onto the battlefield ag--"

“Ouchies!”

Dallas visibly deflated at the familiar sound of his little sister. Although she was the first person he'd invited, out of courtesy and a deep fraternal love for including his sister in things, he was hoping that Viv's general naivety and klutzy nature wouldn't go so far as to actively cockblock his dreams of a good night. Clearly he had chosen to put his faith in the wrong place again. Explained why he was still a Catholic.

"How hard did you hit your head, kiddo?" he called out. "Need any ice?"

---

Dana bobbed patiently on top of her keg. She had been given an empty one to sit on top of while she vetted people who were either not cool enough or too belligerent to be allowed near Dallas. He was mainly worried about the 'not cool enough' part; more than likely he would have thrived off of some belligerence at the lake this evening, but it was the first day of school and he had been convinced by onii-chan that he was already willfully toeing a number of lines this evening already. Instead the task of cleaning up the undesirables was left to Dana. Dallas had scribbled something onto a nametag and slapped it onto the chest of the coat she'd changed into.



C.G.B.G. Her mouth formed the letters with a faint wonder, trying to grasp the intricacies of both the acronym and the son of the sun's deranged, partied out, nympho-maniacal brain. She didn't know why he made such a big deal out of it. She hadn't even brought her biggest pistol, let alone her biggest gun. It was safe under her coat waiting.

She straightened her back proudly, gingerly crossing and uncrossing her feet at the ankles and staring at the surface of her boots. She was growing very bored waiting to prove her dominance over drunk people - and her favorite person was not quite drunk enough for Dana to accost her yet. She tilted her head back to Rebekah and Rhea; they were both still sober and watching Dallas uneasily, as if he would still be the biggest problem that evening. Maybe he would be. That would be very Dallas of him.

If only there were a way for her to start trouble, in order to solve trouble...without having to start or solve trouble with her friends...

A-ha!

Problem solver Dana-chan!



That was a very polite opening text, along the lines of what she usually sent. Dana waited a few seconds to imagine that Ariana had said hello back before she sent her second text.



Bringing an Aphrodite girl would spark many fights. Then Dana's job as security girl could truly begin.

The Japanese girl grinned, feet kicking with excited little bangs against the empty metal drum where she sat.

Exhaling a line of smoke from her cigarette, Dustyn cocked her head slightly as she looked forward at nothing in particular. Her mind had traveled back to earlier that day when she had experienced the man throwing up on the pillow that she had laid in her head in just a few minutes prior. Did he know he was going to throw up? Did his asshole pucker a little bit, ready to bust like a partner in crime to the vomit? As her eyes squinted slightly in obvious deep thought, it wasn't until Avem's familiar voice yelled out that she turned in time to be absolutely ran into by no other than Vivian.

For a moment Dustyn was speechless, her head spinning inside like a washing machine on it's spin cycle. To make matters worse her hand now was empty. She had dropped both her drink and her cigarette. "Fuck Viv." she muttered out, as she looked down to the mess that laid before her. Vivian apologized and Dusty went to tell her that the situation was only an accident, and that it was just fine. "It's okay no harm done, except my drink and my cigar-." in the midst of talking, Dusty caught the sight of something extra among the grouping below;

Mason Jar. Cigarette. Tooth.

TOOTH!

Dusty gasped as she squatted down and picked up her tooth, "MY TOOTH!" she exclaimed, running her tongue along her dental line. It was quickly she found the empty spot among the top row. She was thankful it wasn't one of her front teeth, but it was close enough to the front where it would be noticed in her smile. The jar must have collided with her mouth as Vivian and her made contact. She held the small baby in the palm of her hand, looking up at Kelsey, Avem, and of course Vivian with a baffled gaped mouth. Hoisting herself up from her squatting position. "Well fuck, here you go Vivian- something to remember me by I guess." she stated handing over the tooth into the girl's hand. After she handed the tooth over, she grabbed up her cigarette from the ground below and placed it back into her mouth.

Pouting slightly for a moment, she waited only a second before speaking again, "Does it look bad though?" she asked, taking her finger and spreading the left cheek for them to explore the always active mouth of Dustyn. Inside they would see a fairly straight set of teeth, a bit stained from constant cigarette use and lack of constant care. About four teeth out from the middle would be a gap- the gums a bit inflamed and a splash of blood to really put the piece together.