A massive figure filled the doorway behind the redheaded daughter of Ares, the figure smelling faintly of grapes and fertilizer. A musky aroma of sweat and smoke surrounded the figure, it's muscular form threatening to tear through the strained white shirt that clung to his skin. "I know whatcha want, kid." Dionysus grumbled, squeezing past the girl, his form seeming to fill the room as he stepped in. He gave a quick look around, his eyebrows dropping slightly as his sweat lined brow furrowed. "Looks like ya haven't stole nothin, so you ain't in trouble, kiddo." he sniffed the air, sighing heavily as he chose to address the girl directly. "You one of Ares's girls, eh? Drop the innocent act. All my brother makes are bitches and brats, either way I ain't gonna buy your act." Dionysus stepped heavily toward his fridge, yanking it open with a heavy air, his massive hand darting in to grab a drink, retreating with a mug of coffee. He swished the murky water sadly, mentally cursing his father for the banning of wine. Dionysus was surrounded by the vineyards all day, spent most of his time making wine, spent his entire life perfecting the concoction, and now he was forced to drink the bitter piss that is coffee or the sweeter piss that is coke. Life was hell.
"I know what you want, kid. You ain't getting it from me. Just host your little party and don't start any fires, that Aphrodite boy will probably bring wine. Always does. Thinks he's slick when he steals it." Dionysus dropped down onto his lazyboy, the chair groaning at the massive muscular form's weight, "Get the fuck outta here kid." He all but growled, chugging down bitter piss.
Auguste retired to his cabin shortly after his little afternoon escapades, his lips still tasting faintly of ash after getting a taste of the lovely red head from the Hephaestus dorm. His tongue slid along his lips, savouring the taste as he stood before the floor to ceiling mirror in his room, thoroughly examining every inch of his sleek, muscular body. Each and every hair was just right, his nails were cut and clean, his teeth white but not too white. Once he was satisfied with every inch of his body, it was time to get dressed and get out of he buff. Auguste carefully went through his selection of self tailored suits, various jackets, more shoes than people in camp, and every accessory that Auguste could have dreamed of since he first began creating his wardrobe. If a camper were to ask him how he stored all of his possessions, Auguste would simply grin and whisper that it was a gift from the gods. In reality, he knocked down the wall of a neighboring room, sealed the door, and turned it into locked closet/pseudo-wine-cellar/storage-unit. It's not like the other brats Aphrodite popped out needed the extra space. It was just him and four other girls who were to busy jumping onto any boy that looked their way to appreciate their cabin. He settled on a pair of black jeans and a tan bombers jacket with a white t-shirt and tan workman's boots that had never seen a day of work in their life. It was a simple party and it'd be a simple outfit.
As night crept into the camp, snuffing day, Auguste left the cabin in the company of two blonde tarts who each clutched a couple of bottles of wine to their tight little bodies, their glossy lips, wipe hips, and lust filled eyes easily revealing their lineage. "The new Ares kids are throwing a party tonight, doves. Be sure to tell them I sent the wine." Auguste called over his shoulder, tossing a wave to the two girls who stared toward his back with a hint of confusion. "Where are you going?" One of the two called out, the question drawing a grin from the wolf masquerading as a man, "I'm picking up my date, doves. Now hurry, can't keep our new friends waiting." Auguste never shared with the two that he didn't know if there was a party being held with the Ares children. He had a sixth sense for those kinds of things though and in the end, if they weren't planning on having a party, Auguste would just force their hand once he arrived.
Auguste turned and dropped his back against a cabin wall, the cabin belonging to the pearl of this oyster that is camp half-blood, the Faberge egg that continued to elude him, the porcelain doll that he wanted to keep all to himself. His hand drew up to the window, his knuckles slowly rapping against the window that belonged to a certain pink haired girl. He gave a few seconds pause before he spoke, knowing that she was in there. "There's a party tonight, Syleste and it'd break my heart if I couldn't take you." Auguste said, figuring she'd be listening now. He remained against the wall, restraining himself from peeking in, not wanting to risk catching her in a moment of indecency. "Feel free to open the window," he added, his grin crawling onto his lips, "If you need help deciding what to wear, I can always slip in and help you get dressed."
