Avatar of Apoalo

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4 yrs ago
Current Lets change this status for once. Still always down for potter stories, but branching out! Started a new year with a new writing journey. Should be interesting.
2 likes
7 yrs ago
I'm sort of an addict for Harry Potter. If you ever want to do an RP... I will be down almost 99% of the time. :D
9 yrs ago
RIP Alan Rickman, best actor for the best character.
5 likes

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โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†โ”€โ”€โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†
โ€‹๐™ธ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š†๐š’๐š๐š‘
None


โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†โ”€โ”€โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†



โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†โ”€โ”€โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†
โ€‹๐™ป๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹
๐™พ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐šž๐šœ ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š–๐š™๐šž๐šœ
๐™ทome
Partyโ€‹โ€‹


โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†โ”€โ”€โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†

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โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†โ”€โ”€โ—‡โ”€โ”€โ—†



Wesley Adler leaned back in his chair, glancing for what felt like the hundredth time at the clock mounted above the whiteboard. The second hand seemed to crawl with painful deliberation as it ticked closer to the end of the school day. His history teacher was in the middle of a lecture on the Industrial Revolution, but Wesley's attention was far from the 18th-century factories and social upheavals. All he could think about was what lay ahead that night.

Kassandra Arvanitis, the most popular girl, and Student Council President at Oceanus High, was hosting a party at her home in Naples. For the past week, it had been the only thing anyone could talk about. Kassandraโ€™s family did well for themselves. Her father was some sort of Doctor while her mother had passed away but all in all the Arvanitis place was large enough to host a sizable party.

Wesley had never been to one of Kassandraโ€™s parties before. In fact, this would be the first time that Wesley would ever be invited to a party by regular kids. He had of course the various โ€˜setโ€™ parties when he or his friends would have birthdays but even those were quick affairs depending on the Directors. Needless to say, he was expecting to be overwhelmed.

It had been surreal, really. He wasnโ€™t sure why Kassandra had included him, or whether it was some sort of mistake. He wasnโ€™t part of her inner circle and didnโ€™t hang with the kids who lived with the Rumancek clan. He wasnโ€™t a star athlete or a student body president type. He was justโ€ฆ Wesley. Quiet, smart, good at staying out of trouble, but also good at staying invisible. And yet, here he was, invited to one of the most exclusive gatherings as a Junior. The only thing he could think of was that Kass was paying him back for the red carpet event he had given her tickets to as his plus one.

The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

The bell finally rang, and the classroom erupted into a flurry of activity. Backpacks were zipped, notebooks slammed shut, and students poured out of the door, eager to leave school behind. Wesley moved a little slower, casually packing up his things, trying not to show how eager he was to get out of there. His nerves hummed under the surface, but he kept his expression neutral.

As he made his way through the crowded hallways, the constant hum of teenage chatter surrounded him. Everyone seemed to be talking about Kassandraโ€™s partyโ€”who was going, what they were going to wear, who might show up. Wesleyโ€™s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a text from his best friend, Markโ€”a fitting coincidence since his dad shared the same name.

"Dude, you ready for tonight?" Markโ€™s text read.

Wesley grinned as he typed back, stepping outside into the warm Los Angeles afternoon. "Yeah, just gotta head home and change. You?"

"Already ready. Donโ€™t chicken out on me. This is gonna be huge."

Wesley smiled, his fingers tapping rapidly as he responded. "No way, man. Iโ€™m in. See you there."

Mark was just as excitedโ€”if not more soโ€”about the party. For as long as Wesley could remember, the two of them had always talked about wanting to break into the regular people crowd at a High School. It wasnโ€™t that they were outcasts or unpopular, but they were just slightly socially awkward around kids who didnโ€™t also grow up on movie sets.

But tonight, they had a foot in the door.

Wesley walked across the school parking lot to his car, glancing around at the shiny luxury vehicles that filled the rows. BMWs, Audis, Teslasโ€”some of these kids had cars that cost more than his dadโ€™s entire annual salary. Wesleyโ€™s ride was a Nissan GT-R, his pride and joy. He slid into the driverโ€™s seat and tossed his backpack into the passenger side before starting the engine. The familiar hum of the car eased his nerves a bit as he pulled out of the lot and started the drive home.

Venice was a nice part of L.A., but it wasnโ€™t the kind of place that turned heads. The houses were well-maintained but modest, the kind of suburban homes youโ€™d see on a postcard advertising a comfortable but unremarkable life. Wesley had lived there his whole life, aside from when he was filming or traveling abroad, Wes showed that just because you came from a neighborhood of one type didnโ€™t mean thatโ€™s how it always ended up.

Tonight was his chance to glimpse something normal though. A bit of a look at what couldโ€™ve happened had Wes just been part of that comfortable unremarkable day-to-day life.

He turned onto his street, a quiet, tree-lined road where families had lived for generations. Kids played in their front yards, and parents walked dogs or chatted over fences. It was a far cry from what Wesley had seen from some of the places he had stayed. The manse in Italy came to mind where you had to wave to the security guards at the gate to be let in.

Wesley pulled into his driveway and killed the engine, sitting in the car for a moment, collecting his thoughts. His dadโ€™s car was parked in the garage, which meant Mark was home already. Wesley figured his father would either be working in his home office or cooking dinner, the latter of which was more likely. Mark Adler had always been a hands-on dad, especially since Wesleyโ€™s mom had left them. Wesley loved his mother, but he knew his dad had worked hard to make sure he never wanted for anything and Wes couldnโ€™t help but sometimes feel pissed off at the woman who lived across the United States. Mark had blatantly refused to use Wesleyโ€™s own money to make payments, and they were comfortable. Mark was the kind of man who found pride in working hard, paying the bills on time, and making sure his son had a roof over his head and food on the table.

Wesley pushed open the car door and made his way inside. The scent of something cooking wafted from the kitchen as soon as he walked in. His dad always made sure to have dinner ready, even if Wesley wasnโ€™t always around to eat it.

โ€œHey, Wes,โ€ his dad called from the kitchen. โ€œHow was school?โ€

Wesley dropped his backpack by the front door and made his way down the hallway. โ€œSame as the first four days,โ€ he replied, stepping into the kitchen where his dad was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan. Mark was a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and a face that showed the lines of years of hard work and quiet determination. He wasnโ€™t one to talk much about emotions or feelings, but his actions always spoke volumes.

โ€œGot any plans tonight?โ€ Mark asked, glancing over his shoulder as Wesley hovered near the counter.

โ€œYeah, actually. Iโ€™m going to hang out with some friends later,โ€ Wesley said casually, not wanting to go into too much detail about the party. His dad wasnโ€™t a big fan of large social events, especially when they involved people partying, and even more especially if those people were minors. Mark was practical to a fault, and he probably wouldnโ€™t understand why Wesley felt like this party was such a big deal, not to mention being a Police Lieutenant meant that he would quite literally arrest him.

Mark nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. โ€œJust be smart, okay? And donโ€™t stay out too late. Weโ€™ve got errands to run tomorrow.โ€

Wesley smiled. His dadโ€™s way of giving permission was always laced with a reminder of responsibility. โ€œYeah, Iโ€™ll be back before midnight,โ€ Wesley promised.

Mark returned to his cooking, and Wesley took that as his cue to head upstairs. His room was small but comfortable, with walls lined with posters of bands and movies, a neat desk with a stack of textbooks, a flat-screen TV with some gaming consoles underneath, and a perfectly made bed. Wesley had never really been big on fashion or appearances until he went into the spotlight but he figured red carpet attire would be laughed at for such a party as he was attending tonight.

He opened his closet, staring at the limited options. Most of his wardrobe consisted of elaborate designer clothing. After a few minutes of deliberation, he settled on a dark blue button-up shirt and his best pair of jeans. It wasnโ€™t flashy, but it was clean and simple, and he was proud that he could come up with something that didnโ€™t scream that he was some sort of jerk.

After changing, Wesley stood in front of the small mirror on his dresser, running a hand through his hair. His hair was always a bit unruly, but tonight it seemed to be cooperating. He sprayed on a little cologne, then stepped back to take in the full picture. Not bad, he thought. He wasnโ€™t going to be the best-dressed guy there, but he looked decent enough.

His phone buzzed again, and he checked it to see a text from Mark.

"Iโ€™ll be there early. You better show up."

Wesley smirked, shaking his head. He and Mark had been best friends since sixth grade, their first movie together, and if anyone understood the pressure he was feeling, it was him. They had both spent years on the fringes of high school life, always dreaming of what it would be like to just hang out and relax like every other kid, instead of working sometimes into the night weekly. Tonight was their shot, and neither of them wanted to miss it.

Wesley grabbed his wallet, keys, and jacket, and headed downstairs. His dad was still in the kitchen, now sitting at the small table with a laptop open, probably checking emails for work. Wesley hesitated for a moment by the front door, considering telling his dad more about the party, but he decided against it. Mark had always trusted him, and Wesley didnโ€™t want to push that trust by giving too many details.

โ€œSee you later, Dad,โ€ Wesley called out as he slipped on his sneakers.

โ€œBe smart, Wes,โ€ Mark replied without looking up, his usual parting advice.

Wesley stepped outside, greeted by the cooling evening air of Los Angeles. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting the sky in deep shades of orange and purple. The palm trees that lined the streets swayed gently in the breeze, and the city seemed to buzz with the promise of a Friday night. He climbed into his Nissan, the carโ€™s engine rumbling to life as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

The drive to Naples felt surreal. Wesleyโ€™s route took him through the heart of Los Angeles, passing bustling downtown streets, bright neon signs, and the towering glass buildings of corporate L.A. As he approached the little island, the scenery began to change. The narrow roads transformed into larger more well-maintained roads, and the houses began to grow larger as the wealth of Naples began to be displayed the farther he got in. It was a gorgeous area, and Wesley could easily imagine how people could be happy with living in a place like this.

Wesley felt a nervous flutter in his stomach as he drove further into the Island, knowing that Kassandraโ€™s home would be even more impressive than most of these. He thought back to what Mark had told him earlier in the week. โ€œImagine being able to host the entire Senior class at a party, and also their plus ones?! Itโ€™s insane, I donโ€™t even think I could do that.โ€

Finally, after navigating the maze of winding roads, Wesley arrived at the address. Kassandraโ€™s house sat perched in a perfect spot in Naples, illuminated by soft lighting that made it look even more majestic against the backdrop of the night sky and the canals. The driveway and roads were lined with various cars, some opulent and some rather regular looking. Wesley swallowed hard as he parked his Nissan at the far end of the driveway, feeling a little out of place again and feeling his anxiety grow just like it always did during first-day shoots.

As he stepped out of the car and made his way toward the front entrance, Wesley could hear the faint thrum of music from inside the house, mixing with the laughter and chatter of guests. His heart raced in his chest. This was itโ€”the moment he had been both dreading and looking forward to all day. He knew he didnโ€™t belong in this world, not really. But tonight, for a few hours, he was going to step into it and see what it was like.

Just as he reached the front door, it swung open, revealing Mark standing there with a wide grin on his face. His friend was already in full party mode, dressed sharply in a leather jacket and jeans, his hair perfectly styled.

โ€œWes! You made it!โ€ Mark exclaimed, giving him a friendly shove on the shoulder. โ€œI told you this was gonna be epic.โ€

Wesley laughed nervously, glancing over Markโ€™s shoulder at the party raging inside. Through the open door, he could see crowds of people already filling the enormous living room, holding drinks, laughing, and mingling beneath crystal chandeliers. The music was louder now, pulsating through the walls, and the smell of expensive perfume and cologne hung heavy in the air.

โ€œYeah, I made it,โ€ Wesley replied, trying to keep his voice steady. โ€œLetโ€™s do this.โ€

Mark led him inside, and the door closed behind them with a soft click, sealing Wesley in a world that, for tonight at least, felt far larger and more glamorous than the one heโ€™d left behind.



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โ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ข
โ€‹๐™ธ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š†๐š’๐š๐š‘
NPCs


โ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ข



โ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ข
โ€‹๐™ป๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœโ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹โ€‹
โ€‹โ€‹Stony Hedge Middle School


โ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ข

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โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข
Everyone is twice my size. I've seen babies bigger than me.
โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข โ—ˆโ—ˆโ—ˆ โ€ขโ€ข โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ” โ€ขโ€ข

โ€Seriously? Three against one, I mean look at me! Technically itโ€™s three against half of one. Like I get that you want to make a point but Iโ€™m disappointed in you Chase, not mad. Just disappoin-โ€ With his words coming to a halt and the sound of a thud and groan, Caleb winced as he felt pain rushing through his body. He doubled over, still being held up by two seventh-grade boys who were the go-to cronies of one Chase Crawlings, Calebโ€™s bully. โ€Where did you learn to punch? Some sort of punching-for-dummies book? I must admit, if so Iโ€™m impressed I didnโ€™t know you could rea-โ€ Another thud, another wince and groan of pain, and once again Caleb being barely held up by the two boys on either side of him.

โ€œKeep talking Lawson and Iโ€™ll punch your guts out.โ€ Caleb raised his head, eyes finding Chase's large baby walrus-like form, and his eyebrow raised a bit.

โ€Chase, seriously. Your lines are out of a weird 80โ€™s movie. Punch my guts out? What does that even mean Chase? Seriously, youโ€™re taking me out of this bullying experience with your ineptitude.โ€ Instead of a punch, the hallway went deathly quiet as Chaseโ€™s eyes widened in shock. His two cronies shared a surprised look and them seemed to try and work out what exactly was going to happen.

โ€œOh, Pipsqueak. Youโ€™re fucking dead now.โ€ With a raised fist, Chase began going to town on Caleb's smaller frame, who smirked even as he was being beaten. Finally, it could be over with and he could move on with his day. A stray fist hitting his lip smashed the smirk from his face and as his head hit the lockers Caleb sighed to himself and tried to cover the other important places of his body.

After a few minutes the bullies got bored, and with a final kick meandered themselves away, laughing and congratulating themselves on beating on a kid that was half one of their size. Coughing and slowly unwinding from the fetal position, Caleb straightened his limbs gently to see if anything was damaged too much. It seemed that he was lucky, nothing appeared broken just bruised though he figured a trip to the nurse wasnโ€™t out of the question. He limped his way to the office where the secretary almost had a heart attack at his appearance.

โ€œOh dear god! What happened to you!โ€ The shrill voice of the older lady made Caleb wince and he just gave a forced smile along with a thumbs up.

โ€Oh, Iโ€™m peachy. Just felt like I should stop bleeding on the floor so can I get a band-aid from the nurse?โ€
With a look that showed the woman obviously thought he had suffered some sort of mental damage she ushered him past the various offices and towards the back where the nurse was preparing supplies. The poor girl gave a yell of fright when she saw me and I repeated the thumbs up motion.

โ€I know that Iโ€™m ugly Ms. Towler but come on, that was just rude.โ€ He plopped himself on the exam table and sighed, raising his elbow and wincing at the bruising already beginning to appear.

โ€œMr. Lawson! What happened to you?โ€ The third voice belonged to Principal Lindt who had seen the Secretary lead Caleb past her office and came to investigate. The nurse ignored Calebโ€™s words and began taking stock of the bruising and raised his shirt a bit to tut as she realized the injuries were all over.

โ€You know how I am Mrs. Lindt. So clumsy, I was walking and tripped over my shoestring. The next thing I knew I was falling down the stairs. Gotta say it wasnโ€™t my finest moment. But your radiant visage has certainly helped with the pain. Thank you.โ€

Caleb was removed from the rest of his classes while the Nurse handled his injuries and wrapped the bruises as best as possible. He had a black eye, his nose was very red but wasnโ€™t broken but the blood had stained his clothes which would make his mom quite upset. This was the fourth shirt ruined by his blood. But not as mad as the Principal when he continued to say that he had tripped and stuck to the excuse. Even when the Schoolโ€™s Police Officer came to question him, Caleb simply said that he was clumsy and had fallen.

Now he was sitting outside the principalโ€™s office, his mother arguing with the man about finding the one responsible. Caleb sighed and made his way outside the office which was mostly empty now as the school day was over. He kicked at some dust on the ground and then felt his feet lift from the ground as he was shoved into the wall again. His eyes went wild as he noticed Chase once again and the blonde could only sigh. โ€Seriously? Donโ€™t you ever get bored picking on the same kid?โ€

Chase sneered and leaned forward, Caleb making a gagging sound as the smell of his breath washed over him. Chase frowned and then looked behind his back to see if someone was watching before he smacked Calebโ€™s head into the wall behind him. Yelling out in pain, and seeing stars Caleb shoved forward and suddenly it seemed like time stopped. His arms, now extended feltโ€ฆ Different, a tingling sensation in his fingers and something in his brain told him to speak a punishment.
As if he weighed nothing, instead of being the rather obese boy he was, Chase smashed into the office glass and goes through it even as Caleb who was staring with eyes super wide whispered, โ€walk on legoโ€™s for a week.โ€

Time moved rapidly then. The principal and his mother came out to check on things, the paramedics were called, and Chase constantly complained that it felt like the bottoms of his feet were on fire as if he was stepping on nails. Within a large building in Camp Halfblood during it all, within Dionysusโ€™ office, a note slowly falls from the air to the tippy top of his paperwork with a single name and location. โ€˜Caleb Lawson, Aurora Colorado. Get him to camp in a week and perhaps the nasty curse can be removed Mr. 'D'.โ€™


Last one
Surprise!








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Location
ใ€„ใ€„ใ€„ Camp Half Blood
ใ€„ใ€„ใ€„ Korbin's Safe Spot

Interacting With
ใ€„ใ€„ใ€„ Mighty the Wolf
ใ€„ใ€„ใ€„ N/A

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Thursday, June 1st - 5:20 AM

"Mornings like this remind me of some of those mornings in Europe, eh Mighty? That morning ambush particularly. It's. Weird to think that instead of monsters infesting these woods hunting innocent demi-gods, it's innocent demi-gods that fill them." From the darkness of the forest that surrounded Camp Half-Blood a male tenor voice would speak and as if in answer a low whine would come from some sort of canine. Rustling the leaves a figure shrouded in the dark would stand and give a long sigh of exasperation. It was really hard to talk to anyone in the camp, they didn't understand, how could they? And while selfishly he'd like someone to have shared in his experiences he also wouldn't wish what he had to go through on anyone. It almost made him wish he could just sleep forever, at least then he was somewhat in control of what his brain would bring up. But here, in the darkness and alone his mind would wander and flashes of fights from his past would flash, and each time the last image in his mind was his mother and the feeling of failure and anger.

As if sensing this, another larger shrouded figure, this time on four feet would press close to the first figure, and another low whine would be heard. A small chuckle would escape the boy, for it surely had to be a boy, and with another quick sigh, the two would begin walking back towards the camp proper. As a child of the Greek God Hypnos, Korbin didn't even need to sleep very much. A few hours would be like a full night for any other and the amount of time it required in between rests could be extended as well. It was an ability that served him well as a hunter, but less so as a camper, one of the many. He had gotten into trouble a few times already from Chiron for 'over-training' the younger students. Over-training wasn't a word in Korbin's dictionary so the stern talking to from the Centaur was puzzling and he didn't apologize for his actions, instead telling the half-horse that he was preparing them for what the world would do and what they would expect. Combat wasn't glorious, it wasn't something to idolize, it wasn't camp.

And that was the phrase that kept coming to him. What was out there wasn't camp and Chiron or no Korbin had made a promise that he would do everything he could to protect other Demi-Gods and hopefully prevent his own mistakes and experiences being felt by others. And that was why Korbin and Mighty took so many extra guard shifts, patrol shifts, recovery quests, and dangerous volunteer jobs. To him, he was expendable and his greatest wish was to die in battle saving someone worthy and then enjoy the unending glory of Valhalla until Ragnarok. It was interesting, and Korbin briefly smirked at how opposite the Greeks and Norse were, but it made sense. And while Korbin wouldn't go looking for death, if and when it came he'd greet it like an old friend and be ready for what came next. But, by Odin's will, he'd have a bit more time on the Earth first. He had already made good progress toward becoming more. Normal. And had even begun to make friends much to Korbin's surprise. After so long alone, or with his animal companions, Korbin felt that he'd never be able to make friends but so far so good. It helped that Korbin's 'talents' made him an ideal referee to the big three when they sparred and Korbin's real-world knowledge helped temper some of the talented and skilled swordsman's desire to prove themselves.

All in all, things were good and getting better. Which was a nice change. As Korbin entered the Camp proper he checked in with the Watch Commander and gave a brief report on his findings while on sentry and then headed towards the training area which was were he would park himself for the rest of the day until his next shift.
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Walker Scobell | darkorchid
"If you can't convince them confuse them." โ€”Harry S. Truman









Gavin Casalegno | #17A589
"Hold on to what is good, Even if it's a handful of earth. Hold on to what you believe, Even if it's a tree that stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, Even if it's a long way from here. Hold on to your life, Even if it's easier to let go. Hold on to my hand, Even if someday I'll be gone away from you." โ€”Crowfoot, Blackfoot warrior and orator 1830 - 1890


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