Apokalipse

S.H.I.E.L.D Academy

@ApokalipseHolden's half Japanese and was raised in Japan (he speaks Japanese better than English), doesn't that count for something?

@Kouki

he's so white though

<Snipped quote by Apokalipse>

Magnus is blue.

@knighthawk

.......>.> okay, i'll give you that

S.H.I.E.L.D Academy

<Snipped quote by knighthawk>

Movable floorboard!?

What is this, the Four Seasons!?

I don't know how ninja's are doing it now a days but back when Holden was having the fundamentals beaten into him instead of going to daycare he was taught actual skills, not to rely on such unnecessary luxuries. Anyone who can't kill 4 intruders in less than ten seconds with the kunai under their tatami is someone who shouldn't have a tatami in the first place.

Seriously...a chandelier, really...

Ninjas today, they're all so soft... *pulls his pants up higher under his armpits and goes off to make prune juice from scratch.*

I believe this is where I drop the proverbial mic, yes?

@Kouki

when the white characters think they're the most badass ninja >.>



_{guy is judging you}

Growing Up In New York

@HushedWhispers I'm guessing it's a bit obvious, but I'm gonna be dropping this, sorry. It was fun and all, but I don't have time for it with stupid ass driving school and a summer job i'm gonna be doing soon.

S.H.I.E.L.D Academy

This lil bae has been approved already, but thought I'd post her here, too :) Thought we needed someone a little bit... mean. So many cinnamon rolls ;)

Avery Hillcrest

Avery Hillcrest

"When one burns one's bridges, what a very nice fire it makes."
- Dylan Thomas

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_Dossier

Name:

Avery Hillcrest

Alias:

None.

Codename:

Blaze

Gender:

Female

Age:

22

Ethnicity:

Caucasian

Place of Origin:

New York, United States of America

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

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_{Ability Profile}

Powers:

Spontaneous combustion: Subject can cause objects to suddenly burst into flame. Underdeveloped ability - current range of roughly 2m (radius). Should increase with practice. Requires no movement - only thought. Noted that emotion can cause spontaneous combustion, and has occurred during nightmares (treat subject with caution). Fire can be put out by subject, but in this case, subject is often too distraught or does not notice if asleep.

Pyrokinesis: Subject can create fire on their body (usually hands) and manipulate it in the air. It can be thrown (control is lost after 10m radius - again, may be developed further) and used to set fire to objects or people. Requires movement of the subject's body. She is also immune to fire.

Skills of Note:

- Dirty fighting. She's not skilled - she wasn't exactly fighting secret agents - but she knows how to use her environment to her advantage. It was basically self taught.

- Persistence - Avery is incredibly stubborn and unrelenting. If someone hits her, she'll hit them back. In the midst of a fight, she'll ignore her injuries and submit to blind rage. It's dangerous for her, but can be useful if they're on the losing side.

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_{Psychological Profile}

Mental Evaluation:

Subject stumbled into the examination room with chin held high, jaw tight and aggression in her eyes as she regained her balance to walk to the unoccupied chair. It appeared that she'd been in a small altercation with one of the agents outside before entering. She took a seat with a soft huff, looking across at the window before going back to me with an angry stare, breathing heavily. I could tell already that the subject was simmering, although she was not taking it out on me yet.

Questions asked to her were first answered in a strained tone, before her words started becoming sharp. She wasn't directly angry with me, although there were certainly some biting remarks and scathing stares. The subject seemed angry with the world in general, and especially with herself. Her hands formed into fists, shoulders tensing and eyes darting around the room for escape routes as we progressed.

When I touched upon her history with gang members, she seemed to become particularly incensed. My notes on the subject quickly bursted into flame. Her expression revealed her to be more scared than I when agents rushed in to douse the fire - before it was quickly covered up by aggression toward the agents. She noticeably flinched when one came too close, then started becoming hostile. I had to quickly send the agents out before anything arose.

Avery suffers from anxiety that she deals with by using anger - as opposed to 'flight,' she uses 'fight,' as her coping mechanism. At the mention of prescribing medication, she straightened with a set jaw and stared me down for a full minute before denying that there was anything wrong with her. I suspect that she may also experience panic attacks and sleeping issues, although she was extremely evasive on this subject. I could see that her pride would not allow her to take medication, but I will be prescribing medication to be made available to her in case she decides that she needs it.

Physical Evaluation:

Avery stands at 5,7" and around 125 pounds. She's very slim with strong arms and legs - fighting and running for your life will do that to you. She holds herself uncomfortably stiffly when angered, and always seems very aware of her surroundings - as if she never feels safe.

She's a pretty girl despite the often-hostile expression she has on her features, with high cheekbones and thin, arched eyebrows. Her eyes are large and green, and often accentuated by black eyeliner - to distract from the tired black circles that sometimes hang beneath them. She seems to have a habit of opening her eyes wider than a usual person would, to better express what she is saying or doing. Her hair is a medium brown that goes to slightly beneath her shoulders, usually in soft waves or pinned back. Avery's jawline is strong and angular, often set in tense restraint.

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Bio

Biography:

Avery grew up in a bad part of New York City, with two parents who were forever arguing and a far younger brother, David. She and her sibling had a six year age gap, but were as thick as thieves. She often found herself caring for him, as her mother and father were often out of the old apartment or high or drunk. She was a defensive child at school, trying to keep up socially with little money or know-how while caring for David - but extremely selfless and caring toward him.

Life continued on as 'normal,' for the next 12 years, and occasionally Child Services checked in on them. They were never deemed a bad enough case to be taken away, and besides - Avery didn't want to leave her little brother behind. However, she was becoming anxious and overwhelmed by the responsibility that had been laden onto her shoulders. Sleeping problems and migraines started manifesting, and at age 17, her powers came into being. It started as her special secret, the way that she could light her candle at night. It progressed to more, although she always got scared and quit before it got out of hand.

Unfortunately, she had a terrible nightmare at age 18 that resulted in sleep paralysis. While the nightmare had been going on, her curtains had spontaneously combusted. As she became more and more afraid, other things started catching alight. When sleep paralysis ensued, she could but watch as fire crackled around her room, sneaking on the carpet and into the rest of the house. Smoke swept through it. When she could finally move, her clothes burnt from her body as she ran to try to save her parents and brother. They were asphyxiated.

The firemen rescued her, at a complete loss as to how she survived, and clothed her in a blanket as she sat in the back of the truck. Avery cried. She sobbed as the blaze simmered down, as they brought out the burnt bodies of her family, as the one fireman tried to get any sense out of her, as her tears ran out and all that was left was shaking shoulders and panicked breath. They left her alone, for just a moment, before what appeared to be a police officer approached her, asking that she come with them to make a report (or something like that - she couldn't remember anymore). Next thing she knew, she was bundled into the back of a car and something strong smelling was pressed to her mouth and nose.

Long story short, her father had been involved with an extremely powerful druglord. They'd taken her as a sort of 'payment.' On her first night, she was drugged and raped. In her semi-conscious, confused, disoriented and terrified state, she set the filthy bedding alight and burned the man violating her. The big boss realised the power he held in his hands, and set her out to lure in other debt owers by posing as a prostitute that killed them in dark alleys. They never dared touch her again.

Those months were long and hard and difficult. She developed severe anxiety, and experienced panic attacks - but she hid her suffering with anger. Avery grew a coping mechanism of anger and resentment in order to not go mad, punching the concrete walls of her cell and screaming until her voice grew hoarse. The only thing to do, she eventually realised, was to escape. She formed a delicate escape plan, and... well. It worked.

That night was the longest night that she ever experienced. Avery ran. And ran. And ran. Her chest grew tight with a panic attack as she hid inside a convenience store, before she forced herself to run again. She was unfit for running, and so tired, and sore, but she moved until her legs fell out from underneath her and all that she could taste was blood in her throat. By some miracle, they didn't catch her that night, slumped behind a dumpster she'd crawled behind.

Avery never regained her freedom after that day. Scarred by her rape and treatment by the gang, she couldn't bear to be in closed spaces or close to any men for a long, long time. She came and went in womens' shelters, eventually growing more used to quieter men and closed quarters. Forever she was looking over her shoulder for someone to take her away, to grab her arm and throw her back in that small room. She was still angry, and became known as the woman to avoid in the shelters - occasionally starting fights, screaming and usually rude to others, even those with good intentions.

Avery still used her powers. They were useful for warming up at night, or for scaring would-be creepers away. She had been kicked out of a shelter for aggressive behaviour and it was cold, early January. Snow had fallen. Avery had been walking - what else could she do other than sit? - and it was a cold night. As sometimes happened, a man decided he'd taken a liking to her and started following her.

Bruce Banner also happened to be getting himself some groceries that fateful evening, when he spotted the man following the hunched shoulders of Avery, and turning a sharp left to follow her into an alleyway. Bruce, being the upstanding citizen that he was, immediately followed at a run. He expected to have to pull him off her - but, instead, saw her fending him off with a swirl of fire. Bruce stood there for a moment, a small expression of wonder on his face despite himself. He tried to talk to her afterwards, but she yelled something abusive before taking off.

Bruce made a point of encountering her throughout his daily routine a couple of times, and they established a small rapport. He would bring her something warm to drink or eat, and she would take it while looking at him with guarded, hostile eyes. Occasionally a biting remark would escape her, or she would flinch away if he moved too close or too quickly - but his kindness burrowed deep within her bruised and beaten heart. He quietly explained his own experience as they sat on benches, a good half metre between them, and she would listen. He, too, got angry. He, too, had done things he regretted. The space between them grew smaller. When he asked her if she would join the Academy, it took a couple of days for her to come around. But she did.

Maybe things didn't need to burn anymore.

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_Extras

Likes:

• Bruce Banner
• Hot chocolate
• Warmth
• Having the upper hand
• Alcohol - it tends to lighten her up a little

Dislikes

• Bruised pride
• Loud, aggressive men - she's generally cautious of men all around, but these are the worst for her.
• Forced touch
• Close quarters (claustrophobic environments)
• Experiencing anxiety or panic attacks

Miscellaneous:

She doesn't like her coping mechanism of anger and aggression; it's more of a necessity to avoid anxiety or panic attacks. Avery also doesn't trust easily, as a result of her history. She's still pretty angry at the world, although she's trying to be less hostile and jumpy.

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@Chicogal

:O oooh, guy and her have similar powers ^_^ they can both blow stuff up, they should practice together ;)

Growing Up In New York

God damn, this is annoying... I'm having a lot of trouble getting this post written >.<

I'm gonna try my hardest to have it done and written, but, no promises for today... Sorry.

@Vocab

I'm right there with you (>_<') i cant seem to get a post out

Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]

like this status if you want relations with WINSLOW (not Honey) and I'll PM you

Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]

I'll get a post up soon. Just struggling on what to post. :/

@HushedWhispers

im there with you. it took the whole day for me to even figure out how to start it and im still not satisfied TT_TT

if skye needs to text someone or something, apparently everybody has honey's number >.> (he lives on social media)

Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]

Winslow Washington, Daughter of Athena

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"For some of us, books are intrinsic to our sense of personal identity.”

– J O H N U P D I K E
Take Me to Church - Hozier | I Am Not a Robot - Marina and the Diamonds

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N A M E:

Winslow Winifred Washington.

N I C K N A M E:

Winnie - a common nickname that Winslow particularly hates but is often on the receiving end of. She hates names that have the 'e' sound at the end, but its overly convenient for others to call her such a nickname considering her first name and middle name fit the bill.

Win - a pet name used sometimes by close friends and relatives, it simplifies conversation and allows it to go by quicker. Winslow doesn't particularly hate it, as long as it is used sparingly and for time purposes rather than a permanent name.

But please - just call her Winslow.

B I R T H D A T E:

20 April 1998.

A G E:

Eighteen.

G E N D E R:

Female.

S E X U A L I T Y:

Homosexual (In the Closet).

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I N - D E P T H A P P E A R A N C E:

Winslow has the face of a sweet yankee girl – often led to believe so because of her pale ass skin and “sophisticated” facial features. Many people sometimes expect Southern Americans to look like downright heathens – weird teeth, dirty blonde hair, and big wide smiles. What people don’t expect is the pale, smooth skin of Winslow with slight, faint freckles on her cheek and an apathetic face void of strong emotions. Her hair is red (not auburn, not orange, but the natural color of the gingerfolk) and falls in waves to the tip of her stomach. Winslow doesn’t mess with it much – she prefers to just brush it in the morning and not touch it for the rest of the day. Unfortunately,t his means that at the end of the day, her hair ends up being extremely tangled and so she refuses to allow anyone to play with it after noon. She is around 5’6” in height and is rather on the skinny side with an average figure. However, she’s been working on building up the muscle (though it hasn’t been going well, she’s naturally born with a stick figure) and fat in her body. Winslow is quite satisfied with her legs, though, as they are long and she likes to show them off in jean shorts sometimes. Her voice is rather light and lilting, with a slight Southern accent that she likes to hide (though it slips out at the most inopportune times). Winslow smells like strawberries and ink.

C L O T H I N G S T Y L E:

Winslow has three defaults: casual, party, and nice.

When it comes to overall, Winslow hates wearing makeup as she often forgets that she put it on and rubs her eye – however, from time to time, she’ll wear a bit of foundation and eye makeup. Though, she is rather liberal with her use of chapstick. Because Winslow is proud of her legs, she tends to show them off in jean shorts time to time. However, for the most part, her style is rather simple – jeans, tanktops or t-shirts, a jacket or something over top. At teenage outings, though, Winslow likes to wear a wide range of clothes – but she enjoys showing her legs on such days. Typically, when wanting to dress to impress, Winslow is all about the color black and form fitting dresses and skinny jeans with a nice leather jacket. Whenever the situation calls for nice appropriate clothes, Winslow typically wears “preppy” clothes – nice skirts, sweaters, jewel-necklined dresses, and casual golden jewelry.

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Q U I R K S , O D D I T I E S & H A B I T S:

• Tends to apply and reapply chapstick as a nervous tick.
• Yes, she is....a vaper. When reading, Winslow typically vapes due to it making her feel like Bilbo Baggins in the beginning of The Hobbit.
• When extremely annoyed, Winslow tends to make an exaggerated disgusted, sardonic face.
• Cosplays and LARPs (shhhh, no one can know!).
• Her Southern accent becomes really prominent when she's upset.

L I K E S:

• Cryptography.
• Books (Favorites: The Lord of the Rings series and the Prose and Poetic Edda).
• Martial Arts (Practices Muay Thai).
• Watching boxing matches.
• Violin music (though she doesn't play).
• French Fries w/ sweet and sour sauce.
• Milo's Sweet Tea.

D I S L I K E S:

• Dogs (Small ones especially).
• Television (It's really boring to her).
• Coffee.
• Soda.
• Morons (though she pretends to be one).
• Pretentious pricks (if you say whilst she will shove a stapler down your goddamn throat).
• Religious people (including athiests that like to stuff their thoughts down your throat).

F E A R S:

• Small dogs.
• Abandonment.
• Suffocation / Claustrophobia.

P E R S O N A L I T Y:

♦ Scholarly ♦ Temperamental ♦ Demiurgic ♦ Morose ♦

Winslow has two personalities, as confusing as it is: a faux personality she shows to others and a genuine personality reserved only for herself and perhaps a close friend or two.

It’s easy for others to describe her – Winslow is incapable of creating a three-dimensional second personality, after all, so there are cracks. When others see her, they see the typical jock. Her mind seems empty to others; Winslow projects an uncaring stupidity so others don’t question her or bother her with unneeded arguments or discussions. She comes off as a complete meathead with interests in nothing but boxing, wrestling, and martial arts. In order to embrace such a persona, Winslow often incorporates a seventh grade humor “that’s what she said” and crude, yet misinformed, sex jokes. Winslow tends to act arrogantly and impulsively to subscribe herself to the jock stereotype.

The only real trait in the faux personality is her hot-headed, temperamental nature. Winslow doesn’t take well to other people wronging her and her temper has a tendency to get incredibly hot in an incredible amount of time. She is incapable of letting it simmer, but instead lashes out the moment she is angered. Winslow reacts in most situations aggressively – when sad or upset, Winslow would rather respond with heated anger and sharp words than depraved tears and desolation.

Other than her love of martial arts and temperament, the rest of such a projected personality is utterly fake – almost hilariously so. If people knew, many would ask why she pretends as such. Is it to keep her heart guarded? Is it out of a pure need to manipulate others? No, it’s much more simple than that. Winslow is a complete and unsalvageable nerd.

While she acts like a total moron, Winslow is rather educated. Intelligent or smart is the wrong word to use in regards to her because she is not naturally so – her level of education is the fruit of labor. Winslow is a scholarly woman who likes to spend her time learning and thoroughly picking a part every bit of information she can find. If Winslow wishes to have an opinion on a certain subject, she researches that subject till her fingers are cramping and cut! In addition, she is a rather thorough person, overall. Winslow diligently and carefully sorts through all the facts, assesses all the evidence, and measures all the risks before doing anything. As a nice compliment to such a knowledge-seeking personality, Winslow often has to have a dedicated and diligent mind. Matter of fact, Winslow is one of the hardest working people her friends have ever known – she will work herself to death if she could (and many of her friends back home predicted that she will become a workaholic in the future). She will spend hours making sure she reaches her goals and often has to be dragged away from whatever she is currently working on. However, she has plenty of time to do work considering she is intensely introverted and will become emotionally distressed if around a group of people for more than a few hours at a time.

Of course she is not without her bad traits. Other than being temperamental, Winslow is rather apathetic towards other’s plights when it does not directly involve her. She tends to live life with a lack of vigor, only going through the motions. She is rather bored with the modern world and spends her head tucked between the pages of a fantasy book entailing magical adventures. As it is, though she holds many opinions, she has no care of arguing for them or changing others’ minds to see it from her side. Furthermore, Winslow lives an inhibited life – tightly controlled with careful calculations and a life of no risks. Winslow is a control freak that has to have everything in between her fingers because surprises make her extremely nervous and being taken aback is unsettling for her. She enjoys knowing that everything is orderly and predictable – which, perhaps, is why her life is so boring, because she knows everything that is going to happen. Unfortunately for those who do know her, they will often have to deal with her rather morose personality. Winslow is a moody teenager who will have moments of melancholy and somedays cannot seem to get out of bed. She is rather pessimistic and has a hard time seeing the good in anything!

But, what she’s really ashamed of, is her level of geekiness. Winslow embraces the life of a fangirl – she must know everything about the things she enjoys and, opposite of her personality, becomes rather passionate and excited about her literary wanderings and movie choices. She overanalyzes books and uses such forms of entertainments as an escape from her daily life. Cosplay is a natural step in life for her and she could talk hours, days, years about hobbits and house elves.

B A C K G R O U N D:

Life started out simple enough for Winslow. She was born in a small town near Mobile, Alabama to parents that have never left the state, let alone the country. They grew up small town, and lived small town. Winslow’s parents were high school sweethearts that made the mistake of marrying too soon and grew up hating each other. Around nineteen years old, supposedly Winslow’s mother gave birth to her which ruined her dreams of going to college and obtaining a career (or maybe it was her lack of motivation and a ready excuse that allowed Winslow’s mother to settle). Winslow’s mother settled as a waitress while Winslow’s father made money through his mechanic career. As the marriage went on, Winslow’s mother and father realized they hated each other and divorced like most high school sweethearts.

Of course, that’s just the story that Winslow believed. In truth, the mother who raised her was not, in fact, her mother. As is, Winslow’s father had an affair during their marriage with a distraught and equally married goddess. Athena had been lamenting over her failing marriage with her husband while Winslow’s father had been ranting about his wife’s laziness. Alcohol led to activities and activities led to the duo reserving a nearby motel room. When Winslow’s father came clean about the affair, the marriage fell even further apart, but they stayed together. They stayed together even when Winslow was dropped off on their doorstep with a note, only a vague idea of who her mother really is – they certainly didn’t think it was the goddess Athena. They stayed together for a long time, until Winslow was eight, but raising another woman’s child must have taken its toll as well as the hate they started to bear for each other.

After the divorce, Winslow’s father picked up other recreational activities to fill the time that, before, had been used to argue with his wife. Such activities being alcohol, sex, and drugs. Though Winslow knew her father loved her, her father slowly was engulfed by addiction and soon loss functionality in regular day life. He was fired from his job after coming blackout drunk and he could no longer support his daughter. They lived day to day on the small amount of money that Winslow’s grandfather sent in. When Winslow was twelve, she got a job at a restaurant where she was paid under the table (tax free, thankfully) because she was too young. However, when Winslow’s father attempted to pick up Winslow from school while intoxicated, the school’s administration called child services. In court, Winslow’s father was seen as unfit as Winslow’s guardian and his daughter was put into the foster system.

For a couple of months, Winslow bounced around in the foster system – house to house. However, when Winslow’s father did not clean up his act, months turned to years and Winslow became a teenager. Of course, the two kept in touch as much as they could and had supervised visits; but it wasn’t enough for the lonely Winslow. She grew up roughly, always feeling unwanted by her mother, father, and all the foster families that took her in and turned her back over. Eventually, Winslow came to the Smith family. They were a generic, suburban family that was taking in a foster child for the first time. However, Winslow grew on them and they on her, so they stayed together for quite a while (they would have adopted her, but Winslow didn’t want that because of her hope of her mother coming back for her). They bought her a computer, gave her the nicest clothes they could, and even sent her to nice schools. Maybe it's because they are so good to her that Winslow hasn't come out of the closet yet; she's afraid that the extremely conservative family will send her back like everyone else has.

When Winslow was sixteen, she was approached by a woman while in public with her friends. Though Winslow was reluctant at first, she indulged the woman in sitting down and talking about her family – granted, the woman said she was a friend of her father’s who wanted to check in on her. They exchanged phone numbers with the promise of having a dinner soon in order to talk about Winslow’s father. It would be only a week later that Winslow would get a text message. While the woman, whose named was Athena (while Winslow thought it was an odd name, she didn’t really question it considering she’s known people with odder names), wished to meet at her home, Winslow was wary because of Stranger Danger. Instead, Winslow planned a meeting at a restaurant that was almost guaranteed to be crowded on a Friday evening. At said restaurant, Athena revealed Winslow’s true parentage – though it took some convincing, Winslow eventually came to the realization that her whole life was a lie.

Winslow and Athena began to visit each other in secret in order to get to know each other. Winslow even told Athena of her true nerdy nature. They grew close over a couple of months and eventually Athena offered to adopt Winslow and take her to live with her. Winslow was conflicted over the offer – because on one hand, Athena was her true mother and she’d finally found someone who wanted her, but on the other hand Winslow felt as if it was a betrayal to her foster family. She thought over it for two weeks before coming to the conclusion that she couldn’t do that to the current family housing her, because they were her family when she had no family, and Winslow declined Athena’s offer. However, Athena still wanted her to hone her skills, and managed to convince Winslow to attend Olympus Academy. Winslow’s upcoming year at the academy will be her second year, having first attended when she was seventeen.

E X T R A:

my favorite god is my ass.

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G O D L Y P A R E N T:

Athena.

R E L A T I O N S H I P W I T H G O D L Y P A R E N T:

Winslow and Athena have an amicable relationship. Though they only recently have gotten to know each other, Athena is making an effort in getting to know Winslow. Despite Athena's interest in becoming Winslow's legal guardian, Winslow believes it is too late for them to be a family and instead wishes to stay with her foster family.

G O D L Y A B I L I T I E S:

Gravity:

Due to Athena's prowess in architecture and knowledge in physics, Winslow demonstrates slight ability in manipulating gravity. It is nothing extremely powerful, only that she is able to control the balance of objects. For instance, Winslow could use her powers to walk across a tightrope, but she could not use her powers to stop something in midair or to make someone float.

All-Seeing Vision:

Like owls, Winslow is able to have a total 360 degree sight. However, she typically doesn't like to use this power as it can give her a headache after a while.

Aegis Summon:

Winslow can summon Aegis, the goat skinned shield with the head of a gorgon on it. However, Winslow can only obtain Aegis for an hour and even then the abilities of the gorgon head are temporary. If she were to turn someone to stone, it would only last for around thirty minutes.

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Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]

Summary of Honey's post:

There might be people - Honey: "fuck"

Olympus Academy: The School For the Demigods [High-Casual, Slice-of-Life Roleplay]

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^{LOCATION: CAR → DORMS (4-G)
INTERACTION: “the clingy one” via text @lovely complex; “dickface” via text @McHaggis; mention of Dustyn @MissCapnCrunch; mention of Abe @Altered Tundra}

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Fuck, Honey hated Utah. Hot air breathed into the truck’s open window, warming the back of his neck and making the vehicle seem entirely too small. Honey was from Florida, he was used to heat, but not like this. The sun felt dry and harsh; it caused his back to itch and Honey lazily stretched back into the truck’s seat, rubbing it against the uncomfortable material of the driver’s seat to scratch it. It was nearly nine in the morning and Honey had been laying in his truck for the past two hours, watching as student’s passed by him. He was reclined backwards, only the top of his head and his eyes peering from the window, and so most students didn’t even see him as they stopped to fix their teeth in his mirror.

“Fuck.” Honey mumbled, glaring at the car door as if that would make his problem go away. First days were so annoying, beyond annoying, and Honey was stalling from joining the rest of the students at Olympus Academy. That, and his ass was numb from driving for thirty-five hours with only one stop for rest. Honey’s pale hands scrubbed at his face, wishing the greasy sluggish feeling away – the feeling that one gets after a too-long, unexpected nap or when one has been half-awake for too long, not quite asleep but not quite awake.

The Southern boy’s hand twitched and stuttered when he flicked the lock on his door open, mentally preparing himself to have to deal with people. As if God – or perhaps just Artemis – had answered his prayers, Honey’s shark-encased phone vibrated against his thigh with the generic ringtone that came with it.

From: the clingy one
My brother just compared me to Skye! Ugh. I’m so annoyed. Hey, what room are you!? :D

Honey’s lip quirked upwards in a silent thanks to Cecily. His fingers quickly typed out a response, only half thinking of what he was writing and not really paying attention to anything in particular. Next to him, a car swerved into parking and Dustyn climbed out to inspect herself in the mirror – quickly, Honey ducked down in his seat and prayed to Cecily’s father that he wouldn’t be seen. Not that Dustyn would give him a hard time, she was actually pretty easy to shake as he just had to ignore her and then poof! she’d leave, but he still needed a moment of peace and silence before dealing with the outside world. Honey hit send on his phone and hoped that Cecily would text him back real quick.

To:the clingy one
drag him. rm 4-G

Honey blew air out of his mouth, tapping his phone against his leg as if that would make the text message come quicker. When five minutes came and go, Honey had opened and closed his weather app no less than eight times (79 °F, 46 % Humidity, Clear skies) and had taken five separate pictures of that one annoying fat cat in Neko Atsume (why did it always have to eat all the food? that sashimi stuff was expensive). The fifteen minute mark came and Honey reluctantly opened the door, shouldering his bag as his booted foot stepped onto the concrete. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“You fucking kidding me?” Honey grunted, slamming Dorothy’s door shut and fishing the phone out of his zip-up hoodie.

From: dickface
u+me sprtn race ill fite u x

Honey stopped walking, his feet planting on the sidewalk. The worst thing was getting texts from Laurel Price – who got his phone number Lord knows how – not just because they were so antagonistic but because it was like trying to read hieroglyphics with a morse code book. Okay, so: you plus me sprinting(?) race I’ll fight you and that insufferable x thing he does. What sprinting race? Honey stared at the text message for a good half a second before he realized it was supposed to be Spartan. God, this hurt his head. Should he even reply? Honey didn’t want Laurel to be encouraged by him texting back, but there was a competitive itch that Honey damn well couldn’t ignore.

To: dickface
doesnt it take more effort to type like a dipshit?

Honey began to walk again. The dorm building loomed ahead of him and people were milling in and out casually, suitcases and boxes filling their arms. Honey stood on the edge of confliction, wanting to go in and sleep in his bed, but not wanting to chance any encounters with someone he knew. Honey opened up his phone again and sent one more message:

To: dickface
ill destroy you

With conviction come on Honey, you little wuss, Laurel would have no problem doing this – what’s the worst that could happen Honey pressed his hands against the cold glass of the dorm building and pushed it open. Just in case anybody he knew was lurking around, Honey ducked his head down with his hood up and slipped into the back of the elevator. Said elevator was practically empty except for three or four people and Honey mentally cheered: you did it you little shit! And then someone called for them to hold and somehow Honey ended up squished between a titan of a person and Dionysus boy who spelled like vomit.

To make matters worse: Cecily, the bitch who could have saved him from this hell with a simple text message, and her brother slipped into the elevator. Honey shrugged his shoulder up and scrunched his body down, hoping she wouldn’t chance a glance behind and see him. The elevator jolted upward and when they hit the first floor, Honey felt himself grow more and more uncomfortable. An Aphrodite girl (she had to be an Aphrodite, being that beautiful) was pressed against his back, sandwiched between him and the fucking titan and it incredibly uncomfortable. Honey blamed Cecily – if she had texted him, he could’ve gotten onto an empty elevator.

Out of spite, Honey reached as far as he could and pinched Cecily’s backside before quickly withdrawing – he pointedly ignored the sharp glance from vomit-breath whose mouth was breathing down on Honey. Cecily deserved it.

Honey lingered in the elevator when everyone left, waiting till it was empty before he surged forward with his bag and wandered down the hall. He walked with his shoulder pressed against the wall, trying to maintain a distance from the students rushing back and forth up and down the corridor. It was with relief that he entered his dorm.

Honey didn’t dawdle – he barely spared the other room a glance, but instead immediately went for the room in the back, farthest away from the entrance. The bed looked untouched and everything was silent – his roommate wasn’t here, thank god. But there came another dilemma: should Honey risk an awkward encounter now or leave and come back when his dorm mate was settled for the awkward encounter?

“Fuck.” Honey fell onto the bed, “Someone put me out of my misery.”