Phloem

Down the Rabbit Hole Again

I'll have my sheet up soon-ish, just need to finish up the personality portion and find a picture. :Y

Down the Rabbit Hole Again

I'm interested. Probably gonna take the March Hare, if possible. c:

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire Interest Check.

I'm in, as well. Probably some kind of Ironborn or Lyseni pirate for me. :D

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

"Yeah, see you 'round." Gaspard muttered a quiet farewell to Faris, shooting her a sideways glance as she left. He supposed she was pretty cool. It was more than refreshing to meet an Ares kid who wasn't dumber than a sack of bricks. But then again, that was probably just a stereotype. Briefly glancing down at his drink, Gaspard noticed the swirling liquid in his cup was barely even cold now, and he made a vague expression of disgust. No one liked a lukewarm drink, and he'd probably had enough for the night, anyway. The last thing he wanted to do was to throw up his lunch. Wait, did he even have lunch? He couldn't recall, but he didn't really want to find out. Disposing of his drink in a nearby trash bag, Gaspard began to make his way back to the Hecate cabin, after he grabbed a bite, of course. His stomach had been complaining the entire night, and the only thing that could satisfy it was the sweet, sweet embrace of BBQ.

The night air was still, as most of the campers had already returned to their cabins - even the party-goers to nurse their already-burgeoning hangovers. The only noise Gaspard could hear other than the crunch of grass under his feet was a muffled conversation amongst a couple stragglers. The son of Hecate was just a few paces away from the familiar, stone cabin when he suddenly felt a faint skittering under his skin. It took him a second, but he quickly recognised it as some sort of summoning spell. But, before he had time to do anything about it, or even make sense of the situation, a dark cloud descended upon him, coiling itself around his entire being like a snake. The grassy ground seemed to fall away under his feet, and the cabin before him was quickly swallowed up by darkness. Gaspard was just about to write this off as the work of some drunk Hades kid, but when the smoke finally cleared up, his suspicions were quickly put to rest.

Gaspard wasn't alone in the chasm, not by a long shot. In fact, he estimated that there were at least five other people down here with him. Who or what brought them all here, he couldn't say, but it was clearly the work of a powerful entity. Not even the children of the Big Three would be able to accomplish a feat of this magnitude. He vaguely wondered if one of the gods were behind this - if they were, they sure had a fucked up sense of humour. Of all the days they could've picked to mess with him... Right now, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and conk out for twelve hours, but clearly, that wasn't going to happen.

"Anyone know what the hell's goin' on here?" Gaspard questioned no one in particular, sauntering up towards where most of the other demigods were gathered. All he wanted now were answers, and then preferably a way out of this mess. He wasn't in nearly the right mood for this.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

With a tequila sunrise in one hand and a piña colada in the other, Gaspard started to make his way back. He didn't even notice Connor had taken his leave of the party until he saw that Faris was no longer in the company of him. Great, now what was he gonna do with two drinks? He definitely wasn't going to finish them all by himself. Sure, getting completely wasted sounded fun, but the last thing he wanted was to look like a complete idiot in front of everybody - getting sloppy drunk just wasn't his style. Plus, the hangover in the morning would be killer. And so, Gaspard offered Faris one of the drinks, noticing that her own had already been depleted.

"Last drink for the night?"

Maybe it was because he was more than a little buzzed, but Gaspard hadn't quite caught the subtle shift in the girl's inflection. Normally, he'd notice such an indication in a heartbeat, courtesy of a lifetime of practice. It was something of a survival mechanism - after all, he needed to know when his dad and stepmother were in a particularly bad mood. Then again, sobriety was so passé, and he didn't have to worry about those two anymore. Alcohol was only a temporary escape, but an escape, nonetheless. Gaspard almost laughed at the suddenly depressing train of thought. Where did all that come from? He was glad he didn't just blurt all that out, though, because it would certainly have made for an awkward moment.

Looking around, Gaspard noticed that more and more people were starting to leave. Seemed like it was just ten minutes ago when the party was just beginning. Maybe he wasn't as bored as he thought, or maybe it was just the multiple rum and cokes that made time fly by. Well, whatever it was, he realised that starting a fire would be pointless if no one was around to see it. In Gaspard's books, unwitnessed disobedience was just wasteful. He had to admit, though, it'd be quite the anticlimax. After everything that he said, was he really just going to call it quits now?

It was a tough decision, but not committing arson won out in the end. All of a sudden, the idea of getting nailed over the head by Mr. D with his turkey leg club didn't sound too appealing to Gaspard. Especially because he was currently a tad inebriated. Besides, he'd be throwing himself under the bus for something that wasn't even his idea in the first place. Gaspard had nearly forgotten about his original plan of getting Faris to set everything on fire, so that he wouldn't have to do it himself.

"Mo chagren, cher. I'm afraid you're gonna hafta light this place up yourself." The familiar lilt sloshing out despite himself as he shrugged, a not-so apologetic grin on his face. For now, all he cared about was getting something to eat. He'd been doing nothing but drink all night, and his stomach was audibly starting to complain. Shifting his gaze from the swirling liquid in his cup back to Faris, he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm jus' gonna go get somethin' to eat. You want anythin'?"

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Aw shit, Gaspard got plaaaayed.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

"Wow. Wise words, Connor. Thank you for your input." Gaspard said in an even a tone as possible, nodding sagely. Though the effect might've been somewhat broken by the smug grin on his lips. He found himself musing on the sudden role reversal - weren't Hermes kids supposed to be the ones causing all sorts of trouble? Then again, he was an Athena legacy. That probably had something to do with it. But, surely he'd be able to find some way to wheedle Connor into going along with his plan, right? After all, what was a campsite without a huge, roaring campfire? Oh, and s'mores too, of course. He was getting a little hungry, and he didn't fancy gorging himself on the roasted boar. Briefly snuffing out the fireball, Gaspard turned back to Faris, replying in the affirmative when asked whether his name was French.

"Come on, what's Mr. D gonna do?" A derisory snort escaped from Gaspard, as he imagined the camp director waving around a giant turkey leg. Of all the gods they could've chosen to be in charge, they chose the one whose powers included turning literally any liquid into booze. You gotta admit, though. It was a pretty kick-ass ability to have, albeit completely useless in a fight. Maybe Mr. D could turn people's blood to wine like Jesus. But then again, that was pretty far-fetched. Tossing back his cup for another gulp of rum and coke, Gaspard rolled his eyes at Connor's apprehension. Gods, this was taking so much more effort than originally planned. The son of Hecate was tempted to just give up right there and then. Maybe tonight was destined to be completely and utterly boring. Although, Gaspard thought, he could just ignore Mr. D'Finn altogether and get this show on the road.

"So you can build me a fire?"

Pushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes, he flashed a sharp-edged smile at Faris. "Sure thing, cher. Jus' lemme get another round of 'dese." Gaspard shook the now-empty cup in his hand. More and more of his Cajun twang was slipping out now, undoubtedly because of the alcohol. But he'd only had two of these, so that was a little weird. Maybe he put just a bit too much rum in there. Who knows? It was all in the past now, though, so he didn't really care too much. Brushing past Connor, Gaspard resolved to bring him back a drink, too. Hopefully, it'll loosen him up a bit. How anyone could spend their whole time at a party doing nothing but worry was beyond him.

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

Went on a day trip yesterday but I'll post soon. :U

Bioshock - Left Behind

I'll put something up in the morning after I wake up since it's about 2 a.m where I am. x.x

[This Roleplay Is Closed] - Camp Half-Blood (Demigod RP)

"If this is your idea of fun..." Rolling his eyes, Gaspard let out a quiet huff of disappointment as a familiar face spoiled his fun. What was so bad about a fire? They were in a camp full of demigods. If worse comes to worst, they could just get the Poseidon kids to put out the fire, or something. You'd think that as a Hermes kid, Connor would surely be up for getting up to some mischief. Instead, he seemed satisfied with having nothing to do but drink and dance all night. What a drag, right? He wasn't going to protest too much, though. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he just didn't feel like mustering up his trademark sarcasm, at the moment. The son of Hecate recited smoothly in his Cajun drawl, as he had done so many times before, "Whatever you say, Connor."

Dark eyes scanned the area for anything of interest, unfortunately finding none. Man, this fire was starting to sound better and better. Maybe he'd just ignore everything that Connor said and light the whole damned place up. Before he could follow that train of thought, however, Gaspard's attention was brought back to the conversation at hand. The dark-haired demigod found himself nodding along with everything she said, even letting out a small chuckle of amusement as her comment about marshmallows. Ares kids sure were something, even more so when they got drunk off their asses.

"Reckless is always good. I'm Gaspard. My friend here can introduce himself." Gaspard grinned an crafty grin, making some sort of vague hand gesture towards Connor with his free hand. The son of Hecate had sort of a clinical curiousity as to how far he could push the girl before she really set the place alight. Maybe all she needed was a little nudge. Remembering the spell as best as he could, Gaspard muttered a quiet chant under his breath before snapping his fingers. Almost immediately, the tips of his fingers erupted in blue fire, rising for just a second before diminishing into a flaming sphere about the size of a ping-pong ball. It looked just like real fire, apart from the fact that it was all an illusion. If one was observant enough, they would notice that the sphere gave off no heat whatsoever. With his control of the Mist, Gaspard could easily engulf the area around him in imaginary flames. But for now, hopefully this was enough to provoke a reaction.