Calling all Demigods! discussion

"Fine."

Spitting out the word like it was venemous, Aureline tore her hand from his shoulder and stared out to sea-- it seemed as if it would crackle with ice under her freezing gaze.

First... the unimaginable horror. And as if that wasn't enough, now this?

Devon's feet pressed into the edge, and he shook his head. He had cliff dove once before, didn't really give it a second thought. Another breath escaped his lips, and left them half open. He brought his hands above his head, eyes searching for a patch of dark water. He pressed his feet further into the edge, leaning forward.

"Sienara"

"You bastard."

In a flash Aureline was up, hands grabbing the back of his shirt, probably scratching him in the process, and a massive, freezing gale of wind threw them both back from the edge.

Her eyes were wide and terrified.

"You bastard," she repeated, and she began to cry.

Devon let out a cry of frustration. Why do you want me to suffer? He moaned, turning to face her tears, honestly to damned to care about his fear anymore. "Why? You care about me, but I live in pain. You might be confused but I'm not. If I never existed you'd be fine, I just want to do the honors. Don't act like you didn't try too." He raged, his patience running close to none. Each tears she shed was like a full force tsunami, but he'd face twice the power if she'd just let him go.

[It's spelled sayonara, BTW. xD]

Tears froze on Aureline's face before melting again, a split-secnd of ice on the snowy capped planes of her glacially beautiful face.

She couldn't stop.

She had never been a crier.

She could not stop.

"How would I be fine? You taught me to love myself, and I may forget that sometimes. But you did. You taught me that the world isn't a Siberian desert. I forget. But you did.

And if you cared," she said suddenly, batting away the tears with an angry hand, "if you cared about me, you wouldn't."

"Well I guess this is a game of who cares more." He muttered, digging his nails into his palm. He leaned against the tree, fingering the bark absentmindedly. He stared at the sky, watching the clouds with nothing left to say to her. He thought plenty, though
((gtg))

[OK. :( Bye!]

"This has and never will be a game," Aureline said simply through her tears.

"Devon."

She stopped in front of him, put her face close to his, put her hands on his shoulders, was insistent. The tears on her cheeks glimmered.

"Don't. Please."

With that, she turned to mount Brisa and disappear in a gust of wind over the edge of the cliff.

"Don't what?" He called after her, but already knew. It wouldn't kill me

[It wouldn't kill him to kill himself? o.o --Whim]

The air lifted dead grass and fallen leaves from the trail as the powerful gusts of air coming from Brisa's wings cleared her landing. The confused Phobos boy rode on the back of the magnificent animal, carefully landing her on the trail.

Silver robes were a cool silk against Petra’s skin, wearing the ceremonial dress of a girl befit for the ranking of Hera’s high priestess. Sandals in one hand, hair tumbling in intricate braids down her back, she picked her way along the trail, taking in the view of the sea that reflected the light in those pools of blue. Ever softly smiling, ever so quietly surprised (at the very beauty of life and living, it seemed), Petra was enjoying the harmonious beauty provided her surroundings when the shudder of huge wings beating in the air, the tremble of large hooves trotting against the ground tore her from her daydream world.

Face turning milky white, hair, freckles and eyes standing out in a stark contrast of colour, Petra nervously flitted to the side of the trail to watch the rider pass by, the trees obscuring her view of the person on the grey pegasus’ back.

She loved nature. She loved animals. All animals... except for her undying phobia of horses.

Devon kept trotting for a small distance, bringing Brisa to a slow receeding stop. He kicked up from the footholds, swinging over to the ground landing on two lose tennis shoes. He reached in his pocket, petting the pegasus as he dug around for a sugar cube.

He wore his usual summer apparell, black basketball shorts and a t shirt. His hair was messily hung in front of his eyes, and they danced with the illusion of smoke as he looked up at the sun, holding up the slightly disformed sugar cube to the light.

Holding it out to Brisa, unaware of the priestess at a short distance, Devon waited as the pegasus sniffed his palm.

Impatience—not usually seen on this sweet-mannered Hera priestess’ features—made Petra’s lips press into a thin line.

Had it gone yet? Was the way safe?

She had no idea why horses scared her so—she loved all animals and nurtured them but an old memory from toddlerhood had Petra shivering all over again. No physical scars showed from that encounter—the one where she’d almost been trampled by an aggressive Pegasus—but the mental ones were there, all right.

Leaves rustling as the silver-clad girl leaned forward to check if the way was clear, Petra’s eyes alighted on a rather familiar figure. Devon. The Phobos boy-- the boy. As the sun glanced off the burning blue-grey of his eyes she felt another shiver arise, one that intensified as she moved her line of sight to the terrifyingly huge and muscled Pegasus. Something about that combination: Devon, a boy who was rumoured to be dangerous but who had never touched a hair on her head personally, and the creature from her nightmares, was held responsible for the tightening of arms around her slight waist.

The rough tounge of Brisa scooped up the sugar cube, and Devon smiled as he pet the creature affectionately. His smile faded, but he wasn't in such a bad mood as he wiped off his hand on his shorts, thinking to himself as usual. No emotion displayed on his face, though he was actually being quite thoughtul.

He thought of that one line of Tell-Tale Heart that stuck in his head. "His eye would trouble me no more."
Such a simple line. Why had he killed the man? His eye bothered him. Why do I hurt bystanders? They bother me.


To think, that one visit to the Grotto. A visit I have made many times, has changed my train of thought. This thought was greeted by a pleasant mood.

Now the eternally shy Petra was torn between two very different desires: to greet Devon or to run as far, far away as was possible from the terrifying creature. Eyes huge and very blue in her milky-pale face, they flitted between the huge winged horse and the son of Phobos, indecision evident.

The beast stomped its hoof, whinnying, and Petra sucked in a breath—a low hiss in the stolid summer air—as she shrank in perspective and size, memories drawing her back, and the beast turned even bigger, its coat darkening to a midnight black.

Four-year old Petra Greville, small, stately, and serene in the spangled priestess robes made especially to fit her, the newest priestess yet. The older priestesses took great care of her. Though orphaned at a young age she was not missing in any maternal figures in her family—for that was what camp was to her, and the women devoted to the goddess of family and marriage even more so.

They’d promised her a ride on a Pegasus, the incredible, magical beasts she’d only ever heard or read about in the books and lessons she’d been given. It had just been her fourth birthday and she’d been dressed for the first time in formal robes.

Heart humming with excitement, the redheaded child skipped to the stables. She could hear the whinnying and neighing from inside and the smile on her plump little face was enough to shine on the sun alone. Then that huge, frightful thing had come bursting out from the stables, a young boy on its back, a camper, yelling with exuberance. From his seat on the wild Pegasus he probably hadn’t seen Petra, but she’d seen him. And his horse. Muscles rippled under a shining black coat, dangerously large and sharp hooves that thundered on the ground. It had swerved towards her then and she had been paralyzed with fear.

She’d woken up three hours later with bruises and a sprained ankle, and burst into tears when Chiron had come walking in the infirmary to see how the young charge was doing. Needless to say, ever since then the phobia had remained as strong as the first day.

Now more than a decade later, Petra stood motionless, half-hidden by emerald leaves, worrying away at her bottom lip, brow furrowed. She shifted—a twig under her foot snapped in two—and the pegasus’ head turned to her.

Devon stiffened at the sound, irritation echoed as an afterthought in his mind. Really? Someone really has to be here when I'm actually in an OK mood? He thought angrily, a hand comming up and sweeping some hair out of his eyes. After a moment he followed Brisa's gaze, his own icy cold blue ones finding the gaze of terrified blue ones.

There she stood there, thoughts raced through Devon's mind, diminishing all the irritation from before. Why is she scared? Me? Here his brow furrowed as he stared at the priestess, wrapping his hand around Brisa's reins nervously.

Yet, she's so... Confusion rolled through his mind. Beautiful. His mind went over every detail of her, the intricate firey braids of hers, her silvery robes, the delicate porcelain tone of her skin. His gaze softened, but did he dare a smile? What if it came out more of a grimace?

[*fiery]

Speak! Say something! Act normal, Petra thought, eyes darting from side to side as she stepped out completely from the wood. Leaves tugged at her hair as if to draw her back.

"H-h-h-hi," she got out finally, overcoming the incessant stammering by fixing her gaze to Devon's eyes. She saw a calmer version of what she'd seen before-- that she should be afraid, she should be pained by the son of Phobos' eyes. But she wasn't. She couldn't.

A stamp from the pegasus drew her eyes there and she forced an attempt at a smile. A braid of curly red hair trembled at the side of her face.

Devon tilted his chin nonchalantly in a greeting. "Hello." He replied, watching her cautiously. Why is she scared? Maybe she heard about...Well she has every right to be scared. He thought, and cleared his throat to speak.

"H-how are you doing?"

The stammer tore herself from her lips, half from nervous anxiousness at the fear of the winged creature, half in an attempt to get over her true curiousity. Yes, she'd heard tales of this Phobos boy.

[BBL]

(K)

Devon didn't answer her question, just let out a sigh of slight frustration of not being able to figure her out. "Are you scared of me?" He asked bluntly, staring at her with raised eyebrows, awaiting the answer. Truthfully he didn't want her to be, but if she was then so be it.

That milky-white brow furrowed, three wrinkles creasing the smooth skin as Petra tilted her head in confusion. Her fear of the huge animal was forgotten temporarily as she puzzled over that. However she thought over it anyway, eyes trailing the deeper blue of the sky as she pondered the question to give him an honest response.

"No," she said firmly in her quiet voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you seem...." Devon cleared his throat, tightening the reins around his fist nervously. "Scared." He finished, avoiding her gaze. Why am I embarassed? He wondered to himself.

"Oh."

A hand fluttered to rest on her collarbone; Petra's eyes flickered to the horse's dark ones and she shivered, taking a step back.

"It's not you," she managed, trembling and drawing her arms tight around her waist.

"It's the... the pegasus."

Surprised, Devon raised his eyebrows.

Looking at the magical horse, he tugged on the reins slightly. Brisa took a few steps toward him, and he glanced at her.

Then he glanced at Petra, but his eyes lingered. "She won't hurt you." He coaxed gently.

It wasn't a matter of the pegasus hurting her, for in her mind, it already had. Petra's face drained of any blood as she stared in wide-eyed, bewildered shock at the pegasus. When it got nearer she let out an uncontrolled, tiny whimper and buried her face in her hands.

"I should probably go," she said from out her trembling fingers, peeking up a big blue eye at Devon.

[KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT]

((SORRYYY!!))

Devon opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. But I really don't want you to go. He thought to himself, biting his lower lip out of habit. He let go of the reins, trusting Brisa not to run away. Holding up his hands he tried a second attempt at speech, "Not yet. Please, is there anything I could do so you could stay?" Squinting, he thought Ehh, you idiot Devon.

The smallest of smiles graced Petra’s cherub mouth as she tilted her head to survey Devon. But that was quickly subdued as the Pegasus caught her eye again and sent her heart into a beating frenzy.

It was looking straight at her.

Trembling, Petra tore her eyes away from its menacing gaze and fixed them on Devon instead. “I—I can’t, not with—” Those pale blue eyes flickered back to the horse and Petra swallowed, clenching her fists at her sides. Gargantuan apologies were in the depths of her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just so frightening,” she said in a very small voice.

"Don't be sorry." He replied, shrugging slightly. What should I expect?. He snatched the reins of the pegasus, clicking his tounge at the creature. "Brisa." He coaxed, slowly proceeding towards her.

Gently petting her, he glanced back at Petra. Carefully thinking out his options, he coughed to clear his throat. "Well.." Starting awkwardly, he blinked a few times to clear his thoughts. "Catch you... later?" His tone was suggestive, eye brows raised expectantly.

“As soon as you’ve put her away,” Petra complied, mouth set in a childish half-pout-half-smile. “I’ll stay here.”

She stared at the creature whose eyes still hadn’t left hers—a strange, pearly kind of gray, its wings huge and powerful, the muscles rippling and clearly defined under the silvery pelt. Brisa.

“It’s a nice name,” she offered quietly before edging a little more away, her hands still those clenched, tiny fists at her sides. Still she did her best to be patient and calm, giving Devon one of her soft and sweet smiles before setting down the path to the cliff, the breeze stirring her silver robes around her form.

"Um.." Devon watched her trail away, blinking slightly surprised.

He looked at Brisa, as if she had the answer. "What was that about?" He asked her, but then chuckled to himself. I'm no Posiden, I can't hear you. He thought to himself.

Pulling himself up onto the pegasus, he whispered in her ear. "Looks like our ride is cut short today." And with that he started to fly back to the stables.

((SHould he come back?))

[LOL aw, he sacrificed the ride for Pet!!

If you want ^^]

((Lol. Pet.

Okie))

Maybe around fifteen-ish minutes later, a young man walked up the trail. Hands shoved in pockets, and head hung down to hide a small smile playing on his lips but he was there. Kicking rocks in his path he made way to where Petra sat/whatever she was doing.

Visibly calmer now that the horror had disappeared, Petra looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps (only human, thank the gods) to smile up at Devon. She patted the bit of rock next to her, motioning for him to sit down.

“You came. I’m very sorry for cutting your ride short, then.”

Devon looked up, nodding. "I wouldn't just leave." He replied, moving to sit down next to her. "It's fine, I can go riding whenever I feel like it." Or whenever Aureline doesn't... He smiled at her, something he usually doesn't do.

[Aureline wouldn't be wanting to ride very much nowadays ;)]

Nodding, Petra fingered the hem of her elaborate robes, eying the silvery gossamer strands so as to not look up at the icy-eyed son of Phobos. She knew strangely little about him-- not having any part in camp's gossip as she neither participated nor partook.

"So," came her voice against the quiet backdrop of the soft whistling breeze, "how have you been?"

((Lol, I know))
Peering down at the rocks and dust on the peak, a strange sense of de ja vu rolled through Devon. Shaking it off, He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. Answers flooded his head, like he usually just says 'Dunno' or 'The same'.

"Calmer...most of the time. You?" He replied, his eyes darting from side to side.

It was an unexpected response but one that made Petra's face light up. "Oh, that's good," she enthused with her doll-like smile, twinkling those chips of blue stone at Devon. "Is it the poetry? That helps. And I've been doing... well, a bit restless, I guess. But I'm fine."

Petra's smile made the corners of his lips tug a little bit, not exactly a smile though. "Guess we switched roles for the day." He replied, eyes wandering to the sky. A tone of almost bitter amusement played in his voice, the curtain of dark hair concealing the almost silver blue of his eyes.

"No," Petra said, determined to make the boy smile, "if we'd really switched roles you'd be the one cowering from a pegasus and I'd be the one... riding it." She smiled a little bitter smile and shivered, drawing her arms around her knees and wrapping the gauzy material of the dress tighter around her body.

"Yeah and you'd also be an awkward douche, but you're not me." A smile appeared on his lips, but it probably wasn't the kind Petra wanted. It was bitter, a hint of cold irony there too. Despite the summer weather, Devon looked at her expectantly. "You cold?"

"You're not a douche, Devon," spilled out earnestly before Petra could stop herself-- and even then she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Despite her shaking her head she tightened her arms' hold on her body, drawing the silk tight over the line of her calf as if she wanted to hold herself together with it.

"No, not cold," she replied with a reassuring smile.

You only think that because you don't know me. The thought echoed through his head, making him grimace slightly. He nodded slowly, not sure what to do exactly. Comfort her? Talk? Urgh, he was never very good with people. "Brisa's gone." He commented awkwardly after a few moments.

"Yes, she is," Petra replied, her brow furrowing as she glanced at Devon worriedly.

"I'm sorry, you can resume your ride, it was really very rude of me to interrupt," she apologized, eyes wide as they found his. Again she suppressed an unexplainable shiver as the ice-blue struck a chord within her.

"Naw, I can ride anytime." He denied, wringing his hands. "It's just..." He trailed off. It's just what? Devon wondered. Absent mindedly brushing the hair out of his eyes, I don't know.

"Just... what?"

Petra tilted her head to the side, intricately wrought hair the colour of flame spilling over her silver-clad shoulder as she regarded Devon with those ever-pensive, ever-surprised eyes. He was a mystery to read.

"You're harder to decipher than e.e. cummings," she said with a sigh.

A small smile played on his lips at her comment. "Just..." A small sigh escaped his parted lips, breath warm and hinted of summer berries from earlier that day. Her eyes caught his, and he almost took back in the breath that had just left him from the brilliant blue looking at him.

Finishing his sentence after a moment, he spoke slowly. "Just you're so innocent. I feel like I'm tricking you, masking myself as the prey, rather the predator." He finished, quiet and shameful.

Dustin stuffed his hands in his pockets. How long does she take? He looked around, his golden hair shagging over his blue eyes. He sighed and continued walking. He looked up at the summer trees, Some blooming with apples while others still held onto there blossoms.
A hoot brought him back to reality.
"Sonic!" Dustin called in delight.
The golden halloween owl landed on his shoulder.

The clip-clop of a horse came down the trail.
Anastasia, the rider of the pegasus was now visable.
"Dustin," she greeted him. "When I told you to meet me here, I meant with your pegasus." She smiled as she halted directly in front of him. Anastasia smirked at her boyfriend in amusement.