Calling all Demigods! discussion
Campus Roleplay
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Camp Grounds
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The pain in her stomach had dulled to a small ache, and she managed to nod. What was that about? Her heart thudded nervously. "Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I'm fine. Why?" Her hands gripped his elbows, also wondering if she was going to fall.
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"Uh... No?" She gave him an uncertain look, and the hand holding his fell to embrace her stomach. "Uh, can we sit, though?" The pain was turning into some sort of cramp. A very sharp cramp.
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She nodded dully, sinking to the ground, Ginger eyebrows knit together and creating lines in her porceline skin. "Thanks," she mumbled, wincing at the pain in her stomach.
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Jack lowered himself next to her, rubbing her back with his palm in small circles, clearly concerned. "Emma," He coaxed, tilting her chin up with his finger. "What hurts?"
She leaned into him, her right hand upon his lower chest so she wouldn't fall on him. To try and ease the pain, she had curled her knees up to her chin. It helped some, but it didn't help the sudden back pain. She frowned, worried for Jack brcause he was so worried about her. It made her heart ache when he was feeling anything negative. That included worry. "Just my stomach, and now my back." She said in her best nonchalant-while-in-horrible-pain voice.
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But Emma shook her head quickly. She hated going into the infirmary. It held too many bad, teary memories got her there. Seeing loved ones on the brink if death wasn't something she enjoyed. "It... It'll pass," she soothed gently. Her stomach churned painfully, and she worried that she would vomit on Jack's lap. But she kept hold on her pained stomach, thankfully.
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((Should it be hot?))
((Uh... No. You don't really get a fever with endometriosis. Sometimes you can, but you're mostly either cold, or neautral.)) Emma bit her lip, sensing the torture she was putting him through. "I'll be fine. I'm sure I just have the flu." Her voice was weak with the pain, and she knew that it wasn't a stomach bug. Because stomach aches didn't feel like someone was stabbing you in the stomach with a boning knife.
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"I don't have to have a fever if I'm sick," she pointed out meekly. Another stab in the lower stomach, and her throat closed. The pain was sharp, and all over. But mostly in her lower stomach and lower back.
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Staying curled tightly in a ball inside of Jack's protective arms eased some if the pain. Surpisingly, by a lot. Tears pricked her eyes, and she stubbornly blinked them away. She hated crying, abd she did it way too often. "Not if it's a stomach bug," she murmered, finding it hard to talk through her hot, closed throat.
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Tears of both pain and compassion filled her eyes. She blinked again, only to have those dirty rotten tears to fall onto her cheeks. The pain had lessened some, to an extent where it only felt like she was being stabbed with a cheese knife. When her throat had loosened a little, she asked quietly, "What do you think it is?"
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Emma shrugged, hosing her knees rightly to her slowly developing chest to try and let the pain diminish. It didn't, so she leaned further into Jack, the tip of her nose against the base of his neck. "Maybe," she allowed for a moment. "But it feels sharper than that."
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She blushed, face burying deeper away from his. It was something she'd done whenever she was emvaressed as a kid. Obviously, she had never dropped the habbit and Sometimes, even Acton or Edwin will find their sister's head buried deep in their chests. "Uh, kind of, but a helluva lot worse."
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She shrugged, relieved fit the subject change. "I don't know- ow- but I just know that it really hurts." She sighed, frantically wiping under her eyes. "Crap." She looked up at Jack quickly, proud that she hadn't sworn in front of him like she tended to do.
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She curled herself into a tighter ball, sliding onto her lover's lap. Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't even know what's wrong." She was seriously starting to reconsider the infirmary option. "But thanks for being so - ow - concerned. Ow." She winced.
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Emma really hated being defenseless and unable to do anything. But Jack's loving hands were like a sedation, and she didn't feel as bad with him there. "Actually, I think that what you're doing right now is working just fine," she murmered. It wasn't exactly true, but it was a nice thought.
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"Please don't worry about me," she mumbled against his shirt. The pains in her stomach made her flinch, but her main focus was Jack now. "Settle? I promise you I'll be fine." Her hand slid over his shoulder, and her small fingers gently kneaded into his muscle, massaging out any knots or tension.
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"But you're worried, when there's nothing to worry about." She pressed her lips against his cheek, a new wave of nausea coming over her, but nothing came up. She swallowed down the faint taste of bile, and rest her hand on his chest. Absent-mindedly, her fingers traced little swirls on his chest.
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Jack didn't reply, pursing his lips and examining her.
((S'okie. It's OK. Sorry.)) Emma raised an eyebrow, worry and pain flashing in her ivy green eyes. The stabbing pain returned quickly, forcing her to cross her arms tightly over hee stomach against tge pain.
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Emma, who was seriously considering letting him take her to the infirmary, hugged him back once the pain had ebbed. "What do you want to do?" She asked quietly, twirling a blazing strand of hair in her fingers.
Matt strolled casually through the grass, enjoying the faint breeze that cooled him down. He'd just finished his daily training at the battle grounds. Now, he was taking the long way back to the cabin, and soaking in the momentary quiet.
Narcyz, who was merrily humming a song pranced around the grounds, nearly hitting a bunch of Aphrodite girls and somehow managed to get away from the giggling girls without getting any makeup on his face. However, the action made him run into Matt. "Sorry," he gulped, checking if he was alright.
((Xeena: ... Why does this RP frighten me?Me : HUSH!))
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Arizona fummed her way down the rolling plains, her face was in a blank state with no real emotion displayed on it. Her hands were shoved in the pocket of her hoodie and an iPod was tucked into her back pocket as she began to drown the world out with Beethoven's Ninth.
message 1993:
by
Iviana (The Sign Painter), The Goddess of indecisiveness
(new)
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Rhys hadn't cooled down. Not in the slightest, which was very odd, as he thought about it. He was trying to sort out how he felt at the moment. Anger, yes, that was one. Frustration. Confusion. He hated that last one. Confusion and a vague sort of helplessness.
He brushed passed someone.
"Sor..." Rhys had looked up. Arizona.
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"Don't be." She coldly replied, her blank expression rebounding to a hostile one. Setting her jaw, Arizona awaited his response- hazel eyes like daggers in the warm summer night. One hand held her iPod she had paused, the other one was placed on her out jutted hip.
message 1995:
by
Iviana (The Sign Painter), The Goddess of indecisiveness
(new)
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"Happy, I see," he commented dryly. Rhys stared down at her jaw set. Of all the people, it had to be her. Of course. "How are you this fine evening?"
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((Really? We learned about that in music class... All I remember is about Bach though, and didn't Beethovens' children die? Hmm... I'm not good with history))
message 1997:
by
Iviana (The Sign Painter), The Goddess of indecisiveness
(new)
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((Bach had too many children, and i have no idea. XD))
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Angry that she couldn't make everyone she cared for seemingly happy, angry that there wasn't such place as heaven, angry at her father and angry at everything else in the world that she wished would resolve itself- Arizona sucked in her lips, shut her eyes and counted to three. That old tune that her father used to play with her: Heart and Soul, came to mind. Resuming to her rigid yet composed state, she smiled at him in an obvious fake theme. "You?" Arizona courtseyed, though the polite tone here was absent.
message 1999:
by
Iviana (The Sign Painter), The Goddess of indecisiveness
(new)
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Emma laughed, burying her head into his shoulder. "You shouldn't punch her. That could put her in a coma."
Not even a moment after Emma had uttered the word "coma," a sharp pain down below her stomach struck her. The pain was so sharp and painful, it took her by surprise and a small groan escaped her lips.