Calling all Demigods! discussion
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Javelin Range
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message 201:
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[deleted user]
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Jan 17, 2011 06:52PM
"That is all the more awesome. I need to find my inner Athena and try to strike up reading again," Keelyn decided, not the least bit intimidated. Except for the fact Andy could kill her if she pissed her off, but that seemed unlikely.
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"That would be really great of you," Keelyn said, having no clue how valuable they were. Yet, she was aware that they did have value and made a mental note to take extra good care of them.
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"Thank you. Oh, and make sure you knock," Keelyn added hurriedly. She knew this wasn't as likely to happen, but she didn't want Andromeda re-living her awkward encounter of last year.
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[If only the poor girl knew.]
"Just trust me on this," Keelyn said, the look of unease in her eyes more than enough to convince someone.
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Keelyn was about to assure her there was nothing to be scared of, but realized it was probably better that she was very cautious. "Anyways," she continued breezily. "Thanks again."
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No more mistakes, Meleager thought.As he held the brand new spear in hand, he poised to throw quickly.
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Striding in the range, white-blonde curls whipping to and fro in the icy storm, Aureline lifted a javelin and threw it with a deadly grace, her aim aided by the wind so it struck a target in the middle with elegant accuracy.
Though her face was a perfectly composed, neutral facade, those who knew her well would know the storm under the icy gray of her eyes.
Meleager saw the untrusting, sly, cold girl and calculated she might be...Boreas or Athena, having those cold gray eyes.He threw it accuractely and saw the spear she had been handling.
"May I see that spear please?" he asked.
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Tossing the spear disinterestedly at the sound of the boy's voice, Aureline turned to rummage for another one, making sure that the spear reached the boy's grip safely with a gentle push of her powers.
Inside she was only partly at the range. The other part of her, the majority, was locked in her brain and screaming in silent panic.
((Yeah, sorry))He took it with the utmost care and inspected it. But he truly wasn´t interested in it.
((Shizz, I don´t know how to make ém talk! He´s a Pistis, so he may make jer talk, but...))
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He gave it back and said, "Why are you using an old spear?" in a swakny tone. He looked her in the eyes, with a trusting look. "And, who are you anynway?"
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"No reason. I'm Aureline of the Boreas cabin."
Cold eyes surveyed him.
"Meleager, son of Pistis" and under his breath, almost turned away from her, said, "Nice to meet an icicle."
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Turning around, one arm wrapped unconsciously over her waist, she put the spear back in its place and walked out of the range, back erect, chin held high with the diligent posture she'd been taught since she'd learned how to walk.
"Real proud, are you?" he asked loudly. He hated when people literally put a pedestal for themselves every time they were in public.
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"Oh, c´mon, don´t go" he called annoyingly. He tried to put as much trust in his voice as posiible but it wasn´t mcuh.
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((Okay.))Meleager, with a disdainful snort, left and kicked a rock.
((What else can he do?))
Dante was on his way to the forest when the cold rush from the range spoke to him like a nightingale signals the evening. His dark eyes held a measure of contempt toward this place as they passed over the nearby campers. Disinteresting. All of them. Neither has a clue.
His boredom drew him out of those mind-numbing thoughts when his focus settled on the chilly wind enchantress. The upper corner of his lips twitched and slyly he approached. A measuring and unsettling gaze landed on Meleager, assuming the boy was bothering Aureline.
"Trust me. She isn't worth your breath," he firmly intoned to Meleager. "You'd have better luck with the Aphrodites around the corner."
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The cadences of that voice were familiar, even from a distance-- familiar so she could not tell what the words meant. But they were spoken in the rich low tone she thawed so much to, and so Aureline stopped and turned around, the faintest traces of a smile touching her lips if not lighting up her face completely.
A pitying gaze, though only for a moment, swept across Meleager and Aureline had to refrain herself from calling Dante to her. No-- this was amusement she would love to watch.
So she stepped back in the shadow of a tall fir pine to watch, its sharp pine scent washing over her.
Usako wrote: "Dante was on his way to the forest when the cold rush from the range spoke to him like a nightingale signals the evening. His dark eyes held a measure of contempt toward this place as they passed o...""I know that. But I wasn't looking for love, just practice, but it's uncomfortable to have an ((no offense)) emo beside me practicing."
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The stone tone retort hardly chiseled any favor out from Dante. Those dark brows barely shifted when his posture stiffened with a smoldering look from his lidded eyes directed to his nearby companion. "Emo?" is said in disbelief and his chin rose to study the skies. "Nary a dark cloud is seen and the tart there," he juts his chin in Aurie's direction, "is too insignificant to be a bother during practice. Or are you so feeble to let her impact your skill? If so, then seek the teets of a female centaur to mommy you." As offending as the remark was issued, his lazy stance and bored tone hints of a growing impatience.Fortunately for the boy, Dante is no longer staring at him but rather the woman.
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The wind rustled against the leaves, disrupting the uniform rustle of their papery green lengths. As the icicle curls were tousled by the gusts, Aureline walked on, pondering what the boy had said, that proud nosy boy now getting his worth from Dante. An icicle, he'd called her.
She smiled. Wind rushed around her.
Icicles melted in the sun. She melted (turning her head halfway with a captivating half-smile towards the Hadean) in the dark.
A smolder of smoke swarmed about his pupils; the testiness of the frigid female pricked at his fiery nature. Dante ignored the whelp he so rudely admonished to stride toward the witch. A hand whipped out to make a connection with her neck. The growl beneath his tone let out a warning, "I see that you wish to be put in your place. Why bother the peons when you could have a better time with me?" His head cocked to the side and his lips quirkwd into a wry but dangerous smirk. His hand, should he made contact, lessened about her throat to aim in lifting her chin up more proudly. But the effect would so favorably make a lasting eye contact. "Shall we play a little game? I know the perfect place."
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Her pointed chin raised, she arched her raised eyebrow, every inch the picture of indifference, though the well-practiced eye would have seen the slight twitch towards a smile of her full, pale-rose lips, and the spark of amusement in her dark eyes.
"Tag."The mere playground game lacked the childlike resonates when Dante spoke so simply and especially so when his body turned a step toward her. His teeth gleamed with a sardonic smile.
"You do know how to play or has the ice sapped your brain?"
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But it wasn't because the game had a childhood memory associated with it - not for her at least - but because as a daughter of the Northern wind god, Aureline was as fleet of foot as the winds she could conjure, and tired with difficulty. Though she was frail she was one of the camp's best runners.
She wondered if Dante knew that. To him this would be a recreation of one of those ancient Greek myths - Persephone being chased across flower fields by the Underworld god; Daphne fleeing from bright Apollo. To Aureline this was a test of her endurance.
Her smile widened suddenly, and she darted forwards, smacking Dante's shoulder with the palm of her hand. "You're it," she said coolly, and in a flash was gone through the forest.
Flowers were not on his mind when the glacier woman fled from his reach; why she had the audacity to start without his say only further shoved any romantic trace aside. His eyes bore at her coolly when her hand rapped his shoulder. His lips twitched bitterly when she dashed away. The only saving grace was the view of her backside. He watched until the winds carried her off before his head lifted to catch the scent like a bloodhound on the hunt.
Smoke wafted about his skin and the blue eyes smoldered to a raging fire. In another instant, he disappeared onto the paths no mortal should ever take let alone gods -- the underworld.
[meet in forest?]
