Calling all Demigods! discussion
Campus Roleplay
>
Library
message 251:
by
Annie
(new)
Sep 11, 2011 06:18PM
A suspicious arch of one blonde eyebrow, but then nothing. Michaelangela shrugged it off and ran a hand through her light hair.
reply
|
flag
Mod
(Lawl, you could make something up.)
((fudge. Um.... ~rapid brain power~ Ima use one of your characters.))Michaelangela shrugged. "Nothing much. Just [insert name here] and the struggles that go with him/her."
Mod
"I heard that her brother is leaving soon." Ronnie commented, knowing it was always sad when people left.
((aaaaarrrrrighty;)))"Yeah, so she's been around a lot lately."
Mod
Michaelangela shrugged. "You're kind of expected to listen when you're supposed to personify trust."
Mod
Michaelangela grinned. "I'd live to see the day."
Mod
((DEATH no... XD Me too. And we can't necessarily have a monster...))
Mod
((XD IRONY. Let's püph and discuss this in CSC.))
Mod
Hours went by, and Dillon continued his research. He had gotten distracted from his thoughts of finding the one who’d brought him here to search for something else. He had gone through the pages on all of the Persephone kids – past and present – and he noticed that most of them had been born in either the spring or summer. That seemed to be a given to him, but he also noticed that under the listed abilities of the average Persephone camper, none of them listed his odd ‘pollen power’. Maybe they didn’t count it as a power. After all, it wasn’t that strong when he did it. But it did give him the idea to try and build it up if he could. It would be something to do, at least, on his way to…whatever it was he was supposed to do.
((And that is to get him out of the library and into the sun, will head to Forest I think when I return))
It was dark outside, dim amongst the bookshelves, too. Head full of dark locks-- growing a bit out of hand, one may notice-- was held in Peter's hands. Working on th same essay for hours on end was enough to make him go mad.He was alone in the library; most were asleep in their beds or at the campfire. But procrastinating always forced Peter to long hours.
Turning around, Peter met the familiar blue (...yes?) eyes with a smile. "Well, you little bird was right," he murmured gently, opening his arms for her to come join him.The perfect distraction, the same essay Peter had been slaving over for hours flew from his mind only to be replaced by her and only her.
((damn. I was close:3))A gentle kiss, and Peter wrapped his arms around her. A gantle hand reached up to smooth out her thin brown hair, tucking stray strands behind her ear and playfully curling a few around his finger.
"So what've you been up to?"
"Aw. Don't I feel appreciated," he teased.((...~adds in random details~ sorry. I'm deathly sick and brain dead so that's all ya get for now:3))
"Sleep that we all need," he murmured. "Even though most of us procrastinate and therefore can't sleep."Blue eyes flitted to the books, then back to the doll in his arms. "No one particular in mind, though."
((OHSHITSORRY. I clicked on it a while ago and couldn't come up with anything and decided I'd come back later and forgot.))A small smile-- the angel was tempted. He glanced down at the dolll in his arms and frowned.
"Are you trying to make me stop my homework?" he whined.
Hand strayed to the small of her back, the other dropping to her waist. Gently, Peter pulled her closer-- if possible-- and pressed his lips against hers. It would seem that the angel always gave in.
One hand slid up her side, the other twisting itself through her soft, brown locks. All other thoughts left his mind-- homework, tests, anything that was bothering him-- and only Bronwen remained. The delicate, porcelain doll in his arms was a tangible thing, now. The girl of his imagination real.
((aaaaand how far shall we go here, dearest?))
((.... So, what kind of an answer is that?)$
((so you're saying they... Merh..,. TAKE IT TO CHAT:3))
Gwynivere wrote: ""Mmm," soft, delicate pleasure that grew with every waking moment with him here, every minute that her hungry lips could latch onto his. Tongue, that tricky tongue, made it's way to caress his lowe..."Too many distractions. The stick broke the horse's back, and in a rush books were closed and tossed inside the jacket, held like a sack. Bringing both arms around to hold Bronwen in his grasp, Peter's lips delicately moved to her ear.
"Let me take you somewhere else," he murmured, lips grazing the very surface of her ear. "This is not the place."
((around her shoulder:3 no, he isn't that strong. I SHALL FIX IT.))
((AND now we poof. Post'll be in a bit; laundry.))
Pheobus walked into the library, he looked around the room for someone to talk to...
The young daughter or Iris was sprawled across a leather sofa, book in hand. Through the windows, the setting sun could be seen, and was casting an eerie light throughout the room. Black hair fell like the midnight sky down Bridget's shoulders, adorned with one lost rainbow. Cloudy-blue eyes scanned the page quickly; the only sound in the library was the turning of the page.
The sound of stomping boots interrupted the peaceful silence of the libarary. A dryad turned to give the boy a glare, which he returned with an apologetic smile. Eric had come to the library for something interesting to read. His dark brown hair was damp from his shower, making it look black in te dim light of the library. He shook his head, sending droplets of water around, then mussed his hair up to make it look artfully messy. Not paying attention to those around him, Eric started down the aisles, finger brushing against the soft spines of the books.
Droplets found Bridget, and she lowered the book with a narrowed gaze. Mouth open to scream a few less-than-nice words at her, Bridget was paused when she recognized Eric.A slight gasp, and then Bridget found herself hiding behind her book.
A small gasp alerted Eric that his water bombs had hit someone. He turned to apologize, but found no one glaring at him. Only someone hiding behind a book, face unreadable.
Bridget remained hidden, though she did pull the book-- pages now dotted with water-- a little further.
Eric noticed the splashes of water on the book, and smiled. He wandered over, and tapped the cover of the book with one finger. "Hey, my bad. I didn't realize you were in the splash zone."
Blue eyes peered up at him through a rainbow of bangs, and she shrugged. "No biggie."
Eric frowned. There was something about those eyes, and the voice that seemed familiar. BUt he coulnd't put his finger on it. And he was sure that he'd remember hair like that. "Wow. Cool rainbow bangs. Real colorful."
A small smile. "Thanks." Rainbow-painted nails ran through those very bangs, pushing them out of her eyes. Stomach was in a knot. He didn't recognize her. That was good.
... That was good.
"You look oddly familiar," he said, wrinkles deepening. "Have you been here at Camp Half-Blood long?" The eyes were so strikingly familiar. Yet, he would have remembered the rainbow hair contrasting against the raven black. He just could't place his finger on it.
A lurch. Oh gods."For a while, yes. I left for a year to visit my family, though, last year."
Last year? Well, there was somebody last year with the same eyes... but no. It couldn't be. "Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. Names's Eric," he said, offering a hand.
A slight gulp. "It's a pleasure, Eric."Hand was returned quickly to her lap, and Bridget gently set the book down. No use reading now.
Pheobus, who was already in the library, walked over to some shelves of books and began to search through them.
[Isn't Pheobus in the Battle Arena?] Eric hesitated. She hadn't given her name, he'd noticed. It puzzled him, but he decided not to press her.
"So what cabin are you in? I'm son of Hermes."
{appearantly you are allowed to have your charries in more then one place at once... and he has been here for the last month}
She shook her bangs out of her eyes. "Iris, quite obviously." A small, faked smile. He could be on to her in any minute...
[No, we agreed that charries had to stay in one place.] "Iris?" Eric's eyebrows shot up. He sat on the chair opposite her. "Do you know Sam?"
"I do."Bridget glanced down, blue eyes downcast and spray of hair falling in her face.
