i'll make you scream

jack switch is a seventeen year old son of phobos with a fiery tongue, a taste for edm, and a killer collection of sunglasses. jack speaks what's on his mind and couldn't give two shits about what you think (unless you're hot and available). look into his eyes if you're looking for a good time. baby, he'll make you scream all night long.

[jack-switch]

dunamais:

“You know,” Macey nodded, her expression thoughtful, “That’s actually not a half-bad idea.” Looking around the arena—newer and better than the old one, just like most things in this camp—it seemed fairly obvious to update some other amenities. “We do already have hot tubs and like, we only got those because we wanted them for fun and the gods felt bad. It’d be nice to get my nails and shit done here. I doubt Chiron would be down to get us a spa though. Do you think he takes bribes? I’ve never tried, shockingly.”

Jack shrugged. “We should just do it. I mean, if we dig up a huge hole and fill it, it’s not like Chiron can just fill it back up himself.” Jack went through his head to remember if he knew anybody with earth powers or water powers. He definitely knew somebody with heat powers. Ugh. “Isn’t it better to ask for forgiveness than permission?”

[dunamais]

“Shit fuck,” Macey dropped the weapon in her hand, the clattering sound echoing off the walls of the arena. Clutching her ring finger close, she frowned, “I literally just got these nails done yesterday.” The end of her pretty, acrylic nail had been broken off, now dangling on the edge of her finger like a loose leaf. 

She plopped down on the nearest bench and turned to the person training with her, “Can we, or like, some Heph kid or someone invent demigod proof nails because this girl needs that in her life like, immediately.” Macey plucked the dangling piece of nail off and flicked it across the floor.

[jack-switch]

 “Ugh. That’s real.” Jack let the tip of his sword fall and stick in the dirt. He flexed his fingers and examined his many rings for wear and tear. Then, lowering his head, he brushed his fingers over his face to feel his scar. 

For months after the burn healed, Jack could barely look at himself in the mirror. He avoided the company of other people out of the fear that his very appearance would repulse them, not to mention his newly strengthened abilities. Jack only developed the courage to reintegrate himself into camp after a night of binging Queer Eye on Netflix and realizing that his self-pity probably came off as lame and unattractive. Jack’s focus shifted to training. Maybe if he could develop his body more, he could distract people from his face. In the meantime, Jack wore fashion like a bullet vest. Look expensive and extra, he thought, and nobody will notice your awful scar.

“Camp needs a spa. We have people who can telekinesis the earth and water and fire and all that shit. There’s no excuse.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

“You did,” he agreed, nodding idly. He took a bite of his apple, not rushing to fill the silence. “But you really need to talk to people besides me.”

“You say that like it’s gonna be so painless.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

Brent raised his eyebrows. “It’s okay, I was just wondering.” He gestured to the seat next to him. “You can sit, if you want.”

Jack took a seat on the bench beside Brent’s, crossing his legs and leaning onto his knees. “I did come here, to be fair.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

“That’s a relief to hear. Well, the no new injuries are.” Brent watched Jack watch him. “Did you… talk to anyone? Make any new friends to fill the void I left behind?”

Jack snorts. “No.” He stuff his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. “I mean, I tried. I don’t know. Ugh, I’m not good with that.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

“Well, we don’t have to dwell on that. Not when I have all these cool new injuries.” He paused, waiting to see if Jack would lift his gaze again. “Or we could talk about something else, like how you held up these last two weeks.”

“Well, I don’t have any new injuries.” Jack’s eyes flitted over Brent again, scanning his body for deformities and scars. He hoped his sunglasses were opaque enough to hide his staring. “They were okay, I guess.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

“Well, thanks.” He took another bite of his apple and shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Camp used to get attacked a lot.”

“Yeah, I remember. Everybody died.” Jack’s eyes wandered around Brent’s feet. “That sucks.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

“Oh no, I can’t do the same thing twice,” he said with a smirk. “That would make life boring.“

“What?” Jack crosses his arms. “When were you ever maimed? You look like a centerfold.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

He saw Jack approaching and lifted his hand in greeting. “Did you think you were talking to a ghost over the phone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Brent didn’t think he would see the boys so soon, and this was a welcome surprise. “Were you going on a run?”

Jack almost laughed. “Ew, no. A run?” Warily, as if not to get too close, Jack approached Brent by the campfire. “I thought you were maimed. But you look good.”

[brent-vale-blog]

Camp was a welcome sight after a week in a dark cell and another week in a hospital. It was too bad, then, that Brent was stuck laying around instead of actually enjoying it. Taking it easy, as he was directed to do, turned out to be doing next to nothing for an indefinite amount of time. He had been back for less than a day and was already restless. How he was going to manage the next few months was beyond him.

Eventually, Brent decided that he could sit around outside, at the very least. What harm could that do? So he hauled himself off the couch, grabbed an apple, and went to the campfire. He resented that he needed to sit after such a short walk, but he tried not to dwell on it. He bit into his apple and focused on fresh air instead of the ache in his spine. It could be worse, he reminded himself— a minimally comforting thought.

[jack-switch]

Inadvertently, Jack was getting a fair amount of exercise. In his concerted effort to avoid even the most minimal of conversation, his self-enforced daily stroll through camp had become an aggressive power walk. Jack mumbled curses to himself whenever he approached the vicinity of another camper but nevertheless engaged in the practice every day, extending his path a bit further with each repetition. As he looped around the residential quad to return to his cabin, Jack’s attention flitted to an attractive camper sitting by the campfire. Just to investigate the situation, out of curiosity, he walked casually in the direction of the campfire. When he was about ten yards away, Jack finally recognized the face before him. “You’re not dead.” 

[jack-switch]

maliacashe:

“It’s okay.” She looks down at the white Adidas Superstars on her feet. “Thanks.” She gave Jack a small smile. “Wanna help me clean this up?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jack grabs some napkins from a nearby table and crouches down, throwing them down on the yogurt. He keeps his eyes on Malia’s hands, avoiding proximity at all costs.

[jack-switch]

maliacashe:

Malia sighs, watching her yogurt splatter across the floor. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbles before looking up at the person responsible. She pauses, then leans down to pick up the bowl and spoon. “At least it didn’t get on my shoes.”

“Ugh. Sorry,” Jack mumbles. He watches her pick up the bowl, his hands jammed into his pockets. “They’re cute.”

[jack-switch]

Jack pops the collar of his denim jacket and buries his face in it. Even behind his sunglasses and the bill of his cap, the pink canyons of the scar across his eye pop against his pale skin. Keeping his head down, he marches into the dining pavilion, oblivious to the camper straight ahead of him until his elbow knocks the plate right out off their hands. “Fuck. Sorry.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

Pausing for a moment, Brent eventually nods. “Yeah, that’s true. I guess I just, uh, feel bad. You didn’t deserve this.” He sighs. “But I know that’s not… It doesn’t fix anything, saying that, so if you’d rather I’d stop, or leave, just tell me.”

Jack bites the inside of his cheek. At any other time, Jack would have jumped at the chance to spend time with him. He lies back, burying his burns into his pillow. “Do whatever you want.”

[jack-switch]

parkerrvalentine:

Parker shrugs. “I dunno, is that what you’re good at?”

“I mean, probably as good as you. I don’t do competitive sports.”

[jack-switch]

jacobriveras:

“Do you understand how your powers work?” Jacob didn’t have powers the way most kids did and he could never tell if he was thankful or jealous for that fact. The prospect of being able to control water or lighting seemed exciting, but also dangerous. “I don’t know much about powers, really. Being a child of Nike just makes me really competitive.”

Jack shrugs. He might not have the same control over his power that the other campers do, but he certainly understands what they do. “They just make people freak the fuck out. It’s pretty straightforward.”

[jack-switch]

brent-vale:

Brent feels something sharp deep in his chest, and he nods. “Yeah. Stuff like this feels kind of… unreal. For a while.” He sighs. “It sucks. I’m sorry.”

Jack pulls his knees in, hugging them to his chest. “How would you know? You’ve got two good eyes in your head.”