#argostarter

[vvclascos]

@aeipaths chapter one — virgil and river. location: the dining pavilion. date: october 28th.

Touring the Camp wasn’t on Virgil’s agenda for today, but with the arrival of the Romans, Chiron saw fit to have someone extend the olive branch and show them around—meaning that he’d have to sit there beneath their silent gazes, full of judgement. Which is why he thanked his lucky stars that only one of them wanted to come out and walk around the camp today, running through the basic “You’re a demigod now, where are you?” spiel for the unclaimed. Maybe it was the seasoned camper in him, but soon, he found himself giving him the midday rest stop in the dining pavilion, talking about how getting food works.

“So anyways, the wood nymphs here serve up great food, and the goblets are enchanted so it’s like Alexa, but for drinks.” He was thankful for a break at this point—his feet were getting sore, and his stomach was practically screaming for food. Maybe he could get some peace of mind, while he was at it. “You up for a break, or do you want to keep going through with the camp tour? Personally, I’m dying to scarf down some barbecue, but whatever floats your boat.”

[vvclascos]

@plvtcn​ chapter one — virgil and kazim. location: the forest. date: october 27th.

It was surprising, Virgil thought, that he’d never seen Kazim come into view like a normal person. Perhaps it was the dramatics of it all, or that the children of the god of the underworld naturally had the talent of appearing out of thin air, but when he turned around to look at the clearing before him, he saw Kazim sitting down, looking out at the forest. Eerie as it were, he knew that he meant no harm—he often just looked out at the campers and kept to himself during events. Come to think of it, the meeting with the gods was the first time they’d been within ten feet of each other since he started Camp.

“How’s the moonlight working for you?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, a small smile curling on his face. Virgil didn’t need enemies, with Ronan nipping at his heels, and the Romans looking at them like they’d done them wrong for simply existing. The quest called for Romans and Greeks, and seeing as he had at least some footholds over the other Greek demigods,.  “Please, don’t stop brooding on my account, but can I at least join? Or I don’t know, at least ask how you haven’t been eaten by anything? Pretty handy survival tips, especially when we’re going to be on a death-trap of a mission for gods know how long.”

[vvclascos]

@averygreene​ chapter one — virgil and ronan. location: the training grounds. date: october 27th.

Virgil knows he’s a work in progress. From the first time he’d walked into Camp Half-blood, he knew how much he had to catch up to everyone else. They looked like they held blades in their hands as they exited the womb, moving through training with smiles on their faces and no blood on their hands, while he had to understand how to master blades that still put him off-balance to this day. It was choreography, he figured, trying to make sense of what he was doing. Today, however, he was trying to put his best foot forward.

He was going to be a demigod on a quest—no, The Quest, and he needed to be in tip-top shape. Travel with demigods who’d had more quests, more power, more glory, and he wasn’t going to slip and fall in front of them. He was on a roll, working up a sweat with furious swipes and slashes, sidestepping the dummy like it was nothing, and then catching on something. 

The shock of it all came first, then the mortification. He was lying flat on his back in front of a training dummy, and it looked like it won. He just hoped to the gods that no one had seen, but from the sight of Ronan, it seemed like his prayers had fallen on deaf ears once again.

“Don’t.” It was the tone he used with Ronan, a mixture of irritation and stubbornness that always seemed to work. “If you’re going to say something, don’t. I don’t need whatever you want to say.”

[vvclascos]

@jvsefinas​ chapter one — virgil and josefina. location: the empire state building. date: october 27th.

Eternity wasn’t something Virgil could comprehend. Sure, he was a demigod, born of immortal blood, but the concept of immortality and forever always made him felt like someone had dumped a vat of ennui in his brain, or he just downed a tub of ice cream in one go. But a Huntress of Artemis, well, that was a different story.

The Huntress walked with purpose, grace, a sense of confidence that could put everyone in the Ares cabin to shame, and it almost felt like he was caught in her orbit for a split second. She wore eternity on her chest like it was nothing—he was almost tempted to ask her how it felt. Of course, tt wouldn’t take much to start that conversation, after all, and if they were going to have to go on this quest for gods know how long, he should at least start to get to know the crew. Make a half-decent first impression, notwithstanding the Greek-Roman rivalries.

“Can’t say much for the Greeks or the Romans, but I’m happy to have a Huntress onboard with whatever the gods want us to do here.” He shoved his hands inside his jacket, and smiled, the way that the Aphrodite kids always did. (Less teeth, more allure.) “The name’s Virgil. Hebe’s kid, and unofficial Hermes cabin member. Pleased to meet you.” 

[aeipaths]

time : 11:42AM. location : CAMP HALF-BLOOD.

     ── He’d fallen into a habit of observation. River wasn’t sure how characteristic this was of him, exactly, maybe the pattern of it had simply worsened with the new influence of the Greeks and their camp, but he did at least know the tendency had come around quieter this time. Usually he would have already thrown himself into the fray unhesitatingly, tracing out strings to pull or otherwise feeling around for whatever weak spots he could later use as handholds for himself. With the rest of the fourteen, however, he hoped to take more time. Running in headfirst gave him faster results, certainly, but his knowing would be built on half-information--- shaky jointed, with the possibility to fall apart quickly, and he wanted his understanding of his new peers to last. So for the past while, he’d attempted to simply watch, to listen, and feel out the others.

Jinx hadn’t exactly made herself difficult to notice. Not that she was without her subtleties, as she had what appeared to be a propensity for quick fingers and offhand comments, already apparent in many of the Hermes campers and concentrated in her. Just that she was so set apart from the rest he was learning of, bright hair and a sly smile that countered in such clean contrast to the others. Camp Half-Blood was already foreign enough, and she was of particular note, an antithesis to the militarism he’d grown accustomed to among the Romans. He wondered how genuine her lightheartedness was.

That morning, he found, his observe-from-afar efforts weren’t particularly suiting him anymore--- it hadn’t taken long for him to grow bored of his own attempted patience. Jinx had pulled herself up off the ground, he’d spotted, her legs all curled around the lower branches of a tree, hidden if he hadn’t seen her set herself there in the first place. Curious, he wandered over, not an accusatory approach as if he was about to ruin her fun, but obviously with intent. River cocked his head to the side slightly so as to get a better view of her vivid hair among the needles, hands in his pockets, smiling as disarmingly as he knew. “Hiding from someone?”

@get-jinxxxed