Yes. You read that right. Greece has fallen...or at least the camp that has catered to Greek demigods for over three millennia has fallen. Camp Half-Blood had a traitor in their midst. A traitor with powerful allies who quickly burned the camp to the ground. Some were lost, some killed, and the rest who remained began the long trek across the country to the only place where they might be safe: Camp Jupiter.
Chiron banded what campers they had left, told them of the other camp and sent word to Camp Jupiter pleading for shelter. Chaos now threatens the camp daily with the arrival of new Greek campers to this foreign camp. This camp with strange customs and rules. While on the Roman end the Praetors are forced to hold up a balancing act of providing sanctuary while also trying to find the traitor before their home suffers the same fate as Camp Half-Blood.
New alliances are forged, new enemies are made, and these two worlds have to find some way to work together for the future of them all. Which side are you on? Which position will you take? It's time to jump in the fray because Greece has fallen.
ANNOUNCEMENT
Welcome to our site! We are so glad you are here my friend. Pull up a seat, set your weapons down and let's chat. We are a non-canon, percy jackson RP site based in Camp Jupiter. Both Greek and Roman demigods allowed. Legacies are limited. We have a very small word requirement for posting and we're pretty relaxed around here. We like drama but not the RL kind so keep this place nice and friendly. If you've got questions don't hesitate to ask!
GHF is the product of the mind of Addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian. this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by Haya to fit the site's concept and needs. most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds. all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners. if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
The sun was warm as it caressed Espen's skin, the heat gentle as he made his way over to a hillier part of the gardens. He wasn't exactly hiding, of course, because Espen had never been the shy sort of guy when it came to girls. No, he just preferred to watch her for now - he didn't know much about her, except that she sometimes came to the gardens to smell the flowers or run her fingers through the vines. He'd stumbled upon her the first time, but he hadn't wanted to interrupt because she looked so... at peace. Espen knew then that she was a Greek, because no Roman would choose to seclude themselves in the gardens and look so starved for peace and tranquility. He hadn't interrupted her then, and he hadn't interrupted her the few times he'd seen her since.
But the gardens were mostly empty that afternoon. That was fine by Espen, too - he should probably start becoming more subtle about her, anyway. Attitude between camps wasn't its best, and Espen preferred to just mind his own business and not give the Greeks cause to knife him in his sleep for interacting with one of theirs or something. Just in case.
With a small contented smirk, Espen leaned back to lie on the grassy ground, his hands folded under his head as he tilted his head up to the sky. The earth was cool and solid under his body, and it was about as comfortable to the son of Pluto as his bed. As he relaxed, his mind drifted in no particular direction. Probably dinner - the legionnaire always looked forward to food. Perhaps sneaking out to visit his mother later? He hadn't done it in a while, and while he felt no strong attachment to his mum, he sometimes liked to just drop in with no warning. Besides, he hadn't seen his hellhound buddy in a while, either; Jett would enjoy the adventure, short and predictable as it was. There was very little the sunny hellhound didn't enjoy when it came to Espen. With his evening plans sorted and with the expectation of seeing his pup soon, Espen's smile widened as he closed his eyes, savouring the dying rays of the afternoon sun.
Mirabella, needless to say, was not enjoying herself. Ever since arriving in the testosterone-fueled nightmare that these people called a camp, she had found herself having a near-constant headache. It wasn't enough that her only home had burned to the ground. Gods no, that would have been too easy for the fates to allow. No she had been made to carry her things, by herself nonetheless, halfway across the country to get thrown into some camp that appeared to be stuck in the medieval times. She had been given barracks to sleep in that allowed no room for privacy much less the clothes that she had brought with her. She and her siblings had then been handed the most gods-awful shade of purple shirt that she refused to wear, along with a list of chores and classes that made her actually laugh out loud as she had assumed it was a joke.
It was not. Nor was proper seating apparently as she had found out earlier. She had walked into their aptly named mess hall and was shocked to see campers dining on small pillows on the literal ground that they referred to as couches which she disagreed wholly with. They could refer to them as couches all they wanted, but they were clearly over-stuffed pillows. It wasn't enough that they appeared to value pain and suffering as achievements but that even their meal time was designed to be a testament to their love of suffering. She had walked right back outside. To her barrack, which had done nothing to help her mood.
Mira had then spent the rest of the day trying to find a child of Hecate who could perform a spell to make more room in the dreary barrack hall. It had been a waste of time so she had decided to leave the cramped space and try to enjoy some fresh air. So she had walked past the buildings and bunkers, past the mess hall and stables, and found herself walking through an area that looked oddly enough...lovely. She found herself wondering if perhaps she had stumbled upon the outside of the camp's borders because nothing that she had seen thus far had seemed pleasant.
She was so lost in her thought that she hadn't noticed that she had come upon something in the grass. Mira stumbled and fell, her hands instinctively going forward to catch herself, landing in the dirt. She looked at what had caused the fall and irritation flooded her as she saw it was not a what but a who. "What is it with you people and not using furniture?" She gently turned her hand over, looking at the cuts and scrapes that now marred her skin. "A whole camp full of self-proclaimed engineers and none of you can make a chair?"
The sudden feel of a shoe in his ribs brought Espen out of the peaceful relaxation he had been sinking into. It didn't hurt exactly, because gods knew he'd taken something worse than that to more painful parts of his body, but the unexpectedness of it - as well as the whumph of someone landing partly on him - had him startling to alertness. The earth, previously still and heavy beneath him, felt a bit of tremor even as the son of Pluto strove to rein back his power before it caused something worse which would potentially get him in trouble with his Praetors. He didn't feel the particular need to get an irate Dareios threatening him with a spatha so early in the week.
Upon sitting up to look at whichever gods-be-danged demigod had been so blind as to miss his stretched out form so completely, Espen spotted long brown hair and slim ankles. If he'd been any less of a gentleman, he would have taken advantage of his position behind her - as well as her angle on the ground - to have a better look, but for the most part, Espen was more concerned about if she had potentially been hurt. To be fair, the son of Pluto hadn't realised he'd needed to put up a Caution: Demigod Lying Down sign for the new Greek campers, of which this girl was clearly one due to the lack of the legion-issued purple Camp shirt. He knew the Greeks would be nowhere near as skilled as the Roman legionnaires, but he hadn't guessed they'd be so blind or just so lackadaisical about their surroundings. Had whoever set their camp on fire done it right in the middle of them all, without them noticing a single thing? Espen wouldn't be surprised in the least.
His concern for the Greek girl lasted approximately two seconds. His mouth had been open and his hands had separated from their woven hold to each other at the back of his head, ready for an apology and maybe to ask if she was okay. That was, until she'd snapped at him as though he was the one at fault for minding his own business and causing her to trip over his body. The whole situation was so funny to him, and rather than be offended, Espen merely smiled.
"Oh, my bad. I'll get our best engineers to set me up a chair right here," he replied, the grin clear in his voice. If the girl had been looking at him instead of studying her hands for cuts and scrapes - like she could get them from the grass, fragile Greek princess - she would have seen the sparkles of mirth in the Roman's eyes. "Here, let me help you up." And with that, Espen resumed his position lying down on the ground, hands once again cushioning his head and closing his eyes, content to slip back to his easy daydream, not the least concerned about the Greek girl who was probably only even more irritated by his not paying any attention to her.
Mirabella frowned as her hands dusted the dirt off of herself. She had never enjoyed being dirty, even as a child. She never saw the appeal in stomping in muddy puddles or joining in on activities that ruined her clothes or hair. Sure it only took seconds to fix her appearance with her blessed abilities, but what was the point? What was the appeal in looking like a wild animal? She couldn't fathom it. Once she was certain there was no more dirt or debris on herself, she looked over at the cause of her distress.
Roman, of course, that had been obvious. He had a handsome face, she supposed. His eyes were a little too light for her liking, had she had the choice, they would have been as dark as his hair. He had an angled jaw, which was nice, it made his features sharper. Though when he spoke, it was quite clear that the roguish look was the only thing he had going in his favor. "Ah, sarcasm. Is that standard issue here?" She replied back to his comment about the chair.
Mirabella was still sitting, on her rear, in the grass as the boy offered to help her up. She had a pleased moment of self-satisfaction however that at least he was offering to help her after he caused her to fall. His hands had moved, to what she had assumed would be towards her, to help her up, so she had extended hers to him. As his hands moved instead to the back of his head, his eyes closing as he ignored her, she pursed her lips. Mentally chiding herself for believing that Romans were capable of showing an ounce of civility. Mirabella's hand dropped back to her side as she replied, "No, please don't bother. It's quite clear you need some beauty rest."
Mira put her hands on the ground, pushing herself up. As her right foot made contact with the ground, however, pain immediately coursed through her. She yelped in pain before taking weight off of her foot, wobbling a moment before falling back to the ground. "I can't put weight on my foot. I think it's twisted." She gingerly moved her foot, trying slowly to rotate it. She had barely moved it when another pain caused her to stop immediately, her face scrunching in pain. "Can you call summon a healer?" She locked eyes with him, all but demanding that he help her, it was his fault after all.
This cursed camp was going to be the death of her. She could just see it now. All of the anger, the testosterone, the love of pain and self-sacrifice. It was maddening. There was no relaxation or sense of peace. They all just seemed to train and hold themselves above everyone else as if they were literal Gods. It was frustrating beyond words.
After a few seconds of contentedly lying back and trying to resume his daydream after ignoring the girl, Espen's face twisted slightly after there being no sound of movement to his side. Was she going to be a bratty princess and decide to pick a fight with him after he'd dismissed her so easily, ignoring her jabs as though they were foam arrows? Or was she gearing up for another kick to his ribs while he lay there with his eyes closed? The second possibility had Espen cracking open one eye to peer at where the girl had been, and to his surprise she was still there and not even paying him any attention any more. He watched idly and with only a small amount of curiosity as she tried to sit up, before landing back on her backside with a small cry of pain.
With a flash of impatience that had Espen sitting up again, he turned towards the girl with a look of disbelief on his face. He ignored her request to call a healer like he was some servant who was going to run off to fulfill her every wish and dream. "Did you honestly twist your ankle just tripping over me?" he asked, not sounding the least bit apologetic. An irritated eyeroll punctuated his words, a scowl on his face as he continued, "What are you Greeks made of, spun glass?"
Despite this, though, Espen grudgingly leaned forward to place gentle hands around the Greek camper's ankle. He was purely only doing it so the Praetors would at least know he tried to check out her 'injury' before she told them he'd caused her fall. Espen didn't think Praetor Dareios and Praetor Morrigan would put it past him to do that to a Greek. Which he thought was highly unfair, as Espen had been completely courteous to their new house guests. Where was the trust?
Soft fingers ghosted over the ankle in a shadow of a massage, not pressing down enough to actually hurt in case she had broken it - which wouldn't surprise Espen in the least - but just enough to see if he could tell it was swelling. He was no healer, but he'd dealt with a couple of ankle injuries himself, just enough to be able to tell if it was sprained or broken. It was difficult to tell with this one, though; it hadn't started swelling yet, but he could tell by the look on her face that it did hurt quite a bit. Despite his irritation with the girl, it never even crossed Espen's mind to leave her to fend for herself.
Lips turned down a little at the corners at what he had to do next, Espen looked back up to meet the Greek girl's gaze, eyebrows raised as though daring her to challenge his next words. "Alright, princess. How do you want to be carried back to camp: like a baby or like a monkey?"
Mirabella's cheeks reddened in embarrassment as the boy sat up, making fun of her injury and criticizing her lineage. She tried to will the heat away, but the pain was making it too hard to concentrate. Instead she straightened her shoulders, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words landed. "I am so sorry that my injury is such an inconvenience to you. Next time I decide to walk through your camp, I'll be sure to be on the lookout for the pride of Rome as they nap." She knew nothing of the camp, but even she knew that napping during the day wasn't exactly militaristic.
Before she could say anything or move to stop him, the boy leaned forward, his hand lightly touching her skin. She had asked him to call or summon a healer, but she hadn't thought that perhaps he might be one himself. His fingers moved over her foot and she winced only once as his touch sparked pain in her foot. Mirabella was waiting for him to heal her, perhaps speak a limerick that would fix the situation but it never came. Instead the boy frowned, calling her princess and asking her how she wanted to be carried into camp. Mira's eyes widened. "You cannot be serious. Can't you just heal me? I assume you're a child of Apollo?" If not, he certainly had explaining to do.
Mirabella was in no way, shape, nor form willing to entertain the idea of being carried by a Roman into camp for everyone to see. As if she was a helpless child. As if she was weak and pitiful. She shook her head, "No. Absolutely not." Mira was a prideful creature, not as much as some, but personally she would rather dine in the halls of Tartarus than appear to be a helpless vapid maiden that needed saving. Was she a beautiful maiden? Sure. Was she terrible at fighting? Sure. Did that mean that she fit the bill of needing to be saved or perish? No. A resounding no. "Just summon a healer. I can wait here." She crossed her arms, her eyes meeting his head on, refusing to give an inch.
Mira had no intention of backing down or giving in. Not with something like this. She was very well used to being thought of as helpless. It was no secret that she was regarded as a spoiled, untrained, demi-barbie doll around camp, but she didn't care. She knew better. She had her own secrets and knew what she was truly capable of. Talk and judgements never weighed anything against what she knew of herself. She could let all the comments and names go without a single care of them. She knew the truth and nothing else mattered.
This was completely different though. She was not faking an injury just to get a handsome boy to carry her somewhere. A tactic that she had employed a few times in the past. Nor was she playing coy and helpless. She had no control over this. She, quite literally, didn't have a leg to stand on. She couldn't be ushered into camp and carried like a child, affirming to others that they were right. Because it would mean that, at least in this rare situation...they would be right.
She would have nothing that she could hold onto to wave off their name-calling. Whatever was said would be accurate and she couldn't allow that to happen. She pursed her lips, knowing full well that if he decided not to listen to her plea there was nothing she could do to stop him. Mira swallowed her pride, her eyes still never leaving his. "Please." She didn't use her powers. Though the idea stayed in the back of her mind, a safety net in case he truly did not want to listen to her.
Espen couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped from his mouth at the girl's sass. Despite being injured and unable to move to even defend herself should Espen attack, she was still going on and on about this whole thing being his fault in the first place. If he'd been any other member of the legion, Espen was sure this girl would be copping it right now if at least to get her to stop talking. In Camp Jupiter, talk was backed up by action, and considering she had sprained her ankle just from tripping over his body - which, despite her insistence was his fault, was truly completely her mistake - Espen highly doubted she could back up all the vitriol coming out of her mouth.
Shaking his head slightly, the scowl on his face being replaced with a grin as he kept his eyes fixed on probing her injury as gently as he could - a testament to how much he was not taking her insults personally - Espen murmured, "You're awfully rude for someone I could just leave here to hobble back by yourself." His tone was conversational and casual, as though the two of them were just discussing the weather. "And no, I'm not a healer, but I've been in the battlefield enough to know enough about ankle sprains." Deciding there really was nothing he could do about her ankle, he offered her two options of carrying her back to camp, but of course even that graciousness and chivalry was met with stubborn resistance. Espen resisted crossing his arms and facing her down in a mirror pose, because he wasn't quite that bratty.
To his utmost surprise, the Greek girl actually managed to squeeze a nice word out from between her lips: a very begrudging Please. If he had been a lesser person, Espen may have lorded it over her and sneered, but instead the son of Pluto just had a quick quip: "Gods, did you hit your head, too?" A flash of a smirk, before Espen shrugged his shoulders and continued more somberly, "We have this thing in Camp Jupiter - it's called efficiency. Why take twice the time to get your ankle looked at when it could be done at quicker?"
His head tilted slightly as he pondered the proud set of her shoulders and her haughty expression. If he didn't know any better, it looked as though she was embarrassed about her injury; it was the same look on many of his own barrack-mates when they were felled by something small or stupid in the War Games. The son of Pluto hadn't thought the Greeks would feel the same; considering they were all so hopeless in combat training, he'd thought they just no longer felt shame about such things. Was this girl an outlier, like a child of Ares? He'd heard stories about those from some of the legionnaires who's gone up against them in the Ludus. Personally, Espen wanted to strike up a conversation with one just to see if he could irritate them to the point of combustion.
"Are you... embarrassed to be seen with me? Or just embarrassed to be carried?" A light shrug interrupted Espen's words, but he kept his gaze on the girl to show his sincerity - something the Roman felt the Greek was a little undeserving considering her attitude, but at least he could say he'd tried to be civil. "If it's the first, you should know I'm a gentleman - Pride of Rome is my nickname - and if it's the second, I mean, I can let you hobble along with me, but it's a bit of a walk back, especially considering you can't actually walk."
The boy called her rude, hinting that she should be nice to him as if he was doing her a favor by not abandoning her after he carelessly damaged her foot. As if this whole ordeal wasn't entirely his fault. The suggestion riled her, though she knew better than to continue trying to make him see reason. The male species was already severely lacking in that department. Add a generous helping of whatever the Romans were spoon-feeding their campers and she realized that she'd have better luck seeking reason from a rock. Instead she opted for the one thing every Roman seemed to understand: sarcasm.
Mira gave a mock distressed face, batting her eyelashes in exaggeration before speaking, her hand softly caressing his arm that was closest to her. "I'm so sorry, how can I ever repay your generous kindness?" Mira was sure to meet his with her doe-eyes a moment before dropping the act. Her pouty lips turning back into their pursed position that they had remained in for the bulk of this conversation, hoping that at least the gesture had made her feelings known on the subject before dropping it.
The boy commented that he actually wasn't a healer and her lips parted just the tiniest bit in shock that he had touched her for no reason. Thankfully, he continued speaking, bringing up that he had been on the battlefield enough to known wounds and she settled down before commenting further.
"Battlefield…" the word didn't even sound right coming out of her lips. She tried not to sound judge-y but the whole concept of it was beyond her. "Do you all just not go to the movies? Have dances? You know there's a whole big world outside of this place right?" She was genuinely baffled that someone could be so wrapped up in training and bloodshed without losing their minds in the process.
The please that she had forced out of her lips had apparently been to no avail as he snarkily asked if she had hit her head as well. Mira arched one brow while she resisted the urge to speak. She gave up on the idea that he would request a healer. She supposed he did have a point about wasting time, but really it wasn't like there was much else they could do at this point. There certainly wasn't any training that she was missing out on, but again, she let it go.
As his head angled in her direction, his eyes reading over her face she again put up a wall of indifference, examining her perfectly manicured nails. Content with letting him think she was every bit the cold indifferent creature that others had accused her of. As he spoke though, she felt the same frackinging heat cross her cheeks as the Roman stumbled much too close to the truth for her comfort. Mira angled her head, mirroring him as she took time to let her eyes size him up from head to toe before deciding matter-of-factly about him. "No. I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. You're rather handsome I suppose."
Mira put her attention back to her nails as she continued replying, "Whatever would I have to be embarrassed about while being carried? I've seen some of the females in your camp, I hardly think allowing someone to carry me would be grounds for mocking." She let her nails be and put her attention back to him. "I object because it implies a relationship and that is the very last thing I'd like to advertise at the moment. The whole ordeal could scare off potential suitors." She spoke as if the reason was plainly obvious to see.
In a way, the lie was a half-truth. She did find a few of the guys who she had passed to be interesting enough for a second glance, but she never worried about them being scared away by others. As if something so trivial as the threat of a boyfriend could keep potential dates away. Mirabella sighed, waving the proverbial white flag in the air. "Alright. Let's get this over with."
Espen would like to say he'd copped similar attitude from the female legionnaires in Camp Jupiter, but he'd never quite gotten this level of sass, and he just shook his head in disbelief again. It was like the Greek girl knew nothing but snark and sarcasm, and while Espen could appreciate that in a person, he was also not in the least in the mood for it. First, he'd gotten a kick in the ribs when he'd been minding his own business, then he'd gotten nothing but this? Espen liked to think of himself as a patient person, but he'd never been into babysitting, and this one was acting like the epitome of a brat.
Rolling his eyes again, his retort came with a hard grin and a flash of his eyes, his teeth practically bared threateningly in pretense of a smile. "You can repay my kindness by keeping your sarcastic comments to yourself. How does that sound?" The son of Pluto wasn't even the least bit surprised when she dropped her fake nice act within seconds; he had the funniest feeling that if she kept the look-at-me-I'm-pretty-and-innocent look for another second, her face would melt straight off.
As he was examining her ankle and she went off about her perceived lack of modern culture in the legion, Espen only chuckled. The sound was mirthless and quite dry, and his eyes as he looked back up at her were much the same. A smile was dancing around his lips. "I'm not going to try to explain the legion to a Greek whose camp burned down from the inside while they were no doubt watching movies and having dances and exploring the world." And Espen really wasn't. While any other legionnaire may have replied angrily about the superiority of Camp Jupiter in its defense, Espen found he didn't need to bother. Just the fact that the Greeks were the refugees spoke volumes about how well their camp was run and just how superior their culture was. They may not have movie nights or dancing around the campfire in Camp Jupiter, but at least no Roman demigod would dare turn against their legion.
To his surprise, a bit of pink appeared on the girl's cheeks - Espen was half-tempted to reach forward to lay the back of his hand against her forehead. Was she catching a fever? Was the sprain in her ankle reaching her brain? He was even more taken aback when she actually surveyed him, her eyes flicking up and down, before telling him she thought he was handsome. The son of Pluto wasn't really one concerned about his looks or his effect on the opposite gender - he knew he was decently alright and wouldn't really have a lot of problems with girls if he so chose to explore that area. He hadn't told her the things about him being a gentleman and was she embarrassed to be seen with him like he was fishing for compliments. The fact that she'd given him one made him wonder just how much pain she was in to be saying crap like this. His head tilted slightly in an almost-mirror image of hers. She didn't look like she was in that much pain...
He opened his mouth to tell her that yes, a Roman legionnaire being carried like a sack of potatoes would most definitely be grounds for mocking, when the Greek girl then smoothly continued on about being perceived to be in a relationship. Espen blinked once, then blinked again, then blinked once more for good measure. Wow, she had read this whole situation completely wrong, and jumped to some very scary conclusions. "Wait," Espen said, putting a hand up as though physically stopping her words from reaching him. "You think people would think we're in a relationship if I carried your injured gluteus maximus into camp?" His forehead furrowed as he squinted in disbelief at her, lips twisting upwards at the corners. "... What the heck kind of camp did you guys come from?" More importantly, what the heck kind of demigods had infiltrated their legion?
The boy told her that she could repay him by keeping her sarcastic comments to herself and she found herself actually amused at the reaction. He had given her perhaps the most unamused smile a male had ever given her before, paired with a smile that could only be described as threatening. She had seen that certain kind of smile on countless females of course, but rarely had she riled up any male enough to be on the receiving end. She realized that perhaps she had pushed him too far. Even though the situation was utterly and completely his fault, he did offer to help and she supposed that was enough to urge her to curb her mirth. Instead of commenting back she gave him an amused smile, complete with a tilt of her head as if to say, fine, see? I'm being kind.
The simpering kindness that she had been feeling just moments ago was quickly dashed into oblivion though as he commented callously about her home burning to the ground. Her eyes leveled on him. She had never thought she was a particularly sentimental person but as he heartlessly spoke about the only place that she had ever had burning to the ground, as if they were roasting marshmallows in the process she felt heat course through her.
A very rare heat that made her want to punch him in his arrogant face. Her words were low, none of the lilting airiness that she usually spoke with. "I only meant that there was more to life than training. You all act like you're the only ones who ever train. Like we brought it upon ourselves because of our so called laziness. Sure, I am not as powerful as I'm sure you are nor could I ever stand any chance in a fight but others in my camp could." She took a moment to pause only long enough to drive home the point. "They died defending it. Many of them. Do not sit in front of me and dare to cheapen their sacrifice because you were taught that you were somehow better than us. As you go to school and raise your children in your safe sanctuary."
Mira was seething. Not listening to anything more that came out of his mouth. Had she had the one weapon that she was actually good at, she might have actually been tempted to use it. She made herself calm down, demanded that her body breathe and relax. She put her hands in her lap, reminding herself to go back to the place where she had control. He was nothing more than an arrogant and heartless boy. He was not worth her distress. She would not let this go on any further than it had though.
Mirabella tilted her chin to him, meeting his eyes once more, this time again in cold indifference, willing her power into every word she spoke. "Go away and leave me be." She detested the mere thought of pain but she would be dammed before she let him touch her.
And there it was, the explosion of lava and stinging defensiveness. He had watched the blush rise in her cheeks and her eyes grow even more heated until they were practically spitting sparks. Her words were like poison arrows, and Espen would have flinched if he hadn't been already so over her high-and-mighty attitude. The story she painted of their camp was one he already knew from reports amongst the legion, but it had been the first time he'd heard it from a Greek, from someone who had actually been there. If this had been any other time and she had been any other person, Espen thought he could have found it in him to sympathise. Instead, only the tiniest etchings of guilt made its way under his skin, the son of Pluto decidedly far too irritated with her to care about what she said now.
He pulled away to widen the distance between them a little, more for her benefit than his. Espen didn't particularly care if she decided to hit him or shank him in her anger - he had always been far more in control of his emotions and he wouldn't have acted brashly. Despite his usual cool and collected demeanour, though, Espen was taking no crap from this Greek girl. His shoulders rose a little in a shrug, his eyes sharp and unflinching as they gazed back at her. He knew what he'd said had been a little mean, but he wasn't going to apologise for saying the truth. "Can't take it when someone dishes your own back at you?" he enquired politely, the hint of a cold smile playing around his mouth. "You can't talk crap about my legion without exposing your own. And considering you guys were the ones who came here, I think a little more respect would have been expected from you lot."
At that, Espen leaned back onto the ground again, this time using his elbows to keep his upper body at a bit of a distance from the cool earth. It was his way of showing he was pretty done with this conversation, but also still keeping the proverbial door open should she want to keep talking. Espen wasn't one to back down. He may have preferred to be a pacifist, but he wasn't a coward. He was also ignoring the other girl's directive, just as he had when she'd demanded for a healer, because technically this had been Espen's spot first. The desire to move away like she'd told him burned through his bones, but his sheer willpower anchored him to the ground; he wasn't going to back down like a dog with its tail between its legs. She couldn't just make him leave because she'd taken offense to something he'd said. "You know," he said conversationally, now with his eyes looking out over the gardens rather than directly at the girl, "I know Camp Jupiter is better than yours, but I wasn't the one who started that kind of talk up in here. Have you ever considered that actually being nice might get you further in the world than insulting people?"
Espen's tone was even and not in the least bit condescending. He wasn't being patronising or being sarcastic to this girl. Despite her apparent ability to get under his skin, the way she had exploded and now sat in offended stiffness had cooled Espen's own temper down in turn. He had always strove to be level-headed and collected, never having been the sort of person to let his emotions get the best of him - he didn't even have very strong emotions in the first place. She may want to have another go at him if she wanted, but Espen at least was trying his frackingedest to keep his tone civil. Trying apparently being the key word.
The Roman edged slightly away from her and had she not been utterly and absolutely wrathful she might have found that humorous. It was yet another thing that rarely happened to her, at least in the case of guys. Normally she had to charmspeak them away from her, which sounded as tediously annoying as it was. "Respect? You're actually lecturing me about respect?" Mirabella's face betrayed the astoundment that she felt at the words that had just come out of this boy's mouth. "I spoke of your camp's love of sarcasm, lack of furniture, and resistance to leaving your boundaries and you, in turn, made fun of my hurt ankle, brought up the fragility of my camp and everyone inside, called me a princess and rude and then made fun of my camp burning to the ground while those inside perished." She felt as if she was on some sort of a reality show. Was this some awful hazing that they did to others? See who could be the biggest gluteus maximus perhaps? If so, he was certainly going to win.
Mirabella watched as he scooted away from her. Not completely left her like she had requested, which didn’t surprise her much. Apparently the pride of Rome wasn't as good as taking orders as he thought. He spoke about knowing Camp Jupiter was better and she gave a humorless short laugh, "What a surprise." He then asked if she had ever thought of being nice and had he been closer to her, she would have slapped him. She again found herself in a stupor as she listened to his words. "Me? I'm the one at fault because I don't fawn all over your self-perceived greatness? Because I don't think we are below you? Because I criticized you for sleeping in the grass in the middle of a field?" So be it. If he wanted to make her the bad guy he could just get in line with the rest of them.
She was done dealing with him. Mirabella thought about forcing the charmspeak on him again, but with his inability to take her suggestions earlier, she didn't want to waste the energy. She braced herself with her arms, slowly standing up while keeping her foot off the ground. She tried limping forward and found herself hissing in pain. She quickly grabbed for a nearby tree trunk and used it to brace herself before she took a tumble.
Espen was trying, absolutely trying as best as he could, not to lose his temper, but it was getting harder the more the girl talked. It was as though her mouth was incapable of spewing nothing but vitriol. Were all her camp like this? If he had to deal with someone like her all day, he was sure he'd have burned the camp down just to get her to shut up. Heck, he probably would have noped out of that camp if he'd have to stay there for a day more than he could stand. She had some inescapable quality that made Espen want to throttle her. He hadn't wanted to pick a fight with her, he had tried to be cool even in the face of her open hostility, and yet he was the one she was blaming.
His mouth dropped open slightly in exasperation, the wide smile on his face now completely sarcastic as he ran his hands through his hair. "Yes, I'm going to lecture you on respect," he snapped back, words sarcastic but voice no longer playing. Espen didn't know he had a limit to his patience, but apparently he did, and this girl knew how to make him reach it faster than anyone else had ever before. "Yes, because that's what I just did, didn't I? All I suggested was you could try to be nice, two sentences max, and you took that as a lecture - clearly my words were wasted because you are absolutely incapable of it." He really should go away to calm down. Frustrated and completely spent with this conversation, Espen's back thudded against the ground as he lay back down, his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see her annoying face. IF he could close his ears without appearing like a child, he'd do it, too.
Apparently, he would never be at peace while he was around her. Sitting straight back up, the look in Espen's eyes were sharp now, even if the grin was still on his face, turning dangerous now in his temper. "I didn't ask for your judgement! I didn't ask for you to kick me in the f*cking ribs just by lying down on the ground - which, by the way, anyone else can see from miles around. Do you need glasses? Is that your issue? Are you going blind and can't take being unable to see your face in the mirror anymore?" He was descending into pettiness, an ugly colour on him and not one he knew he was even capable of wearing. The ground rumbled under him as he felt his mood fray.
Fingers previously running through his hair now skimmed through the grass as he both tried to calm himself using the earth's steady gravity, as well as try to prevent his emotions from affecting his surroundings. It had been a very long time since he'd needed to deliberately tamp down on his powers - he had been in control of himself for as long as he could remember. He disliked her all the more for it. When he opened his eyes, finally getting his and the earth's heartbeat to a normal tempo, he found the girl had tried getting up by herself and was now holding on to a tree trunk. A savage exhale punctuated Espen's upwards movement as he stood, resolute on leaving her there and letting her walk herself back to camp. Hey, if she had no respect for him or apparently anyone else, he didn't even care? He was for sure not going to be responsible for inflicting her on their healers; she would probably have plenty to say about the Roman medics, too.
Gritting his jaw, he started walking back to camp, passing her within a few long strides. His eyes were cold and his lips were tugged down at the corners as he focused on not looking at her as he passed, because he just knew he was probably going to snap and probably end up doing something he'd get into huge trouble for. Striking injured legionnaires wasn't well-looked upon in camp, considering it wasn't a fair fight, but Espen was horribly tempted to break that rule just for this girl. Another click of his jaw, another few steps. He would do it, he would leave her behind. A hand ran through his hair before snapping to the side in a disgusted movement.
"Can you keep your attitude to yourself for fifteen minutes?" he snapped even as he turned back, using one hand to pull her away from the tree and keep her balance. His grip on her upper arm was not gentle, but at least he wasn't actually shaking her like he wanted to. Calm.Breathe. His face was like a thundercloud, eyes closed and lips determinedly smashed together to avoid saying another thing, even as he coaxed her slowly forward, keeping pace with her slow and broken steps.
It was clear to Mirabella that this conversation wasn't going anywhere. The boy refused to apologize to her. He refused to show even an ounce of sympathy for her camp. He had even had the daring audacity to resist her charmspeak demands. If he was the pride of Rome, she was content with writing off the whole lot of them. There was a reason why the two camps had never met before. A clear reason why they were not expected to be friends and work as one or whatever both camp's officials were promoting. She didn't say a further word as he seethed that she was incapable of being nice though the comment had made her roll her eyes. As if he was the first person to suggest such a thing.
She had been content on ignoring him completely. Then he continued his little rant, accusing her of kicking him in the ribs on purpose. As if he would be worth an injury to herself at all. Mirabella willed herself not to reply, to resist the urge to scoff at the idea that a small girl walking could hurt him so badly. Pride of Rome indeed. He continued his assault on her character, appearance, and morals. Ranting and raving like a petulant child who hadn't gotten his way. And like a child throwing a temper tantrum she waited until he was finished. "Are you done? Do you feel better now?" her tone conveying how very far past she was dealing with him.
The ground below her had rumbled and Mirabella sucked in a breath of surprise, her hands spread out flat to help steady herself against the shifting of earth. Hades. Of course he was a son of Hades. That certainly explained his lack of civility. Mira had decided enough was enough and set it in her mind that she would leave this situation, pain or not. She didn't offer a glance at the boy as he strode past her. She gave him no concern.
She took a step cautiously, her ankle immediately singing in protest the minute her toes made contact with the ground. Mirabella hissed in pain, leaning again against the tree to steady herself once more. She took in a deep breath and moved away, forcing herself to tolerate the pain. Her full weight pressed on the ankle and she felt tears come to her eyes. She knew it was swelling, she could feel the warmth and pain radiating from the area like a poison.
She tried breathing through it, but she was not made of whatever thing her campmates were. She was not made of powerful warrior skills but of beauty and simpering femininity. She was debating on her next moves when the stalking form of the son of Hades, or Pluto rather, appeared. Mirabella wiped the tears away quickly. Her face back to its unbothered natural gaze.
He snapped at her, asking if she could keep her attitude to herself, offering his hand and she pursed her lips just a moment before nodding, "Yes." He grabbed her arm and she was able to shift her weight away from the hurt foot. She took a steadying breath. It wasn't painless but it was leagues easier than trying it alone had been. It took a little bit, but she finally got into a steady, albeit slow rhythm with him.
She knew gratitude was due. Though he had behaved like a barbarian, he had come back to help her. The words were not easy to say, but Mirabella spoke them, keeping her tone sincere and level, "Thank you."
Never had Espen been more pissed off in his entire life. Sure, he had gotten irritated or annoyed, like when some drunk mortal decided he'd make a good target outside a poorly lit gas station on some back road somewhere. His anger had been manipulated by some children of Mars during a War Game. He had pulled on that anger to put in a good effort for his side. Espen knew what it felt like, of course, but he had never enjoyed actually being in a bad mood - and this one single Greek girl had somehow managed to poke him so hard that his anger was taking on an unfamiliar form. Espen knew he was going to need to get out of camp tonight, take Jett and disappear for a few hours, hop on a train with no destination in mind except get away. The fumes of her rage would continue to follow him for miles, he knew, but he was hoping he could wash it from his skin with distance and the loving attention of his loyal best mate.
Her arm was thin in his grip; she was not built like the Romans. Espen focused on that as he supported her, telling himself over and over that if he lost control, she would break like a twig. Breathing long and slow through his nostrils, Espen mentally chanted to himself, Do not slap a Hellhoundess; Do not get in trouble with Morrigan. Camp was only a little while away, he could survive until then. After that, he would ditch her at the healers' and not look back. He'd been sympathetic to the healers having to deal with her, but now he just wanted any responsibility of her off his hands, even if that meant bringing her to someone else to look after. Look at Espen Bekker being all proper gentleman.
To his surprise, they made it a few steps in complete silence. The Greek girl had actually kept her word and leashed in her lovely personality. Espen might have toppled over in surprise. With his hold on her, he felt her whole body prepare to speak, and the male demigod gritted his teeth, readying himself for another round of verbal lashing. If she was going to keep picking at him, he was actually going to leave her there, chivalry be danged...
It was a cool and confident thanks, and Espen was so caught off guard by the civility that he only grunted in response. His eyes flashed to her face, studying her profile to see if she was just being sarcastic, but found no outright hostility in her features. That was probably the nicest thing she'd said to him all afternoon. A part of Espen wanted to niggle at her about being capable of civility, but if she was going to make the effort, then gods be danged, so was he. "It's nothing," he answered, dropping his eyes again to look at her steps, making sure he wouldn't step on her by accident. A part of him wanted to offer carrying her again, but considering how well she'd taken it last time, Espen decided it probably would be a better idea not to. The sounds of the insects singing their serenade to the afternoon bloomed in the silence around them.
Ave, demigod! Over the next month, all new threads created may be attacked by the Fates at any time, unless specified in the subheader. All random events will be based on prompts from the randomizer. Please refer to the event guide #2 for further and more detailed information about your character's possible fate.
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