[deerington] au threads; chb

[laruetheday]

[ Easiest way to get to Camp Half-Blood is via the city, so that's the way they go. A taxi ride from Queens to Long Island, then a short walk, and they crest a hill, and there's the camp. It's still strange, for Clarisse, after all these years to go from one of the most crowded cities on earth to the rolling hills and valleys of the camp. She can't imagine what it must be like for someone who's literally never been here before.

The first indication that this isn't a normal summer camp is the copper-colored dragon. It lies sleeping, curled around a large pine tree at the top of the hill, smoke rising lazily from its nostrils, and as Clarisse approaches, it opens one sleepy yellow eye and stares at her, and then at her companion. ]

Hi. It's just me. [ Smiling, she gives the dragon a little nudge with one hand as she passes by, and it settles back into its doze. On the other side of the hill, down in the valley, is a large farmhouse. Beyond it, what looks like various buildings designed with Greek architecture in mind, including a circular ampitheater. There's a lake, endless strawberry fields, and in the distance, the ocean—but there's also a climbing wall with what looks like real lava pouring down one side, and what looks like a real, working forge.

Clarisse shifts from one foot to another, seemingly not sure where to go from here. ]

So, [ she says after a moment. Awkward. ] This is it.

Comments

[laruetheday]

There were about twenty when I left, but the summer session hasn't started yet, so it's probably not very full right now.

[ Clarisse swings the door open, eager and apprehensive, and steps in. It's only been six months since she left for school, in this universe, but for her it's been a lot longer. She doesn't think any place will ever feel as much like home to her as the Ares cabin did for the seven years she spent there, and she's a little worried it won't look like she remembered it, but it's largely the same as it was when she left. The punching bag is in the corner and the CD player with the collection of rock and metal CDs they've built up over the years is next to it, and there's a table that's ostensibly for playing cards but really just so they can arm wrestle or play bloody knuckles or five finger fillet. On the far wall, names have been carved into the wood, the letters jagged and etched with a knife blade—an Ares tradition when new campers get initiated. There are lots of names, the oldest ones faded with age, and many have a single line scratched through them.

The beds are set up like they would be in a barracks, singles with trunks or duffel bags for the campers' belongings set at the end. There's a somewhat disjointed feeling to the decor, with posters and polaroids stuck to the walls next to spears and swords, and there are various pieces of armor set out, helmets and greaves poking out from under beds or leaned up against them. Like she'd figured, though, a lot of the beds seem to be unused right now. ]

It's not... like... fancy or anything. [ She lifts a hand and then drops it back to her side. ] But this is it.

[armd]

It's cool. (as if abby was expecting it to be fancy... it's summer camp, it's where kids go to fuck around for a couple months a year, right? she likes the slightly feral touches to the place anyway, the punching bag and the random posters and polaroids strewn over the walls, the names carved haphazardly into the wood. she's stepping across the floor now to go and look at them because she wants to find clarisse's name, and once she's picked it out she reached up to trace it with her index finger, scratching at the rough edges.)

It looks like you. (not– the name on the wall. she glances over her shoulder, dropping her arm.) The whole cabin, I mean. Is everybody in here the same age?

(abby's lived in barracks before. she was in them at the stadium before she climbed ranks enough to get herself into a six bed, then a four, finally a two. they can really suck sometimes.)

[laruetheday]

[ Clarisse is shaking her head as she walks to the back wall. ]

Kids show up between ten and thirteen, usually, and stay until they either age out or get killed, so there's always a mix. Ares cabin tends to skew younger than some, though. Oldest is head counselor, and I got the job by the time I was thirteen. [ She pulls on a claymore mounted to the wall and grins when a rope ladder drops down from a loft area above. ]

Come check this out. This is where I used to sleep. [ She starts up the ladder. Because, duh, no head Ares counselor worth anything sleeps in the same room as the grunts. That would just be humiliating. ]

[armd]

Oh, you're head counselor huh. (abby's shaking her head even as her attention is immediately drawn toward the sudden appearance of the rope ladder,) Those poor kids.

(clarisse undoubtedly would have been a very... interesting camp leader, that's for sure. talk about a power trip. she's grinning ruefully as she grabs hold of the swinging end of the rope ladder and gives it a good shake while clarisse is still climbing up the last bit of it. just to give her a hard time, before she hauls herself up it after her.)

This place is fucking huge. (all of it, the cabin, the grounds, the whole goddamn area.)

[laruetheday]

Wait til you see the arena and the woods. [ Fun stuff, Abby! Clarisse pauses midway up the ladder to roll her eyes—she's climbed up this thing while it was on fire, so a little shaking isn't going to throw her off. Then she's up and over the side, waiting for Abby to follow. ] And former head counselor. Gave up the job when I left for college.

[ Now it's her brother Sherman's job to boss the other Ares kids around and play general whenever the camp is being attacked by, like, titans or Mother Earth or whatever nonsense Apollo is up to these days. Her brother Sherman who is sprawled across what used to be her bed, tucked deep back in the loft, dead asleep in the middle of the afternoon. Also, he's taken down all her Metallica and System of a Down stuff (!!!) and put a Babymetal poster (!!!!!!!) on the wall directly over the bed. ]

What the fuck...

[armd]

Oh good, so I don't actually have to listen to anything you say? Got it.

(she won't be too mean to clarisse though... she wants to see the arena, and the woods. and the armoury, she's still thinking about that. and there's the whole thread of college, too. abby's dad went to college. that was something that a lot of people did in the old world. she supposes they have a version of it now, because people still decide to become doctors, or teachers, or scientists, that kind of thing. it's less official, that's all. you don't get a mug and a ring and a piece of paper any more.

she's got her mouth open to ask clarisse about college, but clarisse interrupts her instead with indignance, directly toward a kid lying sprawled out on a bed. whoops. they were talking pretty loud before, it's a good thing they didn't wake him up.)

Are– people supposed to be up here, right now? (maybe he felt sick or something.)

[laruetheday]

Gods, you're so lazy, [ Clarisse says, kicking at the bedframe hard enough to rattle it. If Abby's glad their talking hadn't woken the boy up, Clarisse doesn't seem to share the same consideration.

The boy jolts into a sitting position, already snarling and ready for a fight even half-asleep. He's maybe sixteen or seventeen, tall and muscular with a scowl very similar to Clarisse's, though that's where any physical similarity ends. "What the fuck is your problem, Clarisse?" he's grumbling, still getting his bearings, and then: "What are you even doing here? Couldn't hack it in the real world? I'm not giving up head counselor."

Clarisse rolls her eyes. ] Just here for a visit. Abby, this is my little brother, Sherman. The laziest one.

[ "Hey, what up, she's a liar," he says, casually extending a hand in Abby's direction. "Sherman Yang, head Ares counselor." ]

[armd]

Little brother, huh. (clarisse he's huge. abby shakes his hand with interest, her wariness over waking him erased completely by their back-and-forth. clarisse acts toward a younger sibling exactly the way that abby would expect her to, and there's something reassuring about that.)

Good to meet you. I don't have a fancy title. (isaac wasn't into that kind of thing, and 'top scar killer'... she's keeping that one to herself, thanks. it would be weird to have to explain all of that here.)

Which one was yours? (the whole place is pretty decorated... it's interesting, abby kinda like the opportunity to snoop.)