Horse-Toilet. (Open)

Subject: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Sat Nov 12, 2011 4:24 pm

Charlotte had a desperate look on her face, the kind of look you get when you're speaking in an important business meeting and realize you really REALLY need to go to the toilet.

In other words, strained and embarrassed.

She was sprinting down toward the lake in exactly the opposite manner to a snail. A frantic glance around revealed no-one watching her, though a nasty little voice added a yet to the observation. It wouldn't do for anyone to see Charlotte in the state she was in, being the new girl and all. Nothing harms your reputation like being seen running through the middle of camp covered in horse poo.

She'd been exploring the new camp, checking out the horse stables and what-not. A reasonably harmless activity one would assume, but now one was coming to realize that even the horses were dangerous here. It had only taken one little slip onto the hay strewn ground for her to land beneath the rear end of a horse that was beginning to unload, and the result had been a gigantic pat of fresh, steaming manure adorning her chest.

She now stunk like a dead fish that'd been dancing the samba with something rotten.

The lake was her only chance to avoid the nickname 'Horse-Toilet'. Hence her completely un-snail like sprint to the pier. All she could hope for was to look like a loony who swam in her clothes, rather than a poo-covered reject.

Anything was better than 'Horse-Toilet'.

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:03 pm

You know your day can only get better when you see a girl running to the lake covered in poo.

Roman had had a pretty miserable day. He had woken up aching on the ground, having fallen off his bed early in the morning, and had had to endure feeling pretty stupid because he was seventeen and he wasn't supposed to need bed rails anymore. Not that he did need them.

Then he'd managed to get caught in a food fight at breakfast, and had been hit with an unusually hard apple that broke his nose. He'd been fixed almost immediately with some ambrosia and a little nectar, but he was still pretty pissed off.

After that, he had stormed to the library to give off a little steam, and in his anger had managed to rip the pages right out of his favourite book.

It was a measure of how bad the day was that he had actually resorted to swearing for the first time. Him. Roman Hawthorne - well-spoken, well-mannered, well-dressed, dignified Roman Hawthorne of Athena.

The girl covered in dung was the icing on the cake. He'd normally have chuckled a bit, but instead, he only sighed wearily and dragged his hand over his face, before striding over to her from his reading place under a tree. If this was what having a barmy day felt like, he didn't want anyone else to have to endure it.

"Excuse me?" he said, his British accent sounding a tad bit off as it usually did when he was feeling particularly upset. "Are you okay, miss? Do you need aid in any way?"

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:46 pm

Charlotte could see the lake's inviting waters mere metres ahead of her. It was only a matter of a few measly steps before she would be stench and dung free. She readied herself for the plunge into the, no doubt icy, water, her flesh breaking out in goose-pimples at the thought.

Five steps.
Four.
Three.
Tw-

"Excuse me?"

The British voice came from behind Charlotte, completely upsetting her rhythm. Predictably, she tripped almost immediately, tumbling over her own ankles and landing face first in the sandy slush that bordered the lake.

"Are you okay, miss? Do you need aid in any way?"

The voice came once again, the words cruel taunts in the face of her condition. Charlotte felt like yelling at him, or better yet, coming up with a suitably withering sarcastic retort. She probably would have done too, only her mouth was full of grit.

Spitting a gob of the stuff out, Charlotte climbed to her feet, looking suitably murderous.

"I was sorting myself out, mister. Until some dolt yelled out and bloody distracted me."
Charlotte put her hands on her hips and gave him the female death-stare. One raised eyebrow, thin lips, the stare sent men cowering when used properly. It was the secret weapon of woman everywhere, and had been well employed by her mother to keep her in line.

To be honest, she was glad it was a boy. Most of her friends back in Manhattan had been boys, and boys were much less likely to pour scorn on her for a bit of dirt than girls.

"If you don't mind, I'll get a bit of this damn gunk cleaned off. Then we will talk."
Charlotte tempted a small smile and took her hands off her hips. The guy had been trying to help after all. She couldn't be too harsh on him.

Charlotte slipped into the cool lake, shivering at the temperature. It wasn't as cold as she'd thought it was going to be, but it was a close thing. She furiously scrubbed her singlet with one hand. It would be completely unwearable now, except possibly for stable-work. She wouldn't want to risk another item of clothing to the unrivaled staining powers of horse poo. Once the worst of the mess was scrubbed off, she turned back to the boy and floated on her back looking at him.

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:14 pm

Roman almost laughed when the girl face planted herself into the wet sand that came before the lake. He didn't mean to be nasty, but it was quite comical - a girl running, covered in brown slush, only to fall and get covered in more brown slush. He only just managed to school his face into one of polite indifference when she jumped up and began yelling at him.

To say he was surprised was an overstatement. He wasn't surprised at all. He hadn't had much dealings with females, but the ones he had met (like the only girl he'd ever dated, who later smashed an ice cream cone complete with ice cream into his hair when he pointed out she had something in her teeth) were very melodramatic. Not one to be fazed easily, his left eyebrow rose higher and higher with every venomous word, and it was obvious he thought she was bonkers. He didn't exactly appreciate being called a dolt, but he guessed he sort of deserved it. He had made her fall, after all.

She swore a little more, excused herself, gave him a small smile and then jumped into the lake, clothes and all. She resurfaced and began scrubbing herself furiously. "A bit feisty, aren't you?"

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Sun Nov 13, 2011 8:47 pm

"Feisty?!" Charlotte spluttered as she accidentally swallowed a mouthful of water. "I guess you could say that, yes."

It was, in fact, one of the frequent observations made by her old friends in New York. It seemed she was already showing her true colours.

"What's your name then? I feel stupid thinking of you as 'guy'."

Charlotte made a few strokes toward the shore, passing over a myriad of stones embedded in the lake bottom. Little strands of mud-encrusted weed drifted eerily from beneath the stones, creating an odd monochrome garden. A few mud crabs scuttled sideways, their pincers daring her to put her feet down. Not that Charlotte was stupid enough to. She was keeping her feet well clear of the odd littl world beneath her.

She rose out of the water when she reached the shore, her grey singlet dripping and her denim shorts a heavy, cumbersome weight. The dung had made a large brown stain on the front of the singlet, a nebulous mass of blobs and dots that formed a blot the the size of her face. Charlotte never knew horses held that much dung inside them. It must be quite a relief when they go to the toilet, she thought to herself. Imagine carrying around a couple of pounds of waste each day.

Sitting cross-legged on a grassy bank, she patted the ground beside her. "Come sit down. I promise not to hurt you." She gave him a mischievous grin, her eyes twinkling. "Much."

"So, what do you do at this camp? What's it all about?" She waved her arms expansively. "All my Mom said was that my Dad was some god, this 'Apollo'." Charlotte made air quotes around the gods name. It was probably all some elaborate hoax.

"Cos', to be bloody honest, I have no idea."

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Mon Nov 14, 2011 3:03 am

"I'd rather not, thanks," Roman replied, almost curtly, when she offered him the oh-so-magnificent seat that was the wet grass beside her. "No offence meant, but I'm not sure the smell of dung comes off after only a dip in the lake. Although I must say, that patch of brown on the front of your top is quite becoming."

He gave her a brief smile, to let her know he was joking, and set himself down a few metres from her, where it was cleaner and less wet. A slightly awkward way to talk, but he shrugged. "My name is Roman Hawthorne, daughter of Athena. And 'this camp' is a safehaven for demigods." He looked out into the distance, where, backed by the setting sun, two boys clashed swords. A rather picturesque view, really. "We come here to learn how to defend ourselves against the monsters who want to kill us. We also do the dirty work for the gods, and some people get sent on quests."

He'd never been sent on a quest before, and although the thought intrigued him, he was all too happy to stay here. He wasn't the type to fly bravely into battle, brandishing a sword and a look of pure determination. Rather, he'd sit on the sidelines, calling out advice. Maybe throw in a couple of extra swords. Shout out tactic.

He frowned when she mentioned Apollo as her father, and noticed the way she said his name, as if she didn't really believe it. The phrasing of her question also made it sound as if she had know idea who Apollo was, other than the fact that he was a god. "You don't know who your father is?" he asked, incredulously. Everyone who came to Camp Halfblood knew who their parent was. He, even more so, having grown up with a Greek Culture professor as a father.

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Mon Nov 14, 2011 3:33 am

Roman Hawthorne. The name fitted the guy, though it might have been more suitable if he was 'Greek' Hawthorne. Being the son of a Greek god and all that. She wasn't annoyed that he'd refused her offer of a seat. If the seat had been on the property market, it would have been the property that was devalued because it was located beside the local dump. Or possibly the sewerage works.

She listened as Roman talked about fighting monsters, training and quests. The son of Athena - she was supposed to be the smart one, right? - sure knew what he was talking about. And it all sounded so... exciting. She probably shouldn't be pleased that monsters were trying to kill her, and she wasn't, but the idea of actually doing something with her life and learning how to fight, that interested her. Quests sounded like her cup of tea, as the British would say.

"Wicked..."

The word slipped through her lips, a breath of air that could barely be heard. It wasn't something Roman probably wanted to hear, so Charlie did her best to control her eagerness.

She scowled at Roman's next words. "Course I don't know who my father is. I never even met him before." Charlie glared at him. "All I know is that he was some Greek god that had powers. Something to do with the sun I think. Or was it the moon?" She looked askance at him, before another question sprang into her mind. "Since we're demigods, do we get powers? Like, can I blast things with moonlight or whatever?"

This was a critically important question in Charlie's mind. It would fit nicely in with her image of a monster slaying hero if she could fry them with moon-light.

Subject: Re: Horse-Toilet. (Open) Thu Nov 17, 2011 3:29 am

"I'm not quite sure about that," Roman replied dryly. He had seen new campers get excited before; their heads were filled with images of slaying dragons and blasting away demons with fire from their hands. In his cabin, being the blunt one that he was, he was usually one of the ones to inform the children that, really, being a demigod wasn't anything special at all - aside from the fact that you barely lived past twenty-five.

"I apologise for bursting your bubble, but most of us are incredibly normal. Some might even go as far as to say 'boring'. You get gifts such as those from your parent, and they don't usually bestow the honour, unless the child has some kind of important destiny to fulfill." He shrugged. "Most of the time, the only things you get from parents are personality traits. Your father is the god of many things, but most associate him with the sun, music and the arts. Don't be surprised if you find yourself with a sudden affinity for opera singing."

A sudden image of this rather uncouth, untamed, fiery girl participating in as distinguished an art form as opera burst forth in his mind, and it was all he could do to keep himself from falling into an undignified burst of laughter. His lips pressed into a firm line, and his eyes watered slightly.

"At any rate, you'll find out soon enough what your father has blessed you with." More chuckles threatened to be released. "I'd recommend following your half-siblings around the camp - many of them head to the amphitheater, which is typically Apollo domain. If you have any aptitude for music, you'll know there."

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