All the rain [Twine]

And the rain came down. And down. And down. It didn't seem to have an end, just a perpetual curtain of water brushing over the camp. It said something about Marius' loathing of his cabin-mates that he was seeking shelter from it in the forest and not in the actual Ares cabin. His hands tucked firmly in his coat pockets he leaned back against the pine tree, shifting until he found a position where bark wasn't actively digging into his back. Like any smart camper he had a short sword with him, just in case, though it was currently lying discarded at the base of a nearby tree. He was only on the edge of the forest after all, it wasn't exactly Monster Central.

He shivered slightly as cold fingers of rain began to work their way down his back. His hair was already plastered to his scalp and by the feel of it it wouldn't be long before his coat was soaked through. Sighing he straightened up from his rest against the tree and looked hopefully at the sky. Still no end to the rain in sight. At least it was keeping the other campers away, because if there was one thing Marius couldn't stand about this bloody camp was the bloody campers, half of whom were literally bloody most of the time anyway.

Why on earth anyone would think to go trekking through the woods in the middle of a rainstorm was beyond Avery's comprehension. Well, anyone besides himself, at least. For Avery, the rain was a breath of fresh air. It meant people were boarded up inside, nice and cozy with a book or something else. It was that time, when everyone flocked to the shelter of the cabins that Avery decided a little bit of forest exploration would be best. Hera was always crowded, and the last thing he needed was to have a plethora of drenched campers hovering around, soaking his bed and talking over his thoughts. It was just a headache. In comparison, a lonely forest seemed welcoming.

But damn, the boy could use a cigarette. His lighter was in the right front pocket of his jeans, which were already heavy with rain and stuck to his legs, hidden under a heavy blue sweater. Mental note--don't wear cashmere during a storm. His clothes slowed him down tremendously, and every movement sent a chill down his spine. Avery considered walking to the camp store and grabbing some chicken noodle soup since he was out anyway, and he figured he'd need it later.

Every few steps Avery whipped the matted tufts of hair from his bangs out of his face, and shivered involuntarily, eyes glued to the ground as he walked down the borderline of the forest, just far enough inside that he stayed out of view from any campers who might still be out on the basketball courts or whatever. After a short while of continuing on like that, Avery found himself haulted, stuck ankle deep in a puddle of mud. He cursed audibly and tanked forward, splashing through the thick, watery earth until the land was just a little more tolerable. He found himself close to a tree, a big pine tree whose branches seemed to be weighed down by the rain. And, oddly enough, a few feet away from a burly looking blonde seated by the trunk. "Yo."

God. The campers got everywhere didn't they. They were like an infestation of fleas, you thought you'd finally managed to be free of them all and then you found one in your sweater. And seeing as it was pouring down, this was like finding a flea in a sweater that you'd already flea-bombed: unexpected and irritating. He sighed. He should probably make an effort to be civil or something, on the off chance that this guy was the one person in the camp who wasn't a complete waste of oxygen, carbon and sunlight. He was working himself up to some kind of genial greeting and then the other fellow spoke.

"Yo."

He gritted his teeth, thoughts of a genial greeting gone. Where was the sophistication in this place? You didn't even get a hello here, it was 'yo' or 'sup dawg'. American slang. How he hated it. It was for the plebs of the working class, symbolised all that he despised about them. They couldn't even speak properly. His tutor would have a fit at their enunciation.

"Hello." He couldn't quite keep the sneer out of his voice. "Enjoying a nice walk in the rain? Because you can keep walking." Marius looked him up and down with distaste. The guy was wearing jeans for gods-sake. Leaving aside the fact that jeans were horrifically impractical for the weather, they were an ugly piece of clothing to wear no matter the weather.

"Hello."

No, no, no. Avery was already done. He could tell this guy was some overly-ambitious, arrogant tool with a presence he believed to be above all else. Some scholarly doucher with a holier-than-thou attitude, Avery was sure. The guy probably thought Avery was a peasant--in fact, he knew that's what the prick was thinking. He could here it in the way he said hello. The tone was acidic.

Avery clenched his fists together, his eye twitching just slightly in irritation. He tried to clear his head. Alright, go in. Play nice. Get cigarette. Get out. Within the last week, Avery had had his fair share of douchers treating him like crap. He was meant to get a shipment of about five dozen Bolivars to be delivered to his home to be picked up. When he got there, two boxes were missing. He'd paid full price from a new supplier, who'd since disconnected the phone line. Already, Avery had a bad taste in his mouth.

He reached around to his back pocket and revealed a tin flask, plain and scratched from use. With trained fingers he quickly popped off the cap and took several swigs, feeling the burn of the drink as it ran down his throat. A little something to dull the sense of aggravation with this kid. Not that it was the first drink he'd taken today. Avery had, for lack of any better way to phrase it, pre-gamed. It helped calm him, and he always wrote better after a few shots.

The world had already been a little tipsy when he'd emerged from the cabin to adventure through the woods. A few extra shots wouldn't alter him too badly. Probably. But now he was in need of a chaser. Which brought him back to his first thought, something that had slipped his mind. "Aye, you got any cigarettes or cigars? Forgot mine in the cabin when I rushed out."

His nose wrinkled as alcohol fumes drifted his way from the bottle in the guy's hand. This guy was really rubbing him the wrong way. First it was the slang and now he was sloshing alcohol down his throat like it was late night Friday. And it wasn't. Wasn't even Friday, let alone late at night. Marius took a careful step back from him. Who knows what this uncivilised brute would do when he found out that Marius did not have any cigars on him. He could snap, though judging by the state of him his mind snapped long ago.

"Look, I don't have a cigar on me and even if I did you're the last person I'd want to give it to." The only person he shared his cigars with was his grandfather, and that was largely because he didn't have much choice in the matter. The old wardog simply rolled into the room and applied his 'what's yours is mine' philosophy to the cigar packet. Marius flicked a dank lock of hair out of his eyes, feeling the water slide down his cheek which was already numb from cold. His lip jutted contemptuously as he looked at the tipsy mess in front of him. He was blessed to be from the upper class where the people were actually worth talking to.

Avery's nose wrinkled as well, though not from any sort of smell. Unless personalities could smell bad, in which case Marius' smelled like butts smothered in poo that hadn't been washed in a few days. "Excuse you. Was the last part necessary? I think not. Neither is putting my foot up your ass but I might do it anyway you pretentious terd." He rolled his shoulders and crossed his skinny arms. "What's your problem, dude? I've never done anything to you." He rolled his eyes and his arms dropped, hands searching for and jamming into his jean pockets with his thumbs jutting it. He felt the lighter smooth under his finger tips. "Hell, I've never even met you before. Is this how you treat all people? 'Cause if so then it's not a wonder why you're out here by yourself." There was no amusement in his stern blue eyes. Just a bit of anger and drowsiness, which was strange because it was freezing out and he had a constant wake-up call pouring from the sky. Water dripped off his nose and ran down his face from his brown hair. "What about a cigarette?" They were more common to carry around--though there was a high chance that this kid had never had a cigarette in his life. Probably thought himself too high end for such things. Nerd.

Necessary, no. Entertaining? Yes. Insulting people was the only thing in this camp that Marius thoroughly enjoyed and he got a lot of practise. He almost laughed as the other guy threatened him. He'd be lucky if he could even get a foot to Marius' 'ass'.

He sneered as the teen shoved his hands in his pockets and continued his mini-tirade. "Says the person who is also out here by themselves. You're obviously no great shakes in the relationship department if we use that logic." It was true, Marius did tend to greet people with hostility. He'd made an effort when he first arrived to be civil but after being disappointed so many times by the quality of the people he met he'd opted for hostility from the get-go. It saved time.

"Cigarettes? Do I look like the kind of person who'd use cigarettes? They may be good enough for you, but some of us have standards." They were cheap and nasty, a working class substitute for high quality cigars. Not the kind of thing you'd see in the mouth of a Cavello. He straightened up, really letting his height show. The coat was truly drenched now, just a damp weight on his shoulders that swung heavily as he moved.

Avery had had enough of this guy's crap. He really just was not in the mood. Nobody should have to put up with this. It was disgusting how this... this boy treated people. Unfortunately for him he decided to insult the wrong guy on the wrong day. Avery had no problem breaking first-class jaws. With a quick movement his hands were out of his pockets, and he used one arm and forced it forward, putting the palm of his hand on the larger blond's chest and pushing him backward towards the tree. "Do not screw with me, doucher." Avery's voice had gone down an octave, and he shook his head in warning, turning around to head out of the woods and back to the cabin. Suddenly, his bunkmates seemed a lot more welcoming.

Marius felt his back bump against the slick pine trunk again ad he stared, slightly disbelievingly at the other boy's hand against his chest. He thought he could just push him around like he was trash, like he was nothing? His ancestors had probably kept this boy's ancestors as slaves. Someone needed to learn a bit of respect for their betters. He began to tremble as the other boy started to walk away, and this wasn't from the cold. Snapping, his leg lashed out at the other boy's retreating legs and then he was pouncing forward, shoving a forearm at his back.

"You might be able to intimidate the rest of the bloody cattle in this backward camp with your threats, but I'm not like them. I probably get it from my father." His father Ares, god of War. This might not have legions of soldiers dying, but it was still a war.

As he moved away, something hooked on his legs and threw off his balance. Avery grunted as he felt a sharp pain nail him in the back. He stumbled forward and splashed into the mud, coating his pants and, more importantly, his beloved sweater in brown slosh. A string of bewildered curses left him, and he wriggled around, out from under the square brute. "I swear to the Gods you do not want to start with me." He could feel the juice he drank at work, his ears radiating with heat. No more nice Avery.

The moment he got free, Avery threw himself at Marius, arm already tucked back with fingers curled up into a tight fist. He threw it forward with the bullseye being Marius' fat jaw. As his battle reflexes kicked up, time began to slow, allowing Avery time to think. For a short moment as his arm extended and his knuckles shot towards the boy's face, Avery wondered how many split knuckles he'd have by the end of the night. He also thought about how many of the doucher's teeth he could knock out, if any. That'd be fun. The guy thinks he's perfect? Let's mess him up a little.

He could almost imagine a circle of grubby school children surrounding them, screaming fight, fight, fight in their shrill little voices. It was exactly the kind of thing that was appropriate for this juvenile scrap. Avery squirmed out from beneath him and Marius sprung up, turning to face him just to feel his fist glance off the side of his jaw. He stumbled back a step and shook his head slightly, feeling dizzy from the collision. Stepping quickly inside the range of his fists he grabbed the idiot's sweater, feeling the water heavy cashmere beneath his fingers. He yanked on the cloth, shoving his knee up towards the twerp's nose as he did so. His blood was starting to rise and everything seemed that little bit sharper, the sounds of the water drops, the iron tang of blood, everything.

Avery was on his feet, rolling his shoulder and trying to recover from taking an elbow to the spine when he felt himself tossed forward. The bugger had hold of his fantastic cashmere sweater and was using it to hold him in place. Before he could register it he had a kneecap smashing against his nose. There was a frightening crack as they connected, and dark blood went spewing out of his nostrils as if his brain had exploded and the remnants were leaking from him. He snorted and whipped his head back and fourth, sending blood spatters at Marius.

"I hate people like you. So. Much." Avery threw himself back, feeling a minor tear his sweater where Marius had been clawing at it. Now a gaping hole was in its place, but he was free. And what to do with your newly gained freedom? Smash the guy who took it from you in the first place. Avery grabbed onto Marius' shoulders and ran, forcing the oaf back. He dug his feet into the mud and twist his torso in an attempted throw, not off the ground but just to make the enemy trip backwards, into that conveniently placed pine tree. He let go and trusted momentum to do the rest.

There was a part of his braining saying 'Ew. Not on my coat' as Avery splattered blood everywhere, but that was only a small part as the rest of it was currently occupied with grappling with his opponent. The brute had him by the shoulders and was charging him backward. His hands scrambled in front of him, once more grabbing the shoulders of Avery's sweater just as Avery thrust him forward and let go. There was the sound of strained wool finally giving in to the pressure of the fight and then Marius was left holding two halves of a sodden sweater while falling toward a tree. His shoulder smashed into the pine with a thud that managed to convey the sickening reality of bones snapping and flesh bruising with extreme accuracy. Marius bit back a yell, his lips thin and pale as he rose and awkwardly tossed the sweater into the mud that had been churned up by their fight. The rain was still falling but he was numb to the cool spray now.

Marius stepped forward and took a jab at Avery's gut with his good arm, then twisted round to grab Avery's wrist. With a smirk and a gasp he began to apply pressure, bending it back on itself.

Avery yelped angrily as he felt the cold of the rain splash his shoulders and stream down his bare chest. He looked even scrawnier than before, without the extra material of the sweater. But that certainly didn't make him less scrappy. Before he knew it though, Marius was back, and very, very angry it seemed. There was a reverberation of skin as the boy's knuckles met Avery's torso, and he doubled over, questioning whether or not his organs had just exploded.

But the guy wasn't done. No, as Avery was down, he'd found Avery's arm and grabbed the wrist, forcing it back with surprising strength. A sharp howl filled the air, which Avery soon realized was his own, as the bone crushed under the pressure and something rupture. He wasn't quite sure what, but his hand went limp, and there was a flare of pain in his arm, met with pins and needles. Avery's eyes squeeze shut and he fell to his knees, clawing helplessly at the larger boy's legs and punching at his shins weakly. There wasn't much he could do when the guy had an iron grip on his--presumably broken--arm now. Well, maybe not the whole arm, but like hell if Avery knew. All he could tell was that it hurt like nothing else he'd ever felt. Then again, he'd never broken a bone before. Through sharp, pained breaths Avery managed, "I... will.. kill... you."

It was one thing to be a prick. It was one thing to not offer up cigarettes. But it was another thing entirely to rip off a man's sweater. And then rip it in half. Not okay. Not in the least. Maybe it was the alcohol that had Avery so enrage. Or maybe it was just the fact that that had been a goddamn good article of clothing. Regardless of the reason, Avery was pissed. "You... will... pay!" His second wind had arrived, supported by anger and vodka, and Avery sprang off the ground as quick as he could, aiming his entire body upwards towards Marius' face, launching into a headbutt.

Pain that had been held off by the adrenalin of action began to flood in, sloshing out of his shoulder to fill his body. Everything hurt. It was making it hard to move or even think. Marius shook his head slowly and let Avery's arm flop to the ground where the hand lay contorted at an odd angle. The other hand was clawing at his leg and then a loose swipe caught him off guard and he toppled down. Avery's words hissed into his ears and Marius shuddered. "No you won't...no you won't." He repeated the phrase in a mumbled mantra as though it would ward off the pain. Feeling Avery squirm for advantage in the mud beside him, Marius thrust his good hand out wildly and it closed on the cold metal hilt of his sword. The sword he'd brought for monsters. Maybe he'd known he'd need it for this human one.

Marius rolled onto his side, his bad arm flopping uselessly. Avery's bare chest was smeared with blood and mud like warpaint, a dangerous tribal swirl. Lashing out with the blade he felt it bite deep into the other boy's shoulder only stopping as it hit the collarbone. Marius yanked it out, ready to use it once more. But as he tugged on it, it popped free of both Avery and his fingers, flying into the moss clinging to the roots of another elderly pine that stooped over the clearing. A low groan escaped his lips.

A rush of pain flooded through him, and Avery let out a mix of a groan, a whimper and a gargle as something plunged deeply into his claviclem, piercing the bone and fracturing it into multiple pieces. It was a wonder Avery didn't pee himself at that point, what with the extreme pain and stress, mixed with the fact that the world was spinning. Even the rain was against him, falling in sheets, making that familiar sound of liquid dropping like pee might in a toilet bowl. Avery noted that as soon as he got out of the woods he was running to the bathroom. Then? Infirmary maybe.

Avery glanced down, and though he could only see the very edge of the wound, it was obvious how bad it was, with blood streaming freely down his chest and dripping to the ground in alarming quantity. Okay, so infirmary was a definite.

"I've just about... had it... with you.." It took all that was left of his strength to crawl to the tree, and he used it to pick himself up. There was a branch just low enough for him to reach, and he raised his arm to grab it, pulling down. The branch bent but stuck, so Avery took one for the Avery team and lifted his legs, allowing his weight to hang from the bark. It was thick, but not enough to carry him, and eventually snapped under his weight. He fell to the ground with an "oof!" And incoherent grumbling. Probably curse words, but it was impossible to tell.

He drew himself up off the ground again and gripped the branch between blood stained fingers. "I just wanted a frickin' cigarette, man." He panted, raising the make-shift club over his head and bringing it down on the back of his enemy's neck with as much force as he could put into it. The boy had been on the ground, belly down, and looked like he'd been attempting to get up. A chunk of wood to the spine otta stop him, Avery figured. And if it didn't? Well. To be sure the job was done right, Avery lifted the branch again, spraying himself with water and mud, and pounded it back down on the boy again.

Marius just couldn't muster the energy anymore. Everything seemed so far away, like he was looking at it from the wrong end of a telescope. Avery dragging himself to his feet seemed distant, like it wasn't happening at all. A thought drifted into his consciousness. He should probably get up. Marius began to kind of weakly push at the ground, but it was like a fish trying to walk: there was something crucially important missing. In the fishes case it was legs and in Marius' it was the ability to independantly control his muscles. A second attempt managed to lift him off the ground a few centimetres but it was only to be brought back to ground by a smashing force on his back. The first yell of the entire fight was ripped from his lips and he felt tears mingle with blood from a split lip. His back now felt like one huge bruise, with a thousand little bruises all crowded on top of it. This, he imagined, was what it felt like to be trampled.

He shuffled slightly to one side, trying to get away from what was obviously an Avery with a vengeance. If the idiot had taken his suggestion when he first arrived and kept walking, none of this would've happened. It all seemed stupid now. There was no need for Avery to start a fight over Marius not having cigarettes. Or had Marius started it? Everything was starting to blur into an unidentifiable soup of confusion. Using his good arm he began to push himself up again, fingers digging into the cool mud. This action was only met by a second whistling crack, this time to his neck. He could feel bones splintering from the impact. Marius let out a scream that lasted only a second before a tide of black swamped him.

As soon as Marius collapsed, Avery dropped the branch. It fell and stuck in the mud with an awkward squish, and Avery let his head roll back, which only brought excruciating pain to the wound in his collarbone. Another note to self: don't do that. Fresh blood gushed from the hole and ran down the path it had carved in his torso. Strange, wasn't it? That after one drip, you could tell the pattern of every other drip with the same mass. They'd all fallow the last one, which all followed the first. Though, with all the mud mixed in and the smearing, it seemed like his entire front was a path. This was somewhat irrelevant, Avery realized, and he wondered what prompted the little tangent of thoughts. It occurred to him then that he might be drunk, which he was thankful for. He was sure it dulled the pain of his wounds. Later, that might be regrettable, but for now?

Avery gave himself a weak pat on his good shoulder. "Way to think ahead." He congratulated himself, before crawling out of the mud. He got a few feet away from Marius before walking was too hazardous. The ground was spinning. The trees were shimmering and waving in his eyes as a bright light flooded in. For a brief moment Avery was staring at the sky. Then he was staring at the backs of his eyelids, body dropping onto the ground involuntarily. That last thing he could remember was that he could really use a cigarette.

He'd gotten a call. Quentin didn't like getting calls to go off and hunt down two fighting morons in the middle of the woods. In fact, he generally didn't like morons in the in first place. Quentin's gaze danced around the forest in front of him as he padded along, looking for the two lost fools. He wasn't particularly happy to be doing this instead of working with Maria, the completely unstable girl in the infirmary. She'd been admitted there on multiple counts of insanity from a quest through the Labyrinth and Quentin had been taking care of her for the last week and a half. So far, the girl had taken quite a liking to him despite her slightly homicidal and murderous tendencies.

Quentin glanced at the scribbled out notes on his hand. He'd scrawled them on there quickly when he'd gotten the call about the fools. It had said that there was a lot of blood and quite a bit of broken bones and a broken neck. So, the son of Apollo just brought about everything and anything he could find for those types of situations and threw it all into a bag. Now, he was just walking around in the forest--almost aimlessly--looking for the two morons. Out of nowhere, Quentin's foot found something wet and squishy and he looked down, only to find blood beneath his foot. Quentin sighed impatiently. If they had lost this much blood, they'd be in worse trouble then he'd imagined.

Quentin gazed about the scene, regarding each boy with a fixed look of annoyance. "Honestly..." he complained, crossing his arms over his chest. Quentin padded over to the first boy whose neck was bent at an awkward angle. He bent down and placed two fingers over the boy's neck trying to locate a pulse. Once the pulse was found, Quentin moved on to the other boy who was literally covered in blood. Quentin figured it was the boy's own blood since his nose was still gushing. The son of Apollo rolled his eyes and grabbed the other boy's wrist for a pulse. Again, the pulse was found and Quentin stood, frowning slightly as he wasn't quite sure who to tackle first.

Distantly in the back of his mind, Quentin wondered who had started the fight. Well, it was obvious who had won judging by the blood. But, with the injuries on both boys, it could've been a tie.

Maybe it was good that it was raining so heavily out. It made passing out for prolonged periods of time more difficult. It almost cleaning Avery's hair and face of some of the blood stuck to it--though he was far from clean. The battlefield he stuck in looked like it was taken straight out of Lord of the Flies, with the wild kids smeared in blood and half dead. Avery had even gone so far as to lose his shirt for the occasion--though certainly not by choice.

He was chest down with his face sideways, one half in the mud and the other in the rain. The cool water helped him to stir a little. He let out a pained groan and squeezed his eyes shut, muttering words that his mother would likely bash his head in for. Though, Marius had already done that for him. His arm slid across his ground and, after a moment of getting his barings, he attempted propping himself up on one elbow. Avery didn't bother attempting to his his hands yet. He knew at least one of them would be completely worthless to him and likely howl in protesting pain to any movement he might try to make with it.

It was a miracle the Avery managed to lift himself to his knees, where he arched his back and moaned at the vicious stab wound in his shoulder area. Better his shoulder than his neck, though. Hah. With a gentle turn of his head he looked at his enemy, a crumpled mess on the ground. He neck looked a little... er... bent, to put it lightly. Probably thanks to Avery's branch beating. It made him smirk a little.

The next thing to occur to him was that there was a third party member here now, stationed between the both of them. He seemed to be glancing back and fourth between the two battered boys. Not that it was any surprise to Avery, he'd probably be confused too if he saw two dead guys and this much blood. His next move would likely be to poke one of them with a stick, but that was irrelevant. Finally, Avery's mind drifted to his original inquiry. "Yo." He hesitated, in part because of the pain and in part because of the pain this question had already brought him. Then he decided, to hell with him, he was already half dead. "Got a cigarette?" The weakness in his voice even caught Avery off guard. Apparently, he'd really gotten the crap kicked out of him. Well, maybe that was already obvious by the amount of blood that covered him. Still though, at least he wasn't the other guy. "Cigars work too... Got my own lighter."

His neck didn't feel like a neck anymore. It didn't feel like anything except pain. All the other cuts and bruises over his body were secondary to that. Even his shoulder was about the size of Mercury compared to the Sun that was his neck. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there but the rain still hadn't bloody stopped. He could hear movement around and then someone grabbed his hand. Marius froze. Was that Avery come to finish him off? He'd be surprised, knife wound had been pretty nasty. Though the pleb had still managed to beat him with a tree branch so perhaps Avery had also recovered quicker. However his hand was only briefly fondled and then left to itself in the mud. Not Avery then, someone else who had the decency to only temporarily harass his hand.

He stayed frozen anyway, despite the dubious friendliness of the stranger. Not because he thought it was a good idea but because moving seemed like an awfully bad one. He heard Avery mumble incoherently about cigarettes. Mumbling incoherently seemed like something he could probably do just as well as Avery so he gave it a go.

"Don't... give that eejit a cigarette. Or a bloody cigar. He... doesn't deserve a thing." His words were interspersed with little gasps as his lungs tried to work while crushed against the ground, but at least they were audible. He probably looked ridiculous talking to them as he lay face down in the mud and blood of the clearing, but looking ridiculous was the least of his worries. Besides he could take comfort in the fact that Avery probably looked even stupider without a shirt on and covered in blood.

Quentin started towards the boy who had asked for a cigarette, shaking his head, but a voice behind him stopped him in his tracks. "Quentin!" Quentin's head swiveled around to find Kacey, one of his siblings. "Yeah?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. His sister was out of breath so it took her a moment to respond, "Maria... accident... fire... go." Kacey gave Quentin a shove in the direction to go back to camp and Quentin merely responded with an 'oof.' Kacey gave a tug on her bag and started towards the left, the boy with the neck twisted at an odd angle. Obviously, his neck was broken or something of the sort. Kacey dropped to her knees in the mud near the boy with the messed up neck and gently prodded his back. "I'm giving you ambrosia, ok?" She said this gently, as though to not scare him. Although, he didn't look like he'd be frightened of much.

Kacey reached into her bag and pulled out a tin can of salve and a baggie of ambrosia. She broke a piece of the godly food off from the bigger chunk and awkwardly tried to place it in the boy's mouth. Then she realized that he was at a very awkward angle. Kacey let out a soft sigh and placed her left hand on the top of his head, and her right hand near his chin. She gave a soft, little turn and stuffed the ambrosia into his mouth. Ugh, she hated touching mouths. Unless it was with her own, but nevermind that. "I'll be back. In the meantime, try not to choke." Kacey's eyes twinkled with amusement at her own joke.

The daughter of Apollo made her way over the shirtless boy and she pulled a small bottle of nectar out of her bag and handed it to him. "Try not to drink it all," she said, lightly. The girl opened up the can of salve and glanced up at him, her brown eyes easy. Like a cow's. "By the way, I'm Kacey. Also, this'll be cold." She gave a slight warning as she scooted around in the mud, so she could see what she was doing. Kacey pulled her hood back so it was out her eyes and then she began spreading the salve over the wound. As she spread it, she periodically would reach for her tweezers that were in her lap and she'd pick out bits of debris from the wound. "Jeez... you guys, you couldn't do anything less dangerous? Perhaps fighting with bulls, or jumping in front of buses?" Kacey snorted delicately.

The cold salve on his shoulder would do the disinfecting for her so she didn't have to worry about cleaning the wound which was always good for her considering she forgot to that sometimes. Kacey closed the lid on her supplies and stood up, crossing back over to the other boy again. She knelt down next to the boy with the broken neck and felt a pang of compassion for him. That pang of compassion fizzled out when she realized how stupid he was for getting into this fight in the first. Not to mention, she couldn't help but find it it funny how they were both lying in the mud like broken cartoons. In fact, she found this quite hysterical and could barely contain herself as she began sliding the salve along the scrapes on the boy's face.

Avery was still in the same boat. No cigarettes. No cigars. Nothing to smoke. By now he'd probably say yes to crystal meth if he was offered, but he doubted anyone would have that, either. Plus, he'd probably spiral into a horrible depression and addiction if he tried that, again, and it wasn't something he looked forward to returning to. But that was a story for another time. Basically, he was stuck. A girl appeared from beyond the trees and said something to the boy who'd confessed his lack of cigarettes with a silent nod of his head. He stumbled back towards camp, and Avery groaned.

The brown-haired, brown-eyed girl seemed to be here to stay though, and she seemed to be carrying a pretty big bag with her. That was good. Probably supplies. Avery guessed it was an Apollo kid, come to help out. She moved towards the big oaf lying face down in the mud and Avery watched as she cradled his head, altering the position of his neck slightly. He considered telling her it was broken, then thought, nah, she likely knew that herself. And if she didn't? Well. Marius in more pain didn't exactly bother him. The idea was actually enlightening, especially after the eejit comment.

From the mud Avery produced a rock, no bigger than a bankside pebble, that was covered in the sludge from the rain. He tossed it half-heartedly at Marius, and it bounced off the guy's butt. "Stupid. All this because you had to be a smartass over me asking for a cigarette..." Not like Avery was guilt free, but in his own mind? Hell yeah he was.

The girl moved to him next, and he watched her curiously. He was going to ask for a cigarette, but it looked like she was pre-occupied tending to their wounds. And that was certainly no easy ordeal. He'd have to thank her for that later, assuming he wasn't dead. She placed a bottle of nectar in his hands and he drank it unsparingly. It soothed his wounds a little bit, but it also cleaned out the dirt stuck in his mouth, grinding in his teeth. Only a small bit was left at the bottom, and he only left it because she told him not to finish it all.

The nectar helped, but it didn't do much for the fresh pain every time she poked him with tweezers. "Aye, ow, ow, holy crap." Avery saw little splintered pieces that he thought could've possible been some of the fractured clavicle. He muttered choice words and let out pained sighs as she worked. How long would it take him to recover? If he had to spend any amount of time stuck in the infirmary with that passed out brute in the mud, it would only be a matter of time before he turned suicidal or homicidal. Not that he hadn't practically been the latter already. When Kacey joked about their fighting, Avery laughed, which brought a fresh wave of pain. He flinched and stuck the bottle of nectar in the mud like a cup holding, using the newly freed hand to wipe damp hair out of his face. "I did fight with a bull... A stupid, pretentious bull."

There was a further murmur of voices, something about a fire, and then a new person crouched down beside him. Female this time, which was good. Less chance of a testosterone fueled fight there. She proceeded to twist his head and shove ambrosia down his throat, which was not good. If he hadn't know that it was help (or been incapacitated) he would've fought against it.

There was a sudden impact with his butt and he flinched slightly, clenching. The acidic comment from Avery made the source of it obvious. "I wasn't the one who started this," he tried to say through his mouthful of ambrosia but it came out as more mumble and less sense. He swallowed the rest in one go, feeling it soothe his body as it passed through. His neck went from a raging fire to a gentle flame, gentle being relative. It still hurt like hell but it was a manageable pain, not something that blanked out your mind. He waited a moment for the ambrosia to really get to work then pushed himself quickly onto his side so he could actually see. "Oof." The air rushed out of him as pain and the world rushed dizzily into focus. There was a girl. Pretty. There was Avery. Not. And then there was the mess of the clearing which looked like an amateur artist's studio that had been trashed.

Avery was an absolute mess, wincing to himself every couple of seconds as the girl excavated his shoulder. It was almost comical, he jumped almost every time she touched him. He'd at least given as good as he got, though a broken neck was going to be a damned pain. "At least I gored you like a bull, though I prefer to think of myself as a lion. Much more majestic. Judging by the, er, finesse you handled that tree branch with I think we can safely assume that you're more along the lines of something big, dumb and uncoordinated." He flicked a twig at Avery's feet awkwardly. It didn't do much but it was the gesture that counted.

The girl returned to him and he smiled up at her through a bruised face. "Thanks darling," he managed to croak out as she began to treat his face. With his free hand he pulled the finger at Avery behind her back.

Kacey chortled at the boys' comments towards each other. She sensed sort of a hostile nature between them but she couldn't tell if they had been fighting as friends or fighting as enemies for real. Kacey's hands moved over the boy's skin delicately, easing some tension out of the vertebrae near his neck, not directly on it. Neck injuries could really be tricky and honestly, she didn't want to mess with this one. Even though the ambrosia had gotten the most of it, he was still going to need a brace for a while.

Moving down to the rest of the boy's body, Kacey placed a hand on his shoulder delicately. She moved around her head, feeling for breaks or bumps or anything else abnormal. Finally, she felt something beneath the skin and Kacey's eyes fluttered shut as she worked a bit of healing magic on his dislocation. She felt a tug in her stomach pulling her towards the boy, but she held her spot in the mud. When she felt like it was good, Kacey stood from her spot in the mud and gave the boy a smile. "It'll be sore for a while, but just rest it and you'll be fine."

Kacey crossed the clearing again, sighing slightly. The rain was relentless and her hair was pretty much soaked. Well, she did have her hood down in the rain in November, so she had it coming. Thank goodness for her strong immune system. Kacey plopped herself down next to the shirtless boy and gave him a warm smile. Kacey's frown disappeared slightly when she noticed the boy's hand and how it was twisted at an odd angle. A wrist break. She couldn't tell how bad it was, but as she applied a slight pressure, she could feel the break in his wrist.

"This'll feel good, don't worry," Kacey assured the boy, gently picking up his hand and delicately placing her other hand on top of his wrist. The boy's fingernails and fingers were bloody from what Kacey assumed was clawing during the fight. Huh. She thought that only girls clawed during fights. Closing her eyes, Kacey felt her healing powers move up through her veins and flow into the boy's. She could feel the break mending itself under the demigod's skin. In a few moments, she opened her eyes and gave him a grin. "All better?"