all summer long || private to my sun and stars;

David set the notepad down on the white slanted desk in front of him. It was full of pencil marks and eraser marks. The only thing consistent about it were the five horizontal lines transecting the paper over and over, and the small squiggle that marked a treble cleff in the left hand margin of the paper. He pushed up his glasses and turned in his chair to glance at the clock near the head of the room. He let out a dramatic sigh to see that he had only been there for about twenty minutes.

David actually despised the arts and crafts section of the camp. It was for the little campers, mainly. However, due to the lack of space in the scheduling of other camp activities, the arts and crafts area was the only place that he could sign up for his cabin to have activities in today. The muse cabin leader had not done too much training with his cabin, since a lot of them were not very talented at fighting. So, here he was, with his cabin, writing music as the other campers fashioned makeshift instruments out of strings, created clay acting masks, and painted wonderful pieces of arts on canvases. Even if David didn't like it, he had to admit that his cabin kind of fit in perfectly here, being talented with many various forms of art.

David turned his attention back to his sheet music, but found that his personal space was being somewhat invaded by a pair of feet propped up next to him. Looking at the feet distastefully, David followed the legs to see who they belonged to. Strangely enough, David did not recognize the camper as someone in his cabin, and wondered what he was doing here. If he belonged to a different cabin, he should probably be doing their activities, not the muses'.

"Uh, excuse me, can you tell me your name?" David asked, politely. He was notorious in camp for having great manners and the kindest disposition that anybody has seen. "I don't think I recognize you as part of the muse cabin," he informed, giving a small and rather sweet smile.

David observed the boy's body position and tone that revealed his thoughts of self-superiority towards David. The degree at which the boy's head was tilted, his open posture, his nonchalant hand gestures. Even when an obvious provocative insult was tossed at David, his face remained completely un-phased, kind smile still plastered to his face. He turned his body in his chair as to more directly face the boy, looking straight into his eyes.

"My name is David Paris Martin," he introduced. Pushing his glasses up on his nose once again, he nodded to the boy who presently remained anonymous. "And now I believe it is your turn. What's your name?"

Even if the boy hadn't noticed, he had given David the information about which cabin he belonged to. Although Zeus was a rather unpopulated cabin much like the Muses, the Zeus cabin was in the middle of the arch, whereas the muse was in the outer edges. Plus, the Zeus cabin was monumental in comparison to David's. David had, in fact, brought up several times about how it was not very fair, but each time he had gotten a reaction rather like the one that the boy was giving now; dismissive and superior.

"Well, yes, in fact it is a cabin. You see," David turned towards the people in the room creating all sorts of magnificently well-done forms of art. "This is the muses' campers. And this is our activity for the day," he explained. He sat up straighter as he looked at the proud work the campers were doing. Then he turned back to the boy. "I was just wondering what it is that you are doing here?" he asked. Although the question might seem a bit rude, David's tone was still nothing less than respectful, and his hazel eyes looked right into the boy's as he awaited an answer.

David let himself flinch just a bit when the boy, now identified at Maverick, called his cabin brats.   They were anything but. Most of them were rather well behaved and polite, like himself. But, put a bunch of teenagers in a room with paint and crafts, David supposed that chaos couldn't help but erupt. But, even from that view point, there was no need to refer to this group of people as brats.  They were David's own brothers and sisters, and he couldn't help but take offense to the comment. And even through that, David kept up his grin.

"Well, they really aren't all that bad, they've just been cooped up," he responded. David noticed the more that Maverick talked, he could analyze the kind of accent he had. It was not unlike his own England accent, but there were some noticeable differences in pronunciation, so David guessed it was Australian or New Zealand. He'd never been to those places, but he knew what they sounded like. Or at least stereotypes of what they sounded like.

David interlaced his hands and put them in his lap. So, this guy had shocked someone. The son of Euterpe was rather unimpressed by the electrokinesis part of the story, but was worried about the boy's attitude. If he was on edge enough to shock someone, and he found the Muses annoying, then David didn't like that math. Running a hand through his brown hair, pushing it out of his face, David let out a breath.

"Well, this is my cabin, that's what I'm doing here," David grinned a little. "Guess that makes me a bit of a brat," he said, light heartedly, but with a rather deeper meaning to it. Maverick was successfully chipping away at the many layers of kindness that David's personality consisted of. The boy had never ever in his life snapped at anyone, so Gods help whoever finally makes him.

David remained silent for a moment after Maverick spoke. He took this time to examine the boy further than he had previously. However in a less judging-for-character way, and more of simple observations. The boy's brown hair was slightly curled and rather messy, even if it was obstructed by a bandanna. It was so much different than David's own hair, which was short and finely groomed. Furthermore, Maverick had green eyes that anyone could get lost in. Although, strangely, David admired them, he forced himself to pull his eyes away. Maverick had a broad forehead and a couple of freckles here and there, dotting his somewhat tanner skin tone. All-in-all, David assumed from his appearance that he was good looking, but kind of disorderly.

David's eyes flicked down to Maverick's hands as he picked up a sheet of paper. The corner of David's mouth turned upwards a little. He thought that maybe the boy was about to draw something, and watched kind of expectantly to see if the boy was very creative. One of David's eyebrows raised in confusion when the boy tore off a corner of the paper and stuck it in his mouth. Was he eating it? Feeling goosebumps begin to erupt on his skin, David almost shuddered. As forgiving as he was, this behavior was almost too strange for him. He was just about to turn away when he witnessed Maverick spit the wad at one of the campers who was minding his own business painting on a canvass.

"Do I- what?" David's eyebrows scrunched together a bit. "You could have hit that boy," David said. He hoped that maybe he didn't mean to hit him. He wanted to expect the best of Maverick, but there was almost no mistaking the situation. "You do realize that these are my siblings, right?" he asked, incredulously. "Why would I want to hit them?" David was almost a little offended that Maverick asked that. David would never do such a thing as that. Actually, perhaps if it was his twin, and he was angry... but other than that, David wouldn't even give the idea a second thought.

David was on the verge of incredulity, unable to believe Maverick's attitude and intentions. How could anyone be so devious as to intentionally cause discomfort to someone? He couldn't really speak for anyone else, but it sure would have bugged him to get hit by someone's spit-paper.

As David watched, Maverick loaded up another spitball right in front of him, and spit it at one of David's half-sisters. He watched three different emotions sweep over her in record time: shock, confusion, and aggravation. He felt really bad for her, but did not reveal her assailant, not wishing for her to believe that he was in on it. When Mav offered him a turn, he was appalled.

"No, I don't want to," David said, shaking his head furiously. As enticing as Maverick's inviting accent was, David knew there was bad intention behind it, and therefore did not even begin to give in. He wished that he could have believed Mav was a genial person, but the evidence pointed to the contrary, and it disappointed him. He gave his head another shake. "If being kind and considerate is boring, I'd want to be boring every single day," he replied.

A devious thought entered David's mind at the present. He could always sell Mav out to an instructor. Or, perhaps easier, require that Maverick's punishment be switched to a different, and possibly even a more difficult task. However, once again his conscience got the best of him. If he was in trouble, he wouldn't want to be put in more trouble, so why would he put someone else in more trouble? Deciding to keep quiet about the situation, David resolved for a different solution.

Pushing back his chair, the Muse leader stood, and moved down the long craft-table something of five or six chairs, where there was another empty place. He took a seat in it, now separating himself and the influence by the use of a few of his siblings. Slightly more contented, David pulled a piece of paper before him and began to doodle, constantly lifting his eyes. If he saw any more spitballs, he would surely rat him out.

David was a little more at ease now. The room seemed a bit more quiet, and there wasn't a large distraction around him. Although he wasn't a talented visual artist, he found the he was able to amuse himself by focusing on his drawings. They didn't turn out half as well as he had expected, but he didn't really mind the finished product so long as he was filling his time with something. The mickey mouse he was attempting to draw looked like a rat with some sort of facial defect.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, and of a brown-haired figure to the side getting up. If he wasn't in focus, he would have turned to look and recognized the son of Zeus. However, he remained oblivious to whoever had stood. He didn't even notice as the boy began to revolve around the room, drawing nearer to David's chair. Only when it was too late did he realize that Mav was up to something.

David made an indescribable sound when the sensation of a shock buzzed up his spine and through his skull. Perhaps it was a yelp overwhelmed by a large intake of breath, so that it was kind of like a choking sound. It wasn't that the shock was overly painful, but that it caught him completely off guard. It left a feeling in his glutes that felt like it does when one's foot falls asleep. David's head spun around rapidly trying to see what had sent such a surprise through him. However, the only eyes he met were those of confused and perhaps concerned siblings. David, growing embarrassed, let a deep pink color fill his cheeks.

He was just about to look back down at his paper when his eyes caught Maverick's, across the room. Eyebrows partially raised, and a haughty smirk plastered onto his face, Maverick was definitely giving David a challenge. David wished vehemently that he could be determined to beat Maverick at this game he was playing, but he was already losing. The blush on David's face transformed soon into a heated look of anger. His head turned to the clock at the front of the room. It was maybe ten minutes premature, but David decided he'd had enough of the arts and crafts room. He stood up, and almost immediately and low-volumed talking ceased and all eyes were torn from their projects and set upon him.

"Hey guys, I'm going to call this one a little early," he announced. Already, a mutual feeling of dismay was dispersed into the crowd of campers. "You guys can feel free to remain here and work on your projects, but anyone who wishes to move on to another activity may do so." Finishing his announcement, he gave the group a smile. David then slowly turned towards Maverick. He looked straight into his green eyes and gave him a look. From David, it was a foreign look. Few, if any, had seen it upon his face, however Maverick should have known it right away. It was a look of annoyance and, possible, hatred. With that look and not a thing more, David grabbed his spiral from the table and started for the door.