you gotta fire up || open

blake had a no bullshit attitude. if you made a mistake, you own up to it. if you stole a candy bar, you confess and you take the consequences like a man. if you got in trouble that was your own damn fault and she sure as hell wasn’t going to bail your ass out of jail even in your time of need. of course, that’s exactly what made her a hypocrite. instead of going to her superiors and telling them that, yes, she did smash the vase in the hallway, that, yes, she did pull little suzy’s pigtails (though in blake’s defense that little brat deserved what was coming to her) that, yes, she did do these things for attention, blake merely pushed it on the back burner or put the blame on somebody else. years of doing this had made her adept at covering her tracks, so it wasn’t surprising that blake didn’t get into trouble when she had painted the ares cabin hot pink. blake’s reasoning? she was bored as hell, and it seemed like a fun thing to do. another kid got blamed for it, and the demigod was guilt free. that was the best thing about her. she also had no remorse for anyone else. 

currently she was lacing up her combat boots, getting ready to stab a dummy, wanting to feel red gush between her fingers, knowing that she had made a kill. blake, in a word, was rusty. over the years here at camp, all she did was train, and she had the physique to show for it. her bones had a couple of inches of well defined muscle on it, her fat at a low percent. however, blake was short and quite stocky, and she didn’t have the curves that a brazilian supermodel would have. still, she loved to train, and her body showed it. today, though, there was something wrong, because all of a sudden blake felt a lump in her throat from thinking about the kid who got blamed for her actions. was this guilt? the demigod decided to ignore it, and blocked out everything until a boy came up and tapped her on the shoulder, starting to talk.

“i wouldn’t spar with you anyways. i like to fight alone. solo. without anyone else.” blake said, though her voice didn’t have the venom it usually did. “we can go somewhere else if you like.” why the hell was she trying to talk to this guy? blake hardly ever talk to anyone, what made him so different?

everyone that knew blake at least slightly, knew that her childhood wasn’t great. in fact, it was complete shit. by the time she was four and able to remember things forever, her grandparents and so called mother had ditched her at a foster care home because they had grown tired of her, and from there things got even worse. the couple that took care of about fifteen kids were not adept for parenthood. they loathed most of the kids there, and the ones they didn’t became bullies themselves, so as to always secure a spot in the limelight. it was easy to say that blake was not one of the favourites, and yet she still became a bit of a bully. blake liked to put salt instead of sugar into the kids’ cheerios, she liked pushing them roughly against the wall. she was only tamed when her two best friends, etta and alex came to the house when she was about eight. while blake was still a bully, she had calmed down a lot when she was around them. everything was all about survival to blake, and she knew with her two friends she could. 

but at camp, everything was different. this was the same type of survival that blake had experienced back home, yet she had to completely recalibrate herself in order to do it. instead of salt in the cereal there were maces to swing. instead of merely pushing a person you stabbed them to protect yourself. blake didn’t mind that, because she knew it would ensure her own life to continue. that was why she was at the arena all the time; to better herself. yet she had grown bored, and though she didn’t particularly like the smug charm of this boy, blake decided he was better than nothing. blake raised her eyebrow when alfie started to talk and crossed her arms. he would get annoying for sure, yet she had made her decision right when she had started talking to him, and blake was going to see this through to the end. the demigod lowered her dagger onto the floor and huffed. gods damn it it was hot. no, not hot, sweltering stickiness. she followed the boy out of the arena before speaking. 

“my name isn’t blondie, jackass. it’s blake.” despite her short and stocky build, it wasn’t hard to keep up with alfie. she didn’t like him, finding alfie to be rude and condescending towards others, but she supposed he was better than some other boys she had met, who treated her like some cinderella type character who needed rescuing. “where the hell are we even going?"