Meeting Three: A Crummy Date (Private)

((Now in third person, because I feel like it'll be easier to describe things like that.))

Deimos Seo stood impatiently at the centre of the mess hall, waiting for his date to arrive. He wasn't particularly impatient because his date was late, he was simply impatient because he was... Nervous? The feeling was one he wasn't familar with.

For a guy who was about to go on a date, he didn't look that impressive; dressed in a simple set up of T-shirt and jeans, much like the clothes he wore on a regular basis, but slightly less fitted. The sleeves of his T-shirt were rolled up, not because it was too hot, but simply out of force of habit. His exposed arms were covered in thin pale scars that gave the impression that this was the sort of guy who got into a lot of fights. Deimos was somewhat ashamed of them, as they showed every blow that had been landed, but had no intention of ever hiding them; they were a lesson after all.

He looked up at particularly nothing and wondered when that girl would show up. A girl who he had met at the fields, and then later in the stables. She was a bit crazy, in his opinion, but she was definitely beautiful, and something about her was pleasant to him. Before coming here, he had done a little bit of research and had found out what her name was, since it probably wasn't a great idea to go on a date, and never know the girl's name.

She seemed to be a kind of high class girl, and wondered what kind of a date she was expecting. Either way, he figured this sort of thing would surprise her.
He wondered what she'd wear.

~Er I've been stalking these date topics. This one isn't for you hun, sorry.~

Alex Dashwood wrote:

Mason was eating a burger when he saw a guy nervously standing around. He laughed out loud.

Sorry man, forgot to mention this was a private RP

Scratching her arm absently, Melinda wondered if what she was wearing would be considered acceptable or something. She had never been on a date before so she had asked her sisters for help. In the few hours they had before the date to prepare her, they had taught her (with their years of experience) how to dress, how to act, what to expect. Naturally, they had applied make-up to her face but she had managed to remove the bulk of it. Now, all that remained was tidbits and little areas of make-up. A touch of mascara, some light pink lip gloss. Resisting the urge to run back to the cabin and seek refuge, Melinda swallowed her pride and strutted her stuff.

Figuratively, of course. She didn't actually strut over to him. Gods, that would be just mortifying. No, she walked over to him with a trained stride in her two inch silver heels. As a daughter of Aphrodite, she was an expert in the art of walking in high heels. For years, she had been training for this very day. This day where Melinda Larkin would walk gracefully, elegantly over to the man who had asked for her accompaniment on that fine night (of course, he hadn't really asked her, but she was ignoring that at the moment). She would smile, and hurry towards him and then...

Trip.

What? No! This hadn't been in her dream of a prefect date. Regaining her composure, she straightened and prayed that he hadn't noticed her momentary loss of balance, cheeks flushing with the embarrassment. Smoothing the skirt of her knee-length, white cotton dress, she remembered her dress. One of her favourite dresses, she had worn it often before but not so much anymore. She was afraid of soiling it with the constant fighting, action and gore. It was simple, but pretty - just the way she liked her things. To compliment the beautiful simplicity, she had left her hair down, having not wanted to fuss over it and style it in a complex way.

Closing the remaining distance between them, she eyed the cabin leader of Ares warily and paused a little way off in front of him tentatively, not sure what she should do. "Nice to see you again." She said, deciding that would be the best thing to say out of all the choices in her head. Twisting her shield wristband nervously, she relaxed at the familiar weight of the item. Surprisingly, she had left Savage back in the cabin, she figured that it would be safe enough with this hot shot Ares guy so she figured no weapons would be required. Even so, she left on her wristband. Better safe than sorry.

(( Wait wait wait, this date is going to be crummy? O . O ))

As the girl strode into the room, Deimos looked her up and down, clearly impressed by her looks. Sure she was kind of overdressed considering what he had planned, but it wasn't like he told her and damn, she looked good. Confident stride despite being in heels and being forced onto this date with him, to him, she gave the impression that she was almost too good for him.
He found himself wondering if she really did outclass him when suddenly... she tripped. She looked so embarrassed; it was kind of cute.

"Yeah same," he responded when she stopped in front of him, "You look fantastic." A compliment seemed obligatory, especially since she really did look fantastic. She had a simple elegance about her physicality that was attractive, yet a strange... crazy... tripping personality that seemed to completely contrast it. Not that he minded the craziness. There was a certain charm to that too.

He stopped himself from staring at her for too long and glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact with her. "Guess we oughtta get started..." He turned around and started heading for the kitchen door, not looking back to see if she would follow.
Once inside, he finally looked at her expectantly, as though looking for a reaction. Motioning towards some hooks that were supporting several aprons, he grinned, "Grab an apron. Let's get cooking."

(One way or another, this date's gonna be crummy XD)

Noting that he seemed to avoid her eyes, she wondered if he was uncomfortable or something. She thought about this a little longer before remembered that he had said something about her appearance. Compliments were nice and all, but she was so used to receiving them, and they were always the same. About her looks. Seriously, it was nice to know that she looked good, but there was a real personality along with that pretty face. Most people didn't care. "Oh uh, thanks." She said to nobody, shaking her head as she realized he had disappeared.

Following Deimos into the kitchen, she looked around curiously. Interesting idea for a date. If this could even be considered a date, sure they had both called it a date but what exactly was a date? Wasn't a date supposed to be agreed upon by both partners? Had she even agreed before he walked out of the stables? Oh well, they were there now so it would be smart to just make the best of it. Grabbing a sky blue apron like he had told her to, she put it on swiftly and hopped up next to him, eyes shining with excitement she had last experienced when she was a child. What had happened to those lovely, carefree days?

"Are we cooking something specific or are we experimenting?" Melinda asked, tipping her head to the side as she examined his grin. Didn't seem like he smiled often, but the grin fit pleasantly enough. Nice to see that this tough guy was capable of showing some form of happiness. Glacier eyes scanning the room once again, she remembered the last visit she had to the Mess hall, excluding meals of course. Sobering at the memory of the intense fight she had initiated with Anstice, but still not regretting it. He'd needed to learn things.

What the heck was she doing thinking about another man while on a date? Shaking her head, she looked back at Deimos pointedly.

(( PFFT, WHAT WERE YOU DOING UP AT 2 AM, SHOULDN'T YOU HAVE BEEN IN BED? ))

Deimos was surprised to see Melinda's face light up. He must have underestimated her, taken her for some high class "everyone does everything for me" kind of chick. The girl's acceptance of the date definitely upped his opinion of her, you know, took the crazy down a notch.
The cheerful look on her face was also kind of interesting. Had he ever seen her smile before? If he did, was it ever as cheerful as this? He wasn't normally the type to notice people's emotions or whatever.

He pulled a plain white apron off its hook and put it on and washed his hands, "Thought we could make dinner. Then eat it. Or throw it out if it sucks, I guess." Not that Deimos thought the food would turn out badly, after all, living the life of a latchkey kid kind of forced you to learn how to cook.

"Anything you wanna eat?" he began drying his hands, "I'll make it for you." He was hoping that the girl would mention something he actually knew how to cook, though... well, he was pretty confident in himself and his abilities. There were some fancier dishes he didn't know how to make, after all, he was no four star chef or however they ranked cooks, but he did know how to make some pretty standard meals. Staples, like lazagna, and he knew how to make quite a few korean dishes as well.

He turned around just in time to note a seriousness on Melinda's face; he wondered when he became so attentive of people's faces. Suddenly, she shook her head and looked at him intently. Deimos found himself taken aback, and stared back at her, unsure of how to react.

"Yo, what're you lookin' at?" He finally said after a few seconds of staring. He noted that it came out of his mouth sounding quite a bit ruder than he intended, but it was too late to regret it.

(JUSTICE NEVER SLEEPS)

A guy who could cook, that was pretty impressive. Melinda herself had very limited culinary skills, she didn't really spend any time honing those abilities - instead working on her swordsmanship and more important talents. Deimos was pretty independent, she had noticed, saying that he would make it rather than them making it together. Most would suggest cooperation but then again, he wasn't like most other people. Deimos needed some other category for himself or something.

Actually, I was thinking about another guy. Biting back the response she had almost said out loud, she almost left out a soft exclamation of relief that her tongue hadn't slipped but she squared her shoulders instead. "Well, I was simply marveling at your charisma and was wondering how such immense charm could be contained in a single creature." She said lackadaisically, bopping her head in agreement before fixing him with a scalding stare. If he was going to be gruff, she would be harsh right back at him. She kept this look up for a brief moment before turning and moving around the kitchen.

"Make whatever you're good at. Surprise me." She said, wishing she had a hair tie or something of that sort to hold her hair back. Planning on whipping up a special sort of dessert which had been in her family for generations, she murmured something incoherent before continuing to check off a mental list of supplies she needed for the recipe. Yep, everything was there, you could count on Camp Half-Blood to be well-stocked.

Chewing on her thumbnail for a little bit, she stared at nothing in particular before looking back at Deimos momentarily. She felt a bit sorry for her outburst earlier, she realized her reaction had been more on the drastic, unnecessary side. An apology was required but Melinda was far too stubborn to offer one. Her pride just wouldn't allow it. Thinking about what she could do instead of apologizing, she was about to sift through her pockets when she realized she didn't have any. Cursing inwardly, she managed to keep her displeasure inconspicuous. Well, now what? Fuming mentally, she glared at the shiny sink trying to think of something to do.

((FFFF- IT'S ABOUT TIME I REPLY TO THIS.))

"If you need help..." He muttered, as though he didn't really want her to hear. Not that he didn't really. I mean, girls needed help, right? Plus, being near her... that would be nice. Because she was attractive. And yeah, and girls need help. And maybe then she'd be less mad at him.

He began cutting a few ingredients. Every now and then glancing over to Melinda's area of the kitchen, trying to figure out what she was making. He wasn't a huge fan of surprises. If his birthdays were any indication, surprises usually meant disappointment. Or sometimes violence in the case of sneak attacks. Either way, surprises were usually never a good thing.

As he watched her furtively, she began to look agitated, searching around her every now and then. Deimos began recognizing this pattern of paranoia within the girl. It was strange that a girl who seemed to have no problem with standing up to him could become so easily frightened by spiders and... whatever she was scared of right now.

Deimos frowned as he continued cutting, not particularly focused on the meal he was preparing. He was too busy watching the girl, wondering what her problem was. He wondered if there was any way he could stop her from being so on edge all the ti-

"FFfffGODS" Deimos loudly exclaimed rather suddenly, clutching his index finger. This wasn't like him to cut himself. Not fighting, not cooking. As the son of the god of war, he liked to think he had some supperior knife control or something. Yet... despite this, there he was, small red beads forming on the thin line on his index finger.
How could he lose control worrying about some girl?

"Forget what I was making," he said offhandedly, "It's better if we just make something easier."
Deimos shuffled the ingredients around a bit, trying to sort out what to do now.

Finally, he settled the items and looked at Melinda. "How'd you feel about fried rice?"
It was easy to make, just cut up some random things, and fry 'em with some rice. Plus, who knew what her boundaries with foreign foods were. It might be best to just do something familiar.

(Ridiculously short post is ridiculously short)

(I don't actually know how to cook that well so let's just skip)

"You're not bad at this," Deimos said after swallowing a spoonful of fried rice, "I was kind of expecting you to be... more prissy. Not that you've been prissy or anything, but you know how Aphrodite kids usually are."
He paused a moment to shovel some more food into his mouth and chew it.

"Well, you'd obviously know, being one..." He could feel himself struggling with conversation. He wasn't used to talking to people one on one usually, and normally when he did it was more... them talking to him. Not the other way around. But this was technically a date, so it was his job to take initiative, being the guy.
"Anyway, how's what's your family like?"

((YEAH GO AHEAD.))