I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ]

Subject: I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Sun Sep 04, 2011 9:31 pm

I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Rempy2

Nametag by Angel. ©

Around this turn
where the cross
will cast your shadow
the people will all gather

_________________________________________________________________

Olliver happily walked through camp, tossing a beat-up and ragged looking ink-pen into the air. It did multiple flips, slicing through the air before landing back into the teen's hand. "Boredom strikes at the untimely hour," he says quietly, watching as fellow demigods shuffled around, many of them in groups, chattering absently. Unlike them, Olliver liked everyone. Cliques just weren't his thing; yeah, he could talk with a group of people, but he associated with everyone. He could hit it off with the Aphrodite campers, or he could speak strategy with the Athena children - the possibilities were endless. At this time, however, he didn't feel like flirting, nor did he want to use his brain too extensively. Letting his gaze float searchingly over the landscape, he closed in on the amphitheater, deciding that he would either be alone, or nobody there would care to communicate. Shrugging, he continued on, flipping the pen in time to his steps.

Feeling his sneakers strike the solid stone of the amphitheater, he began walking down the stairs. He emerged into a row of seats about halfway down. "I wonder," he murmured, "how good my aim is." Closing one eye, and narrowing the other, he focused his attention to the center of the lower stage. He reared his arm back as if to throw the pen. Stopping himself mid-fling, however, he glanced around, laughing a bit. "Pfft, yeah. I couldn't hit the side of a barn." Removing a small green book from his pocket, he read the front nostalgically.

THE HANDHELD GUIDE TO EVERYTHING PERCUSSION

He frowned, and flipped it halfway open. Unfortunately, reading about drumming was the closest he could get at camp. Unless, of course, he could get a kit. But really, where would he put it, and how would he pay for it? He knew that mortals didn't take to kindly to drachmas, because it was just simple useless gold to them. Sighing, he closed the book with a loud thump, and tossed it into a nearby seat. Tapping his fingers against the back of the seat in front of him, he let his head fall, and grumbled. "This place has a lot of downsides..." Straightening himself, Olliver suddenly ached for some social interaction. It was times like this, when he grew slightly homesick ( despite the negative things at home, of course ), that he needed friends more then ever. It was the social high that he got when accompanied by those close to him. An addiction, of sorts. Yes, an addiction...

_________________________________________________________________

to remember such a day
where the flames grew
as high as trees
and the world stopped

Subject: Re: I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Sun Sep 04, 2011 10:37 pm

I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Andy

I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Angel1

It's in my face
How much I've changed
The colors clash
Of who I used to be

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Andy strolled around camp with his bass guitar slung over his shoulder. He pulled the guitar to the front of him, strumming lightly at the strings. It wasn't a very loud sound, since the bass wasn't plugged in, but it was loud enough for him to hear. That is, it was loud enough until a flock of giggling Aphrodite girls walked by.
Andy rolled his eyes, glancing around to find somewhere quiet so he could play. It was then that he saw the Amphitheater. Andy grinned proudly. 'There's never anyone in there,' he thought. The son of Athena started towards the large building.
He made his way down the steps, stopping as he noticed someone down further in front. He seemed to be mumbling quietly to himself. Andy stood back a moment, keeping his fingers poised on the metallic strings of the blue guitar.
"Yeah..it has some down sides... Like the amps that they have back stage are crap.." Andy called, hearing the boy's last remark.
Andy made his way down the stone stairs, once again plucking lightly on the strings. He was now playing the riff to the Pink Floyd song Money. Andy was like a walking, talking classic rock dictionary. It was his favorite genre of music to play and listen to.
Once Andy started playing, he had to finish the song. It was one of his strange quirks. However, Andy knew the song well enough to talk and play at the same time. As he looked up, opening his mouth to speak, he noticed the book sitting in the seat next to the camper.

"THE HANDHELD GUIDE TO EVERYTHING PERCUSSION"

Andy arched an eyebrow, glancing at his guitar a moment and then back at the guy. "You play drums?" he asked, reaching the chorus of the song.
Andy continued to play as he waited for the boy's reply. As he stood, he silently contemplated if perhaps the guy would make a decent band mate. Andy had always wanted to be in a band...it seemed like something great to do on his down time, instead of simply reading.
'Let's not jump to conclusions...he might not even be able to keep a beat..' Andy thought. As Andy strummed the Pink Floyd song, the lyrics ran through his head like he was listening to them on his iPod.

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Things are getting weird
My thoughts are changing
So get me out of this place
Get me out of this place

Subject: Re: I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Mon Oct 03, 2011 1:49 pm

Nametag by Angel. ©

Around this turn
where the cross
will cast your shadow
the people will all gather

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ☽ ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Olliver finished speaking to himself, furrowing his brow. While he did enjoy the silence, and alone time, some human interaction would be nice. And no, not flirting with the Aphrodite girls; that was fun, but it wouldn't fulfill his calling. He needed to indulge in someone about music, preferably. Sighing, he leaned back. Another voice shattered the silence, causing Olliver to jump in surprise. Calming himself, he turned his head, and peered at the other male in curiosity. When he began playing a familiar song, Olliver raised his eyebrows, surprised. Someone who was friendly and liked good music? Oh boy, this was the start of a beautiful friendship. Grinning, he waited until the boy was near him, but still playing, and clapped slowly. "Bravo, very nice." Seeing him observe the book, he glanced at it shortly.

"Pearl Reference Pure, all natural maple, RFS1465 limited Cast Pearl Snare." He waited a moment, before reciting the rest from memory. "10 inch K custom dark splash Zildjian cymbal, Heavy 5A Birch sticks." He smiled. "I guess you could say that I dabble a bit in the drumming past-time."

Laughing lightly, he leaned back again, relaxing. "And I see that you play a mighty fine bass." Olliver studied the boy curiously, inspecting his features. His dark hair, his dark eyes, his heart-shaped face; it made Olliver slightly envious. The boy must have been a lady-killer, at the least. "I'm Olliver," he said, introducing himself. "Feel free to call me Oli, though. Most do." Yawning slightly, he brushed some sandy hair from his eyes, squinting a bit. "You have a good taste in music, too. It differs from the stereotypical rap and hip-hop that everybody else listens to." Shifting, he pursed his lips, watching as a ladybug crawled absently across the book. Bending forward, he pulled it from the manual, and sat it on the ground, patiently. He didn't really have a problem with bugs, it was spiders that bothered him, mostly. Still, he could handle that.

He gazed at the azure sky, which was dotted with misty clouds. His mind drifted off, as it often did when silence had kicked in, and his ADHD began leaking out. Absently, he pondered about his godly parent, thinking it was odd that Nyx had been his mother. He held no major traits from her; he couldn't do all those fancy traits that others could do. Yeah, he felt more energetic at night, and darkness felt more natural, but still, it was odd. Many of his siblings (none in particular, though, he loved them all), were seemingly antisocial, and tended to stay nocturnal. He just thought it was weird; not impossible, but weird.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ☾ ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

to remember such a day
where the flames grew
as high as trees
and the world stopped

Subject: Re: I ain't even mad. [ private ; STEPHY ] Mon Oct 17, 2011 6:29 pm

It's in my face
How much I've changed
The colors clash
Of who I used to be

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Andy grinned, nodding his head. "I have no idea what in the world you just said, but it sounded drummy. I've never been good with the drums...I can't have four limbs doing different things at the same exact time. It makes me feel like an octopus and then everything just goes to hell," Andy joked, chuckling slightly at his own sense of humor. The fact that he had found someone else who was into music and wasn't a jerk seemed like a wonderful concept to him. Andy spun his guitar so it hung from his back before he took a seat in a nearby amphitheater chair. "I'm Andy," he said, sticking out his large, bass guitar player, hand for Oli to shake if he wished.
"So tell me, what's your favorite song to play to? Or even favorite band to play to?" he asked, arching a dark brown eyebrow. Already Andy was going through names of the band the two might have if they became friends. He was also trying to figure out which of his female friends at camp could sing. A few came to mind, but no one stood out. 'Guess I'll figure that out later. If this guy turns out to be a jerk then there's no point in getting ahead of myself..' his thoughts drifted away again. 'Still...having a band would be cool,' he silently mused.
Slowly, Andy began to think about himself being able to play for screaming girls that all wanted his children. That was just a perk, of course. Girls do that now anyway. It's more about the music.
Andy shook his head and turned his attention back to Oliver.

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Things are getting weird
My thoughts are changing
So get me out of this place
Get me out of this place

» Our funeral songs... [ private; STEPHY ]
» This place is so neglected, it's sad... [ private - Stephy ]
» Broken dreams and broken branches... [ private; STEPHY ]
» The downfalls of social anxiety... [ Stephy and Flufferdoodles ]
» there's nothing here [private]