Where's a cigar when you need one? (SNIGGLE!)

Sutton searched around the room for a pack of cigars. She had looked through her overloaded closet. She sighed, rolling her eyes. Where was a cigar when she needed one? She needed to find one of those pesky Hermes kids to get some for her. Or she could visit her mother and raid through the house. It wasn’t as if her mother cared whether she smoked or not.

Accidentally dropping a lamp on the hardwood floor, she swore a string of cuss words in Ancient Greek. She was pissed, and anybody would want to stay clear of her right now. Unless they had a cigar… she had thought to herself. Sighing, she flopped onto the neatly done bed, ruining the work she had actually care to do this morning.

After a while of sitting there and just sulking, she had gotten up, slipped her feet into a pair of LV wedges and walked out. She enjoyed the sun providing her a year-long tan that everyone envied, especially when she was on the cover of some tabloid for getting too drunk at a party. Who gave a crap?

~Told you it was crappy xD~

Avery pushed the door to the cabin open with his knee, before taking a step inside the Hera cabin. He would have using his hands, normally, but they were preoccupied. One was clicked down on his lighter, while the other was gently cupped around the flame, so that the draft of the door swinging open wouldn't put the fickle thing out. Clenched gently between his teeth was a brown Churchill, one of Cuba's finest, which was the focus of his actions.


Lucky for Avery, easily considered a chain-smoker, he had a few friends in Havana who were more than capable of sneaking these prized cigars into the states. And while normally they'd charge an incredibly outrageous price to any American simpletons willing to take the risk of bringing these illegal treasures into the country, they were rather fond of Avery. Avery was a special American simpleton, and the rules didn't quite apply to him. He'd done a few kids some favors a few years back before he'd moved his headquarters to Camp Half-Blood, and this was their way of thanking him. Everybody won.

His shoes crunched as snow stuck to the bottom of them were forced into the wooden floorboards of the cabin as he stepped in, using his back to close the door once his entire body was sheltered by the cabin. Avery glanced up to see the room in shambles, with miscellaneous objects strewn about the beds and ground. These, as well as the girl recklessly throwing her possessions about, were things that Avery chose to ignore as he crossed to room to his bunk.

Sutton continued to trash her room. Pucci, Prada, Gucci, Coach, Chanel, and a ton of other expensive articles of clothing and accessories flew everywhere. She was on a rampage, stopping to think about what a mess she had made. Rummaging through her whole closet, she took the spare pillow and buried her face into it. Okay, she admitted it, she may or may not be addicted, but it was better than weed or something.

Continuing her search for a cigarette, she noticed the most faint smell of a cigar. Following the scent, not really caring who it was, she just wanted one. She would pay pretty much anything for a cigar right now. Rummaging through the 20th drawer, she was getting seriously annoyed. How hard was it to find a friking cigarette?

His bed squeaked in age as he let himself fall back into it, arms stretched across the silk sheets comfortably. His chest rose and fell at a steady pace, a trail of smoke emitting from his nose at every exhale and disappearing into the air. He felt quite peaceful.

Until stray ash fell on his cheek.

With a loud swear Avery jolted upright, smacking his cheek to brush the burning embers off onto the floor, where he stamped it under his foot hastily. It was only his first week of being Cabin leader...burning down the cabin was not ideal.

In retrospect, lighting the cigar and heading into the cabin had not been his smartest move. But when you itched for a something bad enough, little would stop you from trying to get it. And Avery had had exactly what he wanted in a small box that he'd carried with him out into the woods, as well as a notebook. Not for bird watching, he assured everyone with a scowl and blush, although secretly he did enjoy that too, but for writing and drawing. And smoking, of course. He didn't kill people, he didn't rob banks...Avery's hobbies certainly could have been worse. And Avery reasoned that the occasional smoke wouldn't kill him. Not quickly, at least. Of course, Avery's idea of the occasional smoke was about a pack a day, but that was an irrelevant.

She muttered a string of profanity and decided to see where the smell was coming from. She discovered that the smell was coming from the cabin leader's room, which was ironic, especially because he wasn't suposed to be the one breaking the rules around here. She felt like she was on a rampage, but there wasn't much that would stop someone from getting a cigar after they'd been smoking for the past two years of her life.

Holding back, deciding whether to knock of not, she decided that she should just go and knock on the damned door. Trying doesn't hurt right? Especially when the person couldn't judge her for asking. Unless she had been wrong and he just accidentally lit the cabin on fire. Though that wouldn't be the best thing for a cabin leader to do after one week.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Avery condensed his groan of protest into a small sigh of warm air that puffed out of his nose in a mixture of smoke. He kicked off his shoes, one rolling across the floor and the other hitting the wall with a thud, before half trudging, half sliding in his socks over to the door. It opened with a twist of the knob and he peered out at the girl previously in a frenzy for some reason unbeknownst to him. "You've summoned me?" His voice was mid-to-low toned, as per usual, ending in a slightly upturned curl. A thin, steady stream of gray monoxide emission was flowing out of the end of his Churchill, the tip burning vibrant orange as he inhaled.

Sutton bit her bottom lip and answered. “Look, I’m outta cigarettes, and I need one really badly, so would you mind if I could have one? I mean, I’ll pay if you want.” She said quickly, feeling really awkward. This wasn’t like her! Normally, Sutton would never even both asking about something for something like this! She needed a break from camp soon, or she’ll completely change for good, which isn’t a good thing. To her at least.

Avery raised an eyebrow skeptically. It took him a moment to figure out what she was trying to say, and when he finally did, he went cross-eyed to look at the cigar smoking between his lips. He returned his sight to her questioningly. "This...This is a cigar." Was she stupid? Anyone who couldn't tell the difference between a cigarette and a cigar probably wasn't old enough to smoke either. "A very expensive cigar that I'm not sure that you're old enough to smoke or afford." He shifted on his legs and looked down at her, his eyes cold and unfeeling. He didn't like to associate himself with idiots.

Sutton rolled her eyes in annoyance. "I'm 19, and I'm about to offer you.." she looked in her wallet. "900 dollars for a small box of those." she said, expecting someone like him to raise the prices. She had 1600 in her wallet currently, not including her credit cards or the worth of her wallet.

Yes, her mother trusted her with such large sums of money. Most people would think she was lying, then they would see her face at movie premieres and fashion shows. They would know who her mother was, who her step-father was, and how she was showered with the best. She didn't need a pompus kid to tell her off; nor was she going to let him rude behaviour bother her.

Avery raised his eyebrows, the corner of his lip turning up into a bemused smirk. The light above his doorway shown down on the bills, revealing their authenticity. So she really did have $900 on her. He wondered how much more this idiot girl might have on her, and sighed. "You really want my cubans, don't you." A short pause as he punched numbers in his head, decided on a hefty price that would afford him quite a few notebooks and art supplies--and not the cheap kind, either. "$1100 for the box. Only one is missing, and it's the one in my mouth," He grinned the best that he could with the cigar clenched between teeth, "But I'd be glad to give you this one too, doll. Slightly used." When Avery called you doll it wasn't usually a good thing, nor was it legitimate flirting. It was something of a tease, actually. He was mocking her. But if she wanted them badly enough, then...

"$1100 and they're yours."

She handed him 1100. He thought that she was silly of coursew, and they obviously wouldn't have cost him that much, but she couldn't get out of this stupid camp, therefore this was her only option. 500$ for two weeks, she could barely manage that. Heck, a pair of Michael Kors cost 600 for god's sake! She sighed mentally, trying not to make a snarky comment at the boy.

Avery's eyes sparkled, and he felt like he could've been the son of thievery for how much he'd just made off this girl this girl. With a half-arsed attempt he folded the money--which would have worked better if he had one or six rubber bands to keep it together-- and stuffed the thick wad of green into her pocket, the grin never washing off his face. Suddenly, with as ridiculous as this girl was, he was interested in her. Clearly, she didn't know anything about cigars; the particular kind he was smoking were about $80 bucks ago, around $3.50 a piece, and could easily be bought online.


ooc/ don't post yet I need to edit this after school.