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 Posted: Wed Sep 11, 2013 5:54 pm
Tested bonds, ancient secrets unraveled
A deal with a Prince costs distance traveled
An unlikely trio, once tricked and twice beaten
Charge into an ancient people's revenge left to sweeten
Love's mirror is missing, hostages taken
Son of Love must return home with the forsaken
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Posted: Wed Sep 11, 2013 6:01 pm
   “Five more– AGGHHHH!”
Doing archery practice the night before the quest probably hadn’t been a good idea on Cedric’s part.
The son of Venus groaned as his chest slammed against the ground, immediately rolling over to lie on his back in the grass as he blinked rapidly, struggling to adjust his eyes to the weak rays of sunlight of the early morning. The camp grounds were quiet for the time being, and even if it had been noisy, he was pretty sure no one had heard that embarrassing little outburst of his. The night before, he’d trekked out pretty far into the archery fields – by the camp borders, just about – to get a little target practice in to hopefully calm his nerves for the quest. It hadn’t worked very much, but he’d somehow managed to fall asleep in the tree branch he’d decided to camp out in. It had actually been pretty comfortable, in the tree’s defense. The demigod quickly brought down his breathing, ignoring the throbbing in his chest as he forced himself to sit up, glancing around for a moment when his eyes fell on the backpack and bow lying in the grass a few feet away. “s**t!” Cedric immediately cursed out loud, not bothering to keep his voice down as he shot to his feet and sprinted in the direction of the barracks, grabbing his belongings as he passed. It had taken a hell of a lot of convincing to allow the Senate to let him lead this quest, and he definitely wouldn’t be proving himself worthy of the position by being late to his own quest.
Cedric hadn’t asked to lead the quest; he’d more or less walked inside Jupiter’s temple to say hello to the Augur and then had the weight of leading a quest slammed on his shoulders. Apparently, the prophecy had stood for millennia but he was the one that would see its succession, or at had any chance of it at least. The praetors hadn’t exactly been pleased to find this news out, on the verge of rejecting the quest altogether but it had somehow made its way to the Senate to decide on. Really, at that point, the blonde hadn’t cared about what the ruling would be. If he was allowed to go – awesome; he could restock on alcohol, because he definitely hadn’t brought enough vodka with him. If not, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with some bullshit prophecy that could possibly kill him or the other campers he’d have to go with. He’d been curious though – he’d heard of Venus’ mirror before, but he would have thought his mother would keep an eye on something like that. Nonetheless, he’d caved and casually asked his employer, Amadeus Hawthorne II, about it. He’d almost spit out his wine when the email had responded that he’d recovered it a few years ago.
So naturally, he definitely had to go now in case the rest of the legion found out and decided to spear the manor to death until he coughed it up. (Which Cedric knew would never happen; Amadeus could be dead and that mirror still wouldn’t be the legion’s unless he wanted it to be.)
The demigod skidded into his barrack, leaving the door open as he hastily grabbed a few last minute things from around his bed to stuff inside his backpack. He honestly did try being quiet about it, but when that didn’t work, a pretty smile and a little charmspeak put his annoyed campers right back to sleep. He returned his bow and quiver of arrows back into the earring that constantly graced his left ear, checking to make sure all of his weapons were in working condition. The contents of his backpack were mostly of weapons and other tech like that, courtesy of the Hawthorne armory that he may or may not have stolen from without informing his boss. A small laptop was nestled between some clothes, with his other supplies scattered around in the pockets. Finished taking inventory in record time, Cedric paused for a moment with his backpack slung over his shoulder. s**t. I’m forgetting something, aren’t I? The Italian promptly started turning over his mattress, looking through the sheets and underneath the pillows before he finally came across the jacket he’d worn yesterday, holding up three letters from the pocket victoriously. He definitely couldn’t forget those. They were letters addressed to his boss and his siblings in case he died on the quest, where he’d explained a lot of things that he’d usually kept a secret. At the thought, he felt a nostalgic pang – man, he missed home. His siblings most of all; before, he couldn’t have even imagined being apart for even a day, but now, he had to be away from them for two years while he completed the service he still owed the legion. With a soft sigh, he slid the letters into the pocket of his current jacket, folding the other one away before he hurried out of the barrack, closing the door softly behind him.
Cedric jogged his way over to the entrance of the Caldecott Tunnel where he’d told the others to meet him in the morning. He was nervous, though it was more about having to ask Amadeus to give up one his precious shiny belongings – which he would swear the mirror was after he’d found it. Well, that and having to get into the manor without either of his siblings knowing he’d been there. He’d asked Amadeus to clear his schedule for half an hour after their plane was supposed to touch down, but he hadn’t gotten any response back. Best case scenario, Amadeus wanted to make him sweat while he figured out how to turn the cards in his favor. Worst case scenario, someone was either dead or terminally ill. The demigod sighed as he came to a stop beside the stone entrance, immediately turning to pace long strides in front of it. It wasn’t out of his anxiety – he simply hadn’t taken the meds for his ADHD that morning. While it clearly wasn’t a very good thing, it would also be pretty helpful – he was more actively alert when he was without it, even if it was only because he had to keep his brain busy and his body active so that he wouldn’t explode. The only reason he bothered to take the medicine in the first place was because it annoyed the hell out of his boss; his siblings weren’t bothered so much by it since they had it to an extent too, but not nearly as much as him. He glanced at his watch after a moment, nodding as he looked at the time. At least he wasn’t late, and since his quest mates were in the same barrack, it probably wouldn’t be long before they could head off. Their plane would take off pretty soon and he would rather not book another flight that took them to Ireland in the middle of the night.
( ooc ) Short. I know, I suck orz And some day I'll prettify the first post, but it is not today >_> outfit!
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Posted: Wed Sep 11, 2013 10:17 pm
  xxxxxxxxxxxxxx↻ xxx Am I less of a lady if I don’t wear ✕✕ panty hose?
xxxxMy momma said ❛ ( A LADY ISN'T WHAT SHE WEARS BUT ⊹◟ WHAT SHE KNOWS
xxxxxxxxxxBut I’ve² ____》drawn the conclusion ▬▬▬ it’s all an illusion ❛
xxxx*«━━ confusion’s the name ♚. ⁴⇣of the game
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxA MISCONCEPTION xxx ━━━━━ xxx A VAST DECEPTION
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxA MISCONCEPTION xxx ━━━━━ xxx A VAST DECEPTION
xxxxxx███████ xxxSOMETHING ★ ★ GOT TO CHANGE」
Monica rose with the sun, as she did every day. It could hardly be called “waking”, as her entire night was hardly spent what you could call “sleeping”. Her belongings that she deemed necessary had been packed into her backpack days ago, and all that was left to go was the count-down until the day she had to go and risk her life for the sake of people who would probably prefer her never come back at all. If she had her way, she would be making them all regret that wish. After all, she’d suffered for six years at that camp just in hopes of getting to go home… maybe with this quest she could convince them to let her return to her father, then return to Ireland, sooner. That had been part of her motive in accepting – the rest of the incentive had lied in the sweet words that had lured her into quickly agreeing with Cedric del Favero the second-cohort, frustratingly attractive, and oddly suspicious son of Venus who had been deemed leader of the quest. When you were hated and insulted for six years because of your weaknesses, to be told that you have “(got) a lot of talent and potential” is a little bit more than just a little incentive to do whatever the person praising you wants.
She’d even taken extra time to train with both a sword and the daggers she’d inherited from her father – a celestial bronze pair that he had been given by his mother and, with the Greek goddess’ permission, had passed on to his own daughter. Monica cherished those daggers as if her own mother had given them to her – not that Minerva would ever give anything to a child who had only caused others to shame her… Monica had never once received anything from her mother, nothing aside from good brains and a bad reputation as a “b*****d child” of a maiden goddess. Still, while Monica was feeling very conscious awareness about the fact that one way or another she wouldn’t allow herself to die, she was doubting Mr. del Favero and his opinion of how “talented” she really was. Yes, she was brilliant but that was all she was… well, that and extremely well mannered. Despite being a legacy of Demeter she couldn’t control plants – she couldn’t even directly communicate with them. Instead, she could only gauge a general sense of what they were feeling. Of course, that had served as warning enough more than a few times – grass tended to like it much more when people walked on it, rather than stormed across it with angry intent.
Monica didn’t bother waking anybody to say goodbye. Frankly, she doubted that anybody would care – she liked her cohort members well enough, sure, she just wasn’t particularly close to anybody. After all, fifth cohort had a bad enough reputation as is, without adding her greek heritage or lineage to Minerva to the mix. Honestly, if there was a sixth or seventh cohort she probably would have wound up there; she’d been told enough times that anybody else in her cohort was preferable over her, anyways. With a silent sigh Monica slung her bag over her shoulder, slugging the much-too-large navy cardigan onto her shoulders beforehand, before silently stealing away into the dimness of dawn. She braided her long hair as she walked, the fishtail braid coming down well beyond her bust as the long, curly locks were quickly tamed by her experienced hand. She was a pretty enough girl… she just often hid it as best she could. Not for any reason other than the fact that she hardly saw herself as pretty at all – in her eyes, she was “average” at best and so there was no point in challenging that. By the time she drew closer to the meeting point her hair was properly braided, her bag was now hung over both shoulders, and her hands were hidden in the massive sleeves of her sweater; a sweater that went down just past her knees, actually hiding the entirety of the outfit she wore underneath by several inches of fabric. She had seen the son of Venus approaching and arrived literally moments after he came to a stop. Her head dropped habitually, her face flushed slightly – something she blamed entirely on what she had dubbed “Venus’ curse” since first interacting with the rather attractive young man. Nevermind the fact that he was at least half a decade older than her and way out of what the other girls referred to as her “league”, she could hardly speak to him out of both fear that he’d be like his subordinates (who had once gone so far as to lock her in a storage shed by the stables with her half-brother, after violently kidnapping her from a very good book, for no reason at all) and simple social anxiety! It wasn’t logical, the way she responded to his presence, but she could already tell that this wasn’t nearly as bad as their first meeting… which meant it would hopefully wear off in time.
”Good morning.” she murmured softly, tucking her knees up in front of her as she slid down to the ground with her back pressed against the cement wall of the opening so that she could comfortably bury her nose in the obnoxiously large book that she’d brought with her – a full collection by Nathaniel Hawthorne that she’d recently aquired through her father.
“Oh, hey! Sorry, didn’t see you there at first,” Cedric greeted pleasantly as he paused in his pacing to look over at the daughter of Minerva with a curious smile. “I got the last bit of supplies the legion’s willing to give us. Some denarii, mortal cash, plane tickets to our first stop... I don’t suppose either of you have problems with planes?” Monica glanced up from the page – already on the third from just moments ago. With a photographic memory, all you really needed to do was glance at the page to grasp it all… at least, that was the case for Monica – hence the need for such an obnoxiously large text. She stared at him for a moment, her expression curiously blank as she quickly recollected the flights she’d been on.
”So long as Jupiter doesn’t decide he suddenly feels like smiting Minerva’s illegitimate child, I have no problem.” she decided after a moment, her gorgeous blue-green eyes dropping back down to her page. ”It hasn’t happened in the past, though, so I’m confident enough to assume it won’t happen now. After all, Venus would be quite upset if her questing demigods were shot out of the sky for such a reason while she’s still using them. I doubt that would go over well for Jupiter, in that case… Regardless, I don’t know our other member so I’m not quite comfortable speaking on his or her behalf in regards to this.” her voice dropped into disinterested silence as her eyes flashed over the page before she flipped to the next.
“Ah, right. Well, his name’s Dmitriy, legacy of Nox, just so that you know. I guess I’ll explain everything once he’s come around? Though if the name means anything to you, we’re going to Ireland to visit Amadeus Hawthorne II.” That stopped Monica fairly quickly. Her eyes, which had been practically twitching she skimmed the pages so quickly, froze on one word as she went through every association she had with that name. A curious smile fluttered onto her lips as she quickly pushed herself up to her feet. Her hands disappeared into her sleeves very, very quickly though where her hands rested – about four inches away from the hem of the wrist area – were clear by the way she clasped the book to her chest.
”Hawthorne Hawthorne?” she asked, her eyes alight with unreleased excitement, ”As in Hawthorne?” She added, holding up the book as if to further explain what she meant. ”Or Hawthorne Industries, Hawthorne?” Either way, she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was a little bit eager. To meet any descendant of such a famous author would be an experience she could happily recollect to her father later, but the heir to Hawthorne Industries was widely renowned as the most intelligent person in the world. If that was the case, that made her the second most intelligent with an IQ literally one point lower than his. And, since taking that test, she’d been studying herself silly in an attempt to raise her score to beat his. Call it competitive, but it was just like getting 99/100 on a test… so close to perfect that you’d almost rather have done worse to feel better about it. Being so close, she was determined to at least match his score. Unfortunately, every time she brought her own score up, it seemed like the other male did too. Still, it was almost fun for Monica; she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if she ever actually beat his score. She doubted she’d be pleased about it, though – that would be the ending of a very fun game.
“Hawthorne Industries, Hawthorne,” Cedric confirmed, unslinging his backpack to pull out the small laptop that was a brand only the people who lived with the genius and his father were lucky enough to be able to use. “Although, he could be related...? I mean, I don’t know. That’s not the type of thing I keep track of.” He opened up the laptop, quickly logging in and handing it over to the demigoddess to look at. It was a brief public profile so that she could just get a gist of his boss before they went to meet him, but judging by her accent, she probably lived in the same country that the family practically ruled. Monica bit down on her lip lightly, practically itching to pull out the tool kit she’d packed away in her bag to take apart the admittedly beautiful piece of technology. She highly doubted that would keep her on her quest leader’s good side, so she resisted. Instead Monica took the computer into her grasp and, balancing it on one arm as she quickly absorbed the information on the screen. Humming softly to herself she shook her head a little, seeming slightly disappointed before she handed the computer back over to Cedric. It was pretty much the same as any of the ones she read back when she was in Ireland – when she’d sort of binged on trying to find who could have possibly outsmarted her when she spent a great deal of time challenging professors from schools as famous as Oxford on what she perceived to be gaping holes in their thesis papers. Of course, she’d hardly had the time to pay attention since then so it was good to see some of the updated information, but she was confident in her understanding of at least the public knowledge surrounding him.
”My question is why in the world we’re making a pit-stop to my home country to visit a wealthy mortal on a quest?” Even if she refused to believe he was mortal after learning the cause of her own intelligence, it seemed like a fair enough question to ask. After all, Cedric was clearly keeping something silent that hadn’t been made known to either the rest of camp or even her as a member of the quest. Really, it was a question posed purely out of curiosity than anything else. While it could definitely be dangerous to interact with somebody that influential, especially considering the infamous temper she’d read the gist of just a moment ago – one so dramatic that it occasionally made people disappear altogether, she hardly doubted the boy to be a monster or anything of that sort of danger. So long as they all retained a degree of common sense they really had little to be concerned of, in her reserved opinion. Still… it was a little odd that they wouldn’t immediately pursue the mirror, and it was hardly reasonable to assume that a mortal had somehow stolen it from the goddess and was somehow keeping so the goddess couldn’t get it back without outside assistance… however, if her theory was correct... Her eyes remained trained on Cedric, the polite smile on her lips mixed with a dark sense that only really came about when she was plotting or one of her theories was coming neatly together. ”Excuse me for asking if it’s rude, I would just like to be clear, is all.”
xxxnow ▬▬▬◟ don’t be offended this is ( ♟ ) all my opinion
xxxxxxxxxxxAin’t nothing xxxx↻ x that I’m saying ˟⇣law
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThis is a true confession of a life learned lesson xxx ━━━━━━━━
xxxxxxxxxx▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮ I WAS SENT HERE ◥❛ .TO SHARE WITH YOU ALL `✦
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Posted: Fri Oct 04, 2013 2:12 pm
  It was early. Or late. Sometimes Dmitriy wasn’t sure how to exactly count the passing of days. As a first-generation Legacy of Nox, although he didn’t have all the traits and powers the actual children of Nox, he still shared some of them. The nocturnal bit of it tended to be a bit of an annoyance. For the most part, he was able to force himself into a diurnal schedule; it was slightly easier for him after all. It was still annoying though. It made him miss living with his friends in Europe. They tended to attempt most of their movements at night, as it was easier; you only had to worry about monsters – a lot of whom moved mostly at night, which was a drawback, but it did allow one to avoid them by paying attention to their movements – and not so much about mortals, especially mortal law-enforcement, getting in your way. After all, what law enforcement personnel would look at a mismatched group of youths ranging from 8 years old to 30-something without questioning legalities? The only usefulness of being Nocturnal at camp Jupiter was that he could be called upon to run messages in the middle of the night and it wouldn’t really be a problem.
As the sun rose over the valley where the camp was located, Dmitriy rose slowly to his feet from where he was sitting on the bank of the Little Tiber. He could have headed straight to the entrance of Caldecott tunnel – anything that was absolutely necessary he either had on him, or in the rucksack that sat at his feet. He wanted to grab a couple more things that he knew might come in handy, as well as make sure that the other member of the quest who was in the same cohort of his was awake and ready to go. He didn’t know much about the daughter of Minerva that would be on the quest with him, except that she was a rather lonesome person, and it seemed like she always had her nose in a book – when she wasn’t being tormented by the other cohorts, or even members of her own. While Dmitriy had never taken part in tormenting her – after all, he knew people who would be more hated than her should they ever show up at this camp – but he wasn’t the kind of person to actively stick up for her either. He only knew the girl by name, and instinct had him blending in as much as possible, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than necessary. Being a messenger kept him busy anyways, so it wasn’t as though he had the time to stick up for her without it coming down doubly on his own head. He hadn’t exactly come to camp to make friends; he had enough to worry about already.
Grabbing his bag off the group, he began the walk back to the barracks, cutting across the fields instead of following the river to the main entrance of camp. Shortest distance between two points was a straight line after all. Upon arrival at the barracks, he slipped inside, noticing quickly that Monica had already left. Satisfied that he wouldn’t have to shake anyone awake and wait for them to prepare, he grabbed a couple of last-minute items and slipped them into the front pocket of his bag before leaving the 5th cohort for who knew how long.
As he made his way through the – currently empty – pathways of camp, he pondered about the quest. He himself hadn’t been personally asked to go by the centurion leading the quest, he had instead asked to join, knowing that they needed one more member and glad for the chance to get away from camp for a bit. Being a messenger did have its perks. He wasn’t worried about any monster attacks they might suffer either. He already had plenty of experience with alternative ways to deal with monsters, and if anyone at camp couldn’t handle a fight with at least some measure of skill, then he would wonder how they managed to make it to camp in the first place.
Exiting the camp, he made his way to the northern bride and quickly made his way across the river and south along its bank to where he expected the others to be meeting. Breaking himself out of his thoughts as he arrived at the entrance to Caldecott tunnel, he nodded his greeting to the other two quest members who were already there. ”здравствуйте” he vocalized, ”Sorry if I’m late.”
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 1:41 pm
Cedric had to resist the urge to sigh as Monica voiced her concerns. From her tone, she probably hadn’t meant for the question to come out as obnoxiously as it did, but it had, leaving him fairly annoyed with the young woman. It may have also been because it sounded like a bit of an insult towards the Hawthorne heir, whom he worked for – though no one on the quest with him would know that – and adored like a younger brother. He was loyal to Amadeus as an employee and a friend, and he already felt guilty enough as it was, so he couldn’t say he was quite happy with this know-it-all. Taking the small laptop back, he took note of the look in Monica’s eyes when she’d first glance at the priceless technology – a little hungry in a way, like she couldn’t wait to tear it apart and put it back together again. So he definitely wasn’t going to be leaving his backpack alone in her presence; Amadeus would skin him alive if he let her have a go at the exclusive technology, meant solely for Hawthorne Manor residents.
My question is why in the world you’re so obnoxious… Cedric thought silently to himself as he navigated to a new page on the screen. To be fair, he’d already dealt with one genius for a pretty damned long time; he wasn’t going to get used to another one anytime soon. “Well, the prophecy doesn’t exactly tell us where the mirror is, so I figured a criminal mastermind is as good as any place to start. I mean, after so long, there’s a good chance it’s floating around somewhere in the mortal world undetected if Mom hasn’t heard of it for gods only know how long. This kid’s done a lot for somebody so young, so I doubt that he hasn’t got at least something useful to share with us. He gave the okay and I mentioned it a bit sometime before. We’re not exactly working on a deadline, so it can’t hurt us anymore than it can help us, yeah?” He shrugged, handing the laptop back over to Monica again, the information on the screen having changed to Interpol’s extensive file on the nineteen-year-old. On the Hawthorne family alone, the agency had enough dirt that could fill a moderately large library and the current heir apparent took up a good chunk of that space. They had him down for over three hundred robberies in the past ten years alone and Amadeus had once told him he’d only ever been wrongfully accused of two crimes, both of which revolved around homicide. He enjoyed playing games with the authorities when it came to robbing the world of their most precious valuables; otherwise, he covered his tracks much better than the authorities thought he could.
As he let Monica read, Cedric hummed a bit under his breath, he stretched his arms a little behind his head, his eyes scanning over the camp idly. He lips grew into a smile as he saw the other quest member start to jog over, sighing quietly with relief. He kind of just wanted to get this started; he didn’t really enjoy the dread that had settled over his stomach and he didn’t like having no real clue what they were doing past one point. He was so used to Amadeus and his painstakingly thought out plans that going by his wits and maybe a little luck seemed like a foreign concept. He kind of just missed being home too; this was pretty much the point where Amelia supported the plan one hundred percent, Anthony became wary of their chances of surviving unscathed, and Cedric went to find a drink to prepare him for the mission to come. Resisting the urge to sigh, he greeted their comrade with a smile and a slight nod. “Hey! You’re not late at all. We were just kind of hanging around. So I hope I was safe in presuming you’ve got no problems with planes?” At Dmitry’s response, he nodded and held his hands out for the laptop from Monica. Stuffing it back into his backpack, he began to lead the way out of camp through the tunnel. “Great. Well, let’s get going. We’re going to Ireland, by the way,” he called over his shoulder to Dmitry. “I’ll explain what I told Monica to you in the cab.” He turned back around to face forward, automatically slipping his phone out of his pocket when he felt the slight vibration of a text message.
TO: Cedric del Favero
FROM: A. Hawthorne II
If you insist. Enjoy darting around your siblings right after lunchtime.
Cedric sighed, putting the phone away just as they ducked outside to the edge of the highway, a yellow taxi parked nearby. He’d been able to charmspeak the cabbie into following the odd request, and by the look of the balding man in the driver’s seat, he’d have to use it some more… and probably for the remainder of the ride. Gesturing for his quest mates to follow, Cedric led them to the yellow vehicle, poking his head through the lowered window of the passenger seat to shoot the taxi driver a dazzling smile. “I hope you weren’t waiting on my friends and I for too long?” he asked, magic layering over his already suave voice and giving it a physically irresistible quality. The annoyance in the man’s gaze vanished and he frantically shook his head in response. The son of Venus chuckled, thanking him and confirming that they were still heading to the airport before opening the back door to let his friends through, sliding in beside them. As the taxi quickly entered the early morning traffic, Cedric settled into his seat with a quiet sigh, glancing over at the legacy of Nox. “Right, explanation time…” He quickly summarized where they were going and why exactly they were going there, finishing the short tangent with a shrug. “It’s our best shot. If he doesn’t have anything to tell us, it’s back to square one.”
( ooc ) And an eternity later... sorry guys! > <
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