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Blood breeds true. (Elijah)

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Post by Guest Sun Jan 20, 2013 2:46 pm

The door creaked open, revealing a simple but organized, neat bedroom. The bed was nicely done and objects were put in their appropriate places and weren't cluttered in one spot or scattered everywhere. That was expected of a Roman, of course. Noelle never liked how uptight and strict the Romans were, but she wished that the Hermes cabin could be more like this. There were socks and small pieces of trash everywhere, and she, some unclaimed kids and a few of her siblings had to do most of the cleaning up, and it took awhile. That was the consequence of belonging to a cabin where there wasn't enough beds for the kids and they had to have sleeping mats on the floor. But she did admire her the cabin leaders; her sister, Aria, and brother, Connor, for being able to keep track of who does what and all that, since the list of Cabin Eleven-ers was endless.

Anyhow, one must be very curious to see what a Camp Jupiter-disliking Greek girl was doing in one of the most keep-out places of the very wroth Romans: the Principia, where the Praetors lodged, especially without any permission. Well, she herself didn't know either. It just happened when one day when she woke up from a good night's sleep in the Hermes cabin, she felt like doing something new and mischevious, a desire that clung on to her like she was some magnet ever since the day when she had been claimed by her father in the Woods. She didn't like the idea of having a new personality twist from being claimed, but somehow she didn't fight back against it. She just went along with it. It was her nature now, the reason why she was her father's daughter.

Pranking cabins and stealing small objects with the assistance of some friends and her siblings was fun, but that was getting pretty old. She wanted to do something..."exotic". So she had discussed that with a brother of hers, and he told her that she should at least get a glimpse of Camp Jupiter by walking inside of it. He couldn't go along with her, though, since he had other plans. At first she balked at the idea, but it slowly sunk into her, and she inevitably found herself in front of the Roman camp, with the help of a map given to her by a child of Athena. She had been careful not to wear her orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, but just a normal red plaid button-down shirt, black skinny jeans and black converse shoes. She had successfully sneaked into the camp without getting noticed; well, not significantly by anyone. She was afraid that someone would know she was an intruder since she wasn't wearing a purple t-shirt, but none of the kids seemed to mind. Her impression of Camp Jupiter was that it had a sense of power and discipline to it. Everyone looked like they had been polished with lessons and scoldings on how to behave, and the buildings looked new and spotless. She had to admit, the Romans had a good living style, and their leaders, the Praetors were really putting them into shape. Not that she wanted to be Roman, but it was somewhat admirable. One thing that made her wonder was that the place didn't have a lot of cabins, although she had heard that the Romans weren't placed in cabins according to who their parents were.

But one building had caught her eye, and something seemed to be leading her to it. The words on the building were in Latin, so she couldn't read them, but she had a feeling that it wasn't ordinary. It stood out amongst the other cabins and buildings of the camp. She had opened the door and entered it. It was some big space with a table and some chairs, and a map was on the table, but there didn't seem to be much. There were, however, two doors leading to different rooms. She had walked over to one of the rooms and pressed her ear against it but didn't seem to hear anyone in it. After listening carefully for any subtle shifting noises and not having heard any, she entered.

And now there she was, standing in the room of a Praetor, although she didn't know that she was. She was wondering who it belonged to, though. Did it belong to the people in charge, or the ordinary campers? Maybe the ordinary campers only had two rooms in each cabin? That was just silly. No one could live like that, plus she felt that this place was more special. She decided to let that thought lie, since she'd never know since she knew nothing of Camp Jupiter. Now was the time to do what her instincts led her to do. She looked around for anything that looked important. Perhaps look through the cabinets? Or look under the pillow? Maybe there was stuff under the bed. It didn't take long for her to notice the box, though. The box standing on a small table next to the bed. That, too, seemed to have some special aura around it. Walking over to it, she gently lifted the lid up, and her eyes met a beautiful bronze medal. Her eyes shimmering, she reached her hand inside the box and picked up the medal in her hands, looking at it closely. There were medal words that protruded from it like those on a plaque, but the words were in English and Latin, so she could barely read it. It was probably some ordinary reward from a class or organization, but Noelle felt a sudden urge to take it. Take it because it meant something to that person, and that was what thieves do. It was valuable already because it was special to someone. Her mother had always told her that stealing was bad and sinful, but her father's influence was stronger, turning her into a vixen of some sort. She smirked and squished the medal into the pocket of her jean, then closed the lid of the box. She was about to look up again when she heard someone standing in front of the entrance of the room...

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Post by Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan Fri Jan 25, 2013 6:06 am

Sleep...that was all Elijah wanted right now. He had just been hit with a whammy...a big one, by Jack Wheelan, and rather than deal with it like a big boy, Elijah just wanted to curl up in bed and forget it happened. Because the older boy, who supposedly liked Elijah, had been changed by Elijah, whatever, was nothing. Nothing except a constriction in the boy's chest that he wanted to pretend wasn't there...because he had no idea what it meant. Something felt different, though, and the boy was just going to blame it on Jack (who had just been claimed by Venus, so it would make sense if there was some manipulation going on). Deep down, though, Elijah knew that the older boy was being serious...that the son of Discordia had changed him somehow. And there had to be a reason Venus cleaned up the leftover mess of a black eye that Elijah had given Jack but left the ugly, jagged healing cut. Oh Gods...the boy didn't even want to think about it. Jack's words still rang in his ears...But I don’t want to forget the man that changed me. Elijah wasn't capable of changing anyone. He could throw a punch, break bones, whatever. He didn't change people.

Tilting his head down as he walked away from Jack in that sexy, too short to be authentic Roman toga, Elijah shivered. His clothes had been changed by Venus as well, and they were not made for walking in the cold. Not to mention the jeans felt like they could rip at any second. The boy hurried his way to the Principia...back to warmth and warm clothes, back to normalcy, back to safety. And he would sleep. Sleep away the pain, sleep away the weird feeling in his chest, just sleep. The weird part was, Elijah wasn't angry anymore. He wasn't even radiating, for the first time in awhile. He felt calm, at peace. It was...strange. Maybe everything was just over with Jack Wheelan...the boy wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. That would be nice. Although he had the feeling that wasn't the case. Jack would pop back up, in any way he could, especially if he was serious about Elijah having changed his life. Oh Gods...did that mean he would follow Elijah around forever? No, of course not. He'd give up when he saw that Elijah really didn't care for him at all, find a new poor life changing boy to seduce, and go about his merry way. Meanwhile, Elijah would be stuck. He wasn't attractive, or smart, or anything, really. He was just Elijah.

Entering the Principia, Elijah was relieved to see that Calix wasn't there (probably out with Lúth), and no one had come for help. The boy was safe to make it to his room in this ridiculous outfit, put on some sweatpants and an extra warm hoodie (hopefully Venus had returned the one he had been wearing) and snuggle up in bed. Maybe he would read a little before he went to sleep...the boy was reading a fascinating biography/study of Livy, and he figured that could use some attention. His concentration levels hadn't been up to their normal standards, what with everything that had happened, but Elijah felt he could do some reading now. It was a good feeling...though sleep would be nice too. For someone who was a severe insomniac, recent events had not been helping his sleep schedule, not to mention the nonstop radiating that was quite draining...well, it was best to say that Elijah hadn't been sleeping well at all. But he felt he could get some sleep right now. If the boy could get over that weird feeling in his chest. It would go away with sleep. And Elijah was utterly exhausted. He was considering just crawling under the covers in his current state of dress, though he knew he wouldn't be warm for very long if he did.

His door. It was a beautiful site. Just a plain, white door...but it led to Elijah's meticulously neat room. Comfort, safety. A warm bed with lots of blankets. Gods, the boy could almost cry he was so happy to be there. It almost seemed too good to be true. But it was true, and the boy was going to be out of these ridiculous clothes and into his bed. He could forget all this, he could forget Jack Wheelan. Dream freely, dream about happy things. Nothing could get in his way anymore. Because, if anything, Elijah just hated Jack even more. Hated him for what he had done, what he was doing...some sort of freaky Venus manipulation thing, probably. But finally, the boy admitted to himself that he couldn't hate Jack. It was just...with a sigh, Elijah pulled out his keys and unlocked the door to his room. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But upon second glance, the boy's eyebrows narrowed. There was already someone in his room, pocketing something. The son of Discordia felt the radiating start again, the anger bubbling in his chest. He hadn't seen a Mercury kid in ages...which meant a Greek Hermes kid had the gall to come over and try to steal something. Elijah was not about to let them get away with that.

"Well," Elijah said softly, raising his eyebrow at the girl. "Sneaking over to the Roman camp to steal from a praetor. A praetor with a nasty streak of chaos and violence. Not a smart idea," knowing he probably didn't look too intimidating in his half open silk shirt and tight jeans (thanks, Venus), his combat boots were still on and his face alone could usually communicate most of what was going on. It was an important thing, portraying things with his face. Elijah was short, and probably wouldn't be found too intimidating otherwise. Gods only knew no one had taken him seriously at high school until he started hitting them. "So..." the boy circled around the girl, who looked vaguely familiar, even though he wasn't sure from where. "I'm going to nicely suggest you put it back where it belongs and..." the box in the girl's hand clued the boy into what had been stolen. And it made him even angrier. He cleared his throat. "Put the medal back," he snarled, suddenly not sounding too nice. "Put it back, or someone's in massive amounts of trouble. And it's not me."
Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan
Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan
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Son of Discordia Ferocimus
Third Cohort
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Age : 27
Registration date : 2010-10-21

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Post by Guest Fri Feb 01, 2013 12:36 pm

The last time anyone checked, Hermes always got away with whatever he did, his biggest debut being when he was only an infant when he stole his brother, Apollo's cattle. He did things with higher risks and succeeded in one piece, and he was able to boast about his achievements. Same thing with his children. But not Noelle, taking a high risk and bluntly getting caught red-handed in the process. So much for being a daughter of Hermes. The girl stood completely frozen, all the color of her face disappearing, her breath stopping, sweat trickling down her head and her heart beating so fast it could leap out of her ribcage. Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh my freaking gods, she heard her inner self breathlessly say. A chill ran down her spine, although she didn't know why she was feeling such adrenaline and fear. Maybe because this was her first time trying to do a crime in an intimidating and unfamiliar place. Or because the person's voice was familiar and she recognized it as Praetor Emmanuel's, who she had met at the Mess Hall. She didn't need him to tell her who he was for her to know. Messing with the Roman praetor was a bad, bad idea, but most of all she was turning a good acquaintance into an enemy. He had been very polite toward her in their first meeting, but obviously in the second and then on they would love each other like cat and mice.

He circled in front of her, and she immediately recognized the feminine face with some make-up powdered on it and the dark hair. Although the way he dressed puzzled her; it was a mix of a female and a womanizer, really tight jeans and revealing silk shirt and all, not by any means like a Roman leader, but right now it didn't matter. She did her best to return his very icy look with an expressionless face, which was not easy since her face was flushed and her throat was constricted. The fact that he was a little shorter than her didn't stifle her fears, not to mention that he was radiating chaos. Noelle was used to it, since her friend Galen did the same, but Galen had always been jolly and nice with her. Elijah was obviously hating her in every way. She calmed down somewhat, though, when he offered to let her put whatever she stole back. She heaved a sigh of relief. That was easy. He sounded hostile but quite calm and stately, so things should be okay if she just put the medal back into the box and be gone from the Principia...

She didn't know how much the medal meant to him, though, and she was going to find out. Apparently he hadn't known that she took and object from the box, but when his eyes laid on the box, he was no longer the same. An already furious boy turned even more ferocious, and the look he gave her could've shredded her to small pieces if he was made out of daggers and swords. When he spoke, he sounded more menacing. Yet he still gave her a choice to put the medal back into the box, even if he worded it more evilly. Because he was more angrier one would've thought that Noelle would've immediately complied to what he told her to do since she had been extremely nervous getting caught, but strangely, and perhaps unfortunately, it was not so. She felt more...braver, now that she knew who she was dealing with. Her instincts were telling her not to give in so easily, to be more determined and at all costs take what she had come for, like a true offspring of the patron of thieves.

Straightening herself up, she lifted her chin and a smirk formed on her face. She cleared her throat and started slowly backing away. "Next time," she jeered, "When you want to pull off the Julius Caesar look, I suggest you don't dress like a wanton night-clubber. Choose something...manly." She gave a slight pause, then continued, "Oh, and drink more milk. Hope it ain't too late for that. Good-bye." Then she turned around and dashed full-speed toward the entrance of the room and door of the Principia. Her breathing quickened and her face started flushing again as she did her best to outrun the praetor who wasn't going to lose so easily. Being a daughter of Hermes, she had some influence over speed and was running faster than usual. But again, this was an angry praetor she was messing with. She had just stolen something valuable to him and mocked him, and to top it off Romans had a nasty and unforgiving nature. Plus he was the son of the Roman goddess of chaos and discord. She wondered wryly what her mother would think of this, seeing her precious daughter who she had raised to know the morals and ethics of life stealing things like a mean ole crook and running away without order or discipline. Obviously this was going to be a big disappointment to her lord father on many levels.

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