¿Quién aquí? ((Jespice, potentially Marius...?))((PG))

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¿Quién aquí? ((Jespice, potentially Marius...?))((PG))

Post by Guest on Mon May 06, 2013 8:15 pm

Note: this is set an hour or two after a thread that isn't posted yet, so it's OK if you don't understand some of what I'm referencing.

If there was one thing that Janelle wouldn't learn, it was that family reunions were absolutely exhausting. Not physically - no, she never did enough to make her muscles ache quite like that - but emotionally. Learning to live with, accept and love her uncle had been a many-month process that had left Janelle more frazzled than she had liked for quite sometime. Leaving him had been equally painful, although that had taken a much shorter amount of time and wasn't necessarily on her mind just then - Tío's son had a way of occupying Janelle's thoughts. But even with her mind buzzing, processing what had just happened rather than an event nearly the day before, the weight of her going through such dramatic highs and lows so rapidly was taking its toll. Despite her Victorian straight back and high chin, subtle lines of exhaustion wormed their way around her eyes, though they remained largely hidden by her newly smudged make-up.

Despite it being relatively early in the afternoon, all Janelle wanted was to go to bed (a product of jetlag, surely, not her emotional roller coaster), and do so away from prying eyes. Her little flower of a nymph had kept Janelle fairly current in Camp Jupiter's news, but as it had excluded the events of Cohort Four, Janelle had assumed it was still her lovely little quiet place, inhabited by the centurion named at the Feast of Fortuna and maybe one or two others that had been sorted in Janelle's absence. To her, her barrack and the quaint little thing that wished to be a bed (especially by the standards she'd gotten used to in Tío's house) was the perfect place to be. She wouldn't even have to change or remove her makeup - all she needed was a mattress. And so it was that the elder Carrillo walked down the Vic Principalis in her favorite salmon pink dress (who couldn't love a high-necked, low-back, long-sleeve, pencil-cut skirt that ended right where it was supposed to, just inches above her kneecaps) in her favorite stilettos, accompanied by all three of her bags, stacked in a fashion that defied physics.

It wasn't until Janelle opened the door that the noise from inside registered in her ears, causing her heart to drop. More people than she had thought had been placed in her sleeply little cohort, news that was greatly unwelcome. "Hablaremos pronto," Jan whispered to the potted daisy in her hand, barely glancing at the face of the nymph in the center of the petals. Venus had said it herself - a granddaughter of the goddess of beauty and passion having an unreliable gossip source, one given to Janelle by Venus herself, no less, was simply inexcusable. Ever since that visit, the flow of gossip had improved dramatically, though gaps in the girl's knowledge had remained, as evidenced by the no longer bare walls of Barack Four. Aware that the flower was trying to say something, but unable to hear it, Janelle finally stepped into the building that had originally been hers. Refusing the temptation to look side to side and examine who lived where, Janelle toted her bags nearly to the end of the aisle, offering prayer after prayer to the gods that her bed hadn't been defiled by anyone else in her time gone. Four beds in from the far wall, on the left, lower bunk, she specified, glancing at the ceiling as she ended her praying with an appeal to Venus.

There were sheets on her bed. Her sheets were in her bag - this could be fixed. Those weren't standard issue Camp sheets on her bed. The bed was made slightly sloppily. Slowly and in a manner that hid the terror she felt, Janelle took her hand off of her bags and placed it on her lockets, falling back on her nervous habit of rubbing them in times of anxiety, though the presence of the new locket caught her by surprise. It was the surprise, however, that allowed Janelle to find her voice and look beyond the closest two feet of her former bed. "¿Cama de quién es esto?" Jan whispered, yanking her eyes away and aiming them down the aisle to see if any guilty faces presented themselves. Hardly a second thought occurred before Janelle repeated herself in English, a habit that had ingrained itself quickly during her last stay at Camp - only one other person spoke Spanish fluently, and she had brought him here. "Whose bed is this?" Janelle demanded, finally looking at the head of the bed, a sort of cold fury building in her voice and eyes as the time passed.

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Re: ¿Quién aquí? ((Jespice, potentially Marius...?))((PG))

Post by Guest on Tue May 07, 2013 11:49 am

Jespice woke up in the early morning, like he did every morning and got out of bed with a smile. He felt great, everything seemed great… today was probably going to turn out terribly. But the son of Cupid was used to things turning out terribly… even if he didn’t know why. With a yawn Jespice hopped out of bed and slipped on comfortable and rather formal clothing. It was the type of outfit the son of Cupid wore relatively often, a formal suit and a light blue tie. Jespice buttoned the small buttons carefully and quietly as not to wake anyone else in the cabin, and then he tiptoed out of the cabin just to wander around. The son of Cupid did this most mornings. He hated being alone, but walking around camp in the mornings by himself was actually peaceful. Peace wasn’t something Jespice got often, the Roman camp ran on a strict schedule and the Greek camp was just… so Greek-y. The people he met there were crazy. Honestly Jespice couldn’t say he wasn’t less crazy, but he was Roman… that proved some point right?

By the time people were actually starting to get up on their own, Jespice had circled the camp a few times and flirted with a few nymphs. The son of Cupid was returning back to his camp with a branch-like slap mark across his face when he passed by a girl. Jespice didn’t usually take notice of girls when he passed by unless they tried to get his attention but… oh gods. The son of Cupid couldn’t help but spin around and look again. The girl was out of place but in a good way. Jespice almost whistled at her and he walked a few steps backwards before turning around again. The son of Cupid ran his fingers through his hair. She had to be a daughter of Venus; her beauty wasn’t like anything he had ever seen… whoa… Jespice stopped himself. That wasn’t the way to think, he had a boyfriend. But, whoa…. Jespice continued walking, debating on whether to go after the girl and talk to her. He had seen so many girls in his life but she was easily the prettiest… The son of Cupid shrugged his shoulders and went about his business, he’d run into her again that camp wasn’t that big… he’d see her somewhere and talk to her…

Jespice circled the camp another time before showing back up at his barracks. He needed to get cloths and change into more casual clothing. When the son of Cupid opened the door he knew instantly something was different. People were quiet and looked… guilty. That was strange… Jespice followed their eyes and saw who that were looking at. His jaw nearly dropped. It was that girl, the pretty girl from before. Jespice had never expected to see her again so soon. He looked down at the bags that she had, then scanned up to look at her face… she seemed… annoyed. No, not annoyed. Angry. Jespice bit his lip. Why was she mad? What had happened? “Whose bed is this?” the cold fury in her voice was obvious. The son of Cupid looked down… oh crap that was his bed. Why was she angry? People were mumbling, pushing around Jespice so that they could leave the cabin. “That’s my bed, love” Jespice said with a quirky grin. He stepped forward, out of the doorway and people leaked out mumbling. “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new. I’ll help you find a bed” Jespice continued, trying to be helpful. It was clear from other people’s reactions that the girl wasn’t new.

They all recognized her, but Jespice didn’t. The son of Cupid had been at camp for a while, but he was still relatively new. “I’m Jespice Cane” he began; it was hard for Jespice to look at the girl directly. Her cold stare was stabbing into him. Apparently he had done something wrong. “Do you –uh- need help with your bags?” the son of Cupid was trying to helpful. For some reason he was having a hard time thinking. He didn’t know what to do or say, his speech defiantly wasn’t as smooth as it normally was when he talked to girls. “I think I saw you this morning, but I wasn’t sure.” Jespice flashed a smile “You’re so beautiful I wasn’t sure if you were real or not” …fail. The son of Cupid wanted to hit his head against the wall. What a stupid thing to say. Cupid would be ashamed… this wasn’t like him. Jespice was slightly red in the face. Hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. He smoothed his hair back and let out a quiet sigh. This seemed like it would a long day….

((this kinda sucks Im sorry))

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Re: ¿Quién aquí? ((Jespice, potentially Marius...?))((PG))

Post by Guest on Tue May 07, 2013 6:49 pm

((Yours doesn't, but mine's short.))

The voice of a guy pulled Janelle's gaze away from the bed and towards him. Like most in his situation, he had to deal with Janelle's version of a death stare, though he, unlike most, made an impression. Definitely a relative as first glance, though the longer hair threw her off. A smirk almost appeared as she remembered that the androgynous look was most definitely American - a look this cousin? fit perfectly (Jan assumed that if he cut his hair and took his earrings out, he'd look more masculine, of course). He - Janelle was sure enough that this person was a he, despite his facial features - offered to help her move, and her cold stare was finally broken, though it was only replaced with a condescending smirk. "I move myself, thanks," Jan replied as she stepped backward. If he had had the manners to take her bed from her, then he'd have to deal with her living across the aisle as rambunctiously as she pleased.

He stumbled over himself and Janelle let Jespice talk himself out, performing a smooth turn-on-the-heel that allowed her to look over her new living space. It, of course, looked like every empty bed within Camp Jupiter, but to Janelle it had the plus of being in the same spot as her preferred bed, just opposite, and it wasn't covered in Jespice's things. "When did Jeff leave? The Centurion," Janelle asked suddenly, placing her two handbags on the bed. Once Jan had reached Spain, the girl had written Camp Jupiter several times (and Chiron once or twice). The letters that weren't directed at Griffin were typically to those that technically held authority over her, like the Praetors or Centurion Price. Unlike her letters to Griffin, those letters were never returned, so she had assumed they had gone through, like letters were supposed to do. None of those Greek Iris Messages, especially for one that was born in lands that were first civilized by the Romans.

But the barack had the same level of general authority and orderliness as it had had the year prior. Cohort Four didn't have their first New York centurion for very long, it seemed. And given that Jespice didn't have an inkling of who she was (surely she'd left behind rumors to keep the legionnaires entertained), chances were Jespice wouldn't actually know Jeff Price, or if he did, Jespice knew the centurion about as well as Janelle - five minutes' worth of congratulations due last Feast of Fortuna. Given Centurion Price's suspected lack of presence during Jespice's arrival, it wouldn't be hard to believe that Janelle's request had been unknown, if it had even been delivered to Jeff. In matters of finding out whether or not Janelle's attempts of communications had been successful, the nymph network had been absolutely useless, forcing Jan into the uncomfortable position of having to guess. "But more importantly, Jespice, when did you get here?" Jan continued, gingerly setting down her flower before turning to face him again, her gaze softened notably, though it was still less than friendly.

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Re: ¿Quién aquí? ((Jespice, potentially Marius...?))((PG))

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