All These People ((Anyone in Fourth))

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All These People ((Anyone in Fourth))

Post by Guest on Fri Dec 27, 2013 5:24 pm

Unlike last year, Jan didn't arrive to camp in a show-all salmon dress and sky-high shoes: it was winter, that that most definitely not winter attire. Instead, the model pulled up to the tree-topped hill in a navy sweater, jeans and boots, looking more American than European, a rarity, but one she seemed to look and feel natural in. A single suitcase followed her across the border (crossing was still a sticky process, not being a "full" demigod, and she felt like the mist still resisted her, though this was her third time crossing), and no nymph rushed to her side to gossip the walk away. No, she just walked down the path during the hour when there was little traffic, remembering that New York was colder than Seville, though the warmth walking generated was enough to keep the shivers at bay. Another jacket would have to be pulled from her suitcase, but Jan would have to make it to her barracks and see if one of the beds she preferred was still available. If not, Janelle sighed internally and glanced upwards, hoping her grandmother would help her with patience, if only this once.

Upon opening the door, Jan breathed a sigh of relief, walking to a spare bed and setting her suitcase on it immediately, no time to spare. With the bed claimed, however, the Spaniard looked around the room, taking in the changes and seeing how it compared to her memories. A body length mirror still hung in the corners (that had been one of the first changed Jan had insisted on, and made happen through questionable means), and she straightened and walked to the closest one, vain as always. Sure, she'd checked her appearance when the plane had landed and again before she had left the airport, but that didn't mean her looks didn't need another going-over. Nine hours of travel had failed to muss her hair - it was still stick-straight and now fell neatly to the middle of her lower back, its dark color making the navy a little more blue, a color more suitable to her worn and beaten jeans that still looked young and fresh, despite their actual age. Janelle took care of her knee-high boots and it showed - the calves did not slouch, and still wrapped around her legs firmly, that brown complimenting the camel of the new jacket she pulled over one arm, then the other. Jan pulled her hair over her shoulder, adding a twist at the back of her head that would hold her tie-less pony tail in place.

Quickly and efficiently, Jan moved her belongings from one place to another, keeping track of what went there, glancing at the clock only once, to determine if it was too late in the day to apply additional make-up, and realizing that yes, it was - too much liner and shadow was "OK" in the morning, when it had ample time to smudge over the course of the day. It was, however, early afternoon with only four hours before dinner and a few more before lights out, when she'd have to remove everything on her face, a task Jan paid her usual amount of attention to, taking in every detail and working towards perfection as carefully as she could. Many of the makeup professionals had been amazed that Jan had never had an eye infection due to improperly removed makeup, and in response, Janelle always smiled and waved a q-tip around, always saying it was her best friend. With her dagger tucked safely away, under her pillow, Jan headed back down the aisle, headed for the door, wondering if her renaissance-styled rapier (which, admittedly, was the Camp's rather than hers) was still in the armory. It was the only sword style that Jan approved of, lacking the muscle to swing a traditional gladius or the desire to build such strength. Only a few feet from the door, Jan heard the latch click open and she stopped, remembering well that, in Camp Jupiter, she was likely to go flying if someone ran into her, including the door.

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