halfbloodhill_logs | Covering Bases (Open)

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Covering Bases (Open)

Who: Hermione Granger and whomever happens to cross her path
What: Training/practicing her magic
Where: Near the lake
When: Sunday, August 4th, early evening
Why: Because after the hectic changes that occurred over the last week and a half she doesn't feel like angering any of the other gods

Of course she was secretly smug about the fact that she'd followed the rules this time. She hadn't incurred the wrath of Hera. She did feel slightly sorry for those who had been punished though.

On the other hand, this just pushed Hermione further into the mindset she often waffled on; was she there to learn, or there to make friends and push boundaries? She knew she belonged at Camp because she was a demigod and she knew she was there to train and protect not only her family and others in her home town, but herself.

Her magic was powerful. That much she also knew. Over the last three years that she'd been attending Camp she'd grown stronger and better than she had been as a 13 year old. But she also knew she still had a long way to go. Fire spells and the creation of illusions were impressive, sure, but if she settled for mastering only a few skills where would she be?

She waited until later in the day when the lake was more or less cleared out save for maybe a few of the other campers. They weren't a huge concern though. Not anymore. She was just going to mind her business for once and settle in to recite her incantations and focus on her magic. She's doing her best to keep one eye on her form and one eye on the area around her to ensure nobody sneaks up on her.

Yeah, good luck with that, Granger. It doesn't help that by now it's pretty well-known among her group of acquaintances that she always comes to the same spot.

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Hermione had been the one to introduce Eponine to this particular spot by the lake. Partially obscured, it was a place she came from time to time when she needed a smoke break. Like now, for instance.

Heading down the path, she waited until she was behind a bush before taking a cigarette out of her pocket and flipping open her lighter. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she inhaled as she brought the flame to the end, lighting it. There. So much better.

Exhaling, she looked over to realize that, oh, hey. Guess she wasn't so alone. "Y'know, you should probably get a better hiding spot," she said, glancing over at the girl.

Sometimes Hermione wondered if she should actually take Eponine's advice and find a better hiding spot. Was she really hiding though? She often told herself that it was merely so that she could focus, but when it came down to it? Yes, she had chosen this spot because it was obscured and out of the way. She cut a glance at the other girl, pausing in her practice suddenly.

"It's not really a hiding spot," she protested briefly before honing in on the cigarette dangling from Eponine's mouth. She didn't exactly approve of the other girl's habits, but she knew better than to try and stop her today. They'd gone in that circle countless times and Hermione rarely ever won, if ever. "Long day?"

She wasn't even supposed to be smoking, technically. But, well, she had an addiction, and who really wanted to deal with already-ornery Eponine going through withdrawl? Sure, they had ambrosia and all that to make it better, but c'mon.

At least she didn't smoke around the younger campers, like Charlie.

"Study spot, whatever," she said with a shrug, coming to take a seat on a rock unprompted. "It's a good spot, though. I get why you like it." Out of the way, quiet.

Eponine tossed her head back, exhaling smoke. "Not really? Every day's long here, but I got some good target practice in." Eponine's weapon of choice was knives, finding close combat to be far better suited to her speed and size. But that didn't mean she wasn't about to not practice throwing her knives.

Plus, part of the snazzy part of her literal ring daggers? They always came back.

It was best to just leave her alone and not try to take away her vices. Hermione learned that lesson ages ago, but she still made it a point to let Eponine know it wasn't exactly the best coping device. She didn't seem bothered that the girl was making herself comfortable and instead she simply folded up a sheet of paper in her hand to slip into her pocket.

"Study spot," she agreed before walking closer to hover over Eponine. "I can't exactly blame everyone else for enjoying it, too."

She lifted both of her eyebrows briefly, not entirely surprised. Everyone was out practicing today, it seemed, but she'd seen what Eponine could do with knives. It was just one of the small things she maybe-kinda-sorta envied. Hermione's choice was a bow and arrow, but she still struggled with perfect accuracy. "Not on people today, right?"

When you lived the sort of life that Eponine did outside of camp, absolutely nothing came close to a good coping device other than addictive chemicals, and even then they left something to be desired.

"I mean, it's a good spot. I doubt you're the first person to discover it, but hey, I intend to make use of it, too." She tapped some ash off on the rock before raising an eyebrow at Hermione.

"Just today. Tomorrow's another story, I'm trying to see if Charlie will volunteer to play William Tell. Or get him on a spinning wheel." Cheap carnival tricks, but hey, it'd be fun. And that kid was always up for adventure. There was something about him that reminded her of Gavroche, perhaps that's why she had such a fondness for the young kid. Despite, y'know, not being on the best terms with any of the other Apollo campers. "Unless, of course, you wanna volunteer."

She only looks marginally annoyed at the implication that this wasn't her spot first, but rationally she knows Eponine's correct. She also was aware that the girl would be leaving soon and so arguing about stupid things like that wasn't necessary at all.

"I think I'll pass," she said with a slightly nervous laugh. She wasn't sure how she felt about a child offering to play target for Eponine, but at the same time she knew demigod children were strong enough to handle it. "You'll have better luck with a tree though unless you can convince someone to build you a spinning wheel."

Okay, Hermione had a point, but Eponine wasn't about to let the point rest. "I'm sure they have one in the back of the armory. A moving target, perfect for archery, why not use it for knives?" She smiles. Charlie would totally be up for it, and besides, they had ambrosia. That could totally fix a knife to the head.

Not to mention, she had more than enough faith in her abilities to not harm the kid.

If he objected, she could pitch it as an Apollo Scout hazing ritual or something. Even if Charlie was the only Apollo Scout ever and she'd made up the rankings herself.

Ambrosia or not, it was still a kid possibly getting nailed in the head by a sharp object flying at fast speeds. She had to admit she was curious now though. She didn't spend nearly as much time in the armory as she should have, just enough to get an idea of what was there and what could be used.

"How are you going to convince Charlie then?"

Was it morbid that she wanted to watch if Eponine actually pulled this off? Possibly a little bit, but there was a reason she was playing the responsible, aloof card at the moment.

"Probably pretty easily." She wraggled her eyebrows. "I am, after all, my father's daughter." She meant it both ways, though she had no idea if both points were caught by Hermione. She may have been Hermes daughter, but Bernard Thénardier also happened to be a dangerous man with a criminal past. Spinning stories, creating lies, convincing people of falsities. It had always been second nature to her, and with her skills inherited from her biological father, the result was incredibly effective.

"I'll give him a badge for his Apollo Scouting."

Hermione didn't know a lot about the man that Eponine was raised by, but she knew he had some sort of (horrible, in her opinion) influence over her, not to mention the fact that Hermes kids were known for their cunning nature. She could only shake her head and she sighed loudly.

"Just do use all a favor and make sure you don't scar him, all right?" Figuratively and literally, in this case. "Perhaps a few of us should monitor you both before you act."

"Hey, relax. Don't tell anyone, but I've got a soft spot for cute kids." Mostly cute kids that reminded her of her younger brother. And Charlie happened to be one of those. But seriously, if Hermione told anyone, she had another thing coming.

"I'm not going to let anything hurt him, myself included. Trust me." Hah. Trust Eponine. Generally that required her to trust someone herself.

It was valuable information to have, but she was also smart enough not to go sharing with everyone she knew. It'd be the end of Hermione Granger as the world knew her.

"Trust you," she repeated, lifting both eyebrows. Trust wasn't exactly something she threw around easily, especially knowing the sort of temperament Eponine had. "Sure about that?"

Good. 'Cause there wouldn't be much of Hermione Granger left.

"Your call. You know me. I don't trust anyone here." Except maybe possibly Gabriel and Jehan. "And I wouldn't trust myself if I were you. But if you think I wanna commit homicide on a 12-year-old... Then you've really misunderstood my personality."

She scoffed. "That's not what I said, and you know it. I was merely suggesting that sometimes...you push people." That's what children of Hermes did best, wasn't it? Persuasion and manipulation. "I just want to make sure neither of you are pushed too far."

She gave the older girl a look. "I push people away. That's it.

"What's the difference?" She knew there was a difference for most people, but she honestly wondered if Eponine had a distinction between the two.

"The difference is I don't do well when people get close to me, and they don't do too well close to me, either. When people get close to me, they get seriously fucked. I mean it: I spent my formative years in a two-bedroom apartment in the most run-down part of Brooklyn. And besides, I'm not exactly a people-person." She takes a long inhale of her cigarette.

That, and if people got too close, and learned her full story... She was open about being here on court order, but there were parts of her life she'd rather keep hidden.

Other than the quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was overhearing them, she kept her eyes trained on Eponine's face. Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it...

"When was the last time you really tried?" Well, she said it anyway. Hermione was still under the firm belief that if people tried hard enough some answer had to reveal itself sooner or later. Maybe it was naive, or perhaps she was just that stubborn. It was hard to say what her motivations were, and she knew that the other girl was most likely going to react much like Ron did when asked why she wasn't trying hard enough.

Oh my god, Hermione, stop with the advice, she wanted to moan, but, instead, Eponine took another drag of her cigarette. Honestly, she appreciated that she was trying to get her to open up. Same as she did when Enjolras got on her case and tried to get her to admit her life wasn't hopeless. She got care here that she never would have even thought was possible, back at home.

"During the ill-faded Revoluncheon," she said, referencing Enjolras' plan to try to get Hera to let them all sit together rather than at cabin tables. And, actually, during the fall-out, when she had to play doctor to a poisoned Courfeyrac, because not only had he gotten her powers, but he'd gotten her ring, too. Not the ring knives, but rather, a small ring that, if opened, contained a poison spike. It had been a 'look, you're my daughter' present from Hermes himself, so, apparently, it went to Courfeyrac.

Fun fun fun.

The trouble with being an insufferable know-it-all (or an ex-insufferable know-it-all) was that habits died hard and that included preaching advice. At this point she didn't even care if Eponine acknowledged it. Hermione had started to learn how to pick up when the girl was listening and when she was just blowing her off. It was half of the reason she never seriously gave up on trying. Naturally it frustrated her to no end, but it was just another project of hers.

No, not a project. But not quite something she'd call a friendship either. Maybe it didn't need a label.

She can't help but grin slightly at the name, trying not to let it grow too wide lest Eponine misinterpret it. "I suppose that actually did take a large amount of effort on your part. How badly did it backfire on you?"

If Hermione and Enjolras teamed up to try to get Eponine to listen and actually absorb (which she did), perhaps together they could actually get her to act on the advice they gave her, even if it was something along the lines of calling child services in order to help Azelma and Gavroche.

How badly did it backfire? Pretty badly. Okay, she got some coffee cake out of it, and half of a sandwich, but the food here was free anyway, so whatever.

Wordlessly, Eponine transfered her cigarette into her right hand, and held up her left hand, palm towards Hermione. On it was a careful line, the dark pink of freshly healed skin, spanning her palm. "I'd say pretty badly. But it could have been worse."

It helped ease her mind a bit to know that other people were also looking out for the girl, but at the same time she had to wonder how far gone she already was. Still, she was always a little pleased the more they talked. It always felt like progress.

However, whatever she was expecting her to say today wasn't that, and she's left staring at her palm. It's hard to ignore the shocked look on her face. People get hurt in Camp all the time. That wasn't a secret; they were half-bloods and could take beatings moreso than mortals. The problem was that that looked fairly fresh and still healing and it bothered her.

"What happened?"

Eponine was so far gone that she, personally, had no hope of returning. Others only saw part of the picture. They didn't see the deep festering wounds that were in her heart and mind. So of course they thought there was hope. Eponine, meanwhile, knew she would die before she was 23.

"Don't look so shocked," she said, trying to shrug off Hermione's shock. "I was talking with Prouvaire and needed fresh air." Rather, she'd left the cafeteria too quickly, needing to get out. "I was playing with a knife when he joined me, and I switched my grip. No big deal." She'd refused any sort of ambrosia for no reason other than pure stubbornness.

As if she wasn't used to people who always were well-versed in the cold, hard facts. Ron continually reminded them of how short of a life demigods lead. Still, it didn't stop her from wanting to try and keep people as far away from the edge for as long as she could.

"Oh. So it was your own fault." Her expression relaxed into something less shocked and more stern. "It's still sort of a big deal."

"How is that a big deal?" She asked, looking at Hermione incredulously before taking another hit from her cigarette. "Accidents happen, no big. I'm healing and I'll have a bad-ass scar for a bit, then it'll fade. The end. No harm, no foul."

this is a terrible post I am sorry

no never its perfect

<3

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