Hermione Granger (
sometimesinsufferable) wrote in
halfbloodhill_logs2013-08-04 06:56 pm
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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.
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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It did mean he was done with the day and wanted nothing more to eat and pass out in his bunk back in Cabin 6. The shower could wait in the morning and maybe the tossing out of the shirt, because they were both jobs he really didn't want to bother with (as much as he was certain it would annoy some of his half-siblings).
He did make sure to do one thing, though. And that one was a familiar one at this point. He was used to her running off into her own spaces. She used to do it at school, too, but the bad thing was she always chose the same ones. Before it meant her stupid bullies would find her, now it just meant she was in the same places as usual. He could even see her as he made his way towards the lake and rolled his eyes.
Making his way quietly up, he figured she knew he was there as he propped the bow and arrows against a rock and moved to sit down. "Predictable, as always," he called, smirking slightly, "you know, strictly speaking, this is an awful habit you have. You've got to have seen a horror movie where some stalker killed someone because they went to the same places everyday... Actually happens, y'know."
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"Honestly, Ronald," she sighed. "You say that as though I'm not capable of handling myself against a stalker."
She didn't look as sure as she sounded though. He wasn't the only one who remembered how easily her childhood tormentors would track her down.
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Then he had to make a face. Ronald. After nearly six years you'd think she'd know by now that his name was Ron. But really she was the only one who could get away with that beyond his adopted mom...
Instead, he scoffed. "Yeah," he said pointedly, "sure. S'that why I had to come save your neck through middle school, eh?"
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"That's different and you know it's different!" Even if she didn't want to admit it, middle school still sort of haunted her a little bit. It didn't matter that she was a demigod and that she could do things mortals couldn't; part of her was still that weird, insecure know-it-all that needed to hide behind the Mist or her best friend. That didn't mean she had to make it obvious though.
"Anyway, if you'll recall I was the one who saved us from the Manticore, remember?"
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"Real different when a monster in disguise stalks you and attacks, sure," he said easily, cooly. It happened before. He didn't know it when he was a kid, but before her he'd had plenty of those experiences. Not that he'd told her, but there was one that she knew she knew. That she was the center cause of and then she went and said.
"I saved you first. I told you the guy was an idiot," he returned, scowling, "anyway, I didn't have any mystical powers remember?" Or no about any. Not that he did have any beyond having a knack for not dying in a fight.
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"The point is that I can still take care of myself," she said with only the slightest bit of hesitation in her voice. "I know Cormac was an idiot and I know that you chased him off the first time, but he came back and revealed himself to us. And I saved us. Mystical powers or not that counts."
It wasn't even a matter of who saved who anymore. It was all about who was right and who wasn't.
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His brows pulled downwards, and after a moment he pulled himself to full height. He was taller than her-- he could use that to his advantage. She'd saved him, she was right there, but that didn't mean she was right and he was going to prove it.
"Can you?" He said it point-blank, seriously, his tongue darting out to moisten his lip before he continued. "Who was it who managed to take out a few of those monsters they saw with a sword the first time?" It was true, at least. When his mother claimed him she'd done so in a way to give them something to fight with-- not just something that wouldn't permanently kill a monster along the way. He'd done well enough the first time, but--
"Face it. I know you. We've been in camp ages and you've focused on magic," Ron said, voice gruff, "you hate fighting. So what happens when you're in a situation where you can't be mystical? Can you do it then?
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She didn't step back when he rose to his full height, merely turning her nose up to try and keep her eyes locked on his. He was a good couple of inches taller than she was, but she wasn't easily intimidated by that anymore. Mostly. She inhaled deeply through her nose, a sharp sort of noise as she processed the question he was asking her. Of course she could. That was the point, wasn't it?
...then again...she had seen him take down the hellhounds when they were on the run to Camp three years ago. She'd watched him grow stronger every day he was at Camp with her and she knew instinctually that he also had a point. It hurt her to admit he had a point though.
"You're not the only one who's been training with weapons," she spoke again, trying to match his gruff tone but ending up sounding a little more frazzled than usual. "I could handle it."
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For more reasons than that, but they were the only reasons he thought of or even confessed to himsel.
Staring her down, Ron let out his own breath as his fingers flexed at his side. He knew she knew he had a point. She may have been smarter when it came to academics and could recite facts so fast that it would make his head spin, but he'd always been better at common sense. At plans to survive and knowing how to survive. It came with the territory of being an Athena kid, but it wasn't something that was exactly supernatural, ater all.
"Yeah?" He returned. Without a single moment of hesitance he bent down and grabbed the bow from its place and fished out the familiar pocket knife. "Take your pick, then."
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As soon as he grabbed the bow and his pocket knife though, she balked. She stumbled back a tiny bit out of the range of the bow, gawking at him in disbelief.
"What, now? You must be joking!"
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The hand that held the pocket knife went instinctively to steady her before dropping uselessly to his side. His expression didn't change from the serious, set look he had on before.
"Of course I mean right now," he said with an exhale, "you don't get to choose when you fight, do you? Or who? So let's do it." Because he wouldn't try to hurt her, that much she had to know, but he was also confident in what he knew about her.
"I'm not always going to be around, Hermione," he fumbled with a breath, "I've seen you. You're awful. So you've gotta learn someday because there's gonna come a time--" He swallowed and shrugged. He'd long since realized he may die in a monster battle one day, or she might. Or anyone. He knew and expected it in the war against the Titans just last summer. Maybe that was why this was so important. Regardless, it didn't stop him from treating it like he didn't know the fate of a demigod.
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She bit down on her lower lip as her hands fidgeted at her sides. Though she wasn't ADHD like her companion, she did have some nervous tics that arose on occasion.
"But...we don't even have our armor or anything! I'm not doing this right now." She tried to back off again, though her eyes lingered on the bow in his other hand. She could stand to get better with her aim. "And I'm not that awful."
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"How many times are you going to have armor when you're out grocery shopping?" Ron shot back, quirking a brow, "and you're dead awful." At least compared to him.
But he paused and scowled. "Admit it, you know I'm right," Ron said," I've instinct for this and you're my best friend. Really think I'd say it if it weren't true?"
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"You've instinct because you're one of Athena's kids," she retorted. She had always been very slightly envious of Ron's athletic ability (or anyone's really.) It wasn't as though she wasn't coordinated and couldn't hold her own, but it didn't come to her as naturally as it did other children, mortal and demigod alike.
Before she could change her mind, she suddenly reached forward and snatched the bow out of Ron's hand, backing up and looking upward in a challenging stance. "I don't know. Sometimes you say some really awful things."
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Raising a brow when she took the bow, Ron didn't move from his position. He figured she wasn't likely to shoot him with in an arrow straight to the face, but he did get caught on what she said next. "S'never without good reason," Ron grumbled. After all, he did try hard not to say the things he used to before they became friends. Sometimes insensitive? Cetainly. But he never really realized it when he said it. And he really did always try to make a point-- even if, you know, those points were really insensitive. He's just not good with emotions and people.
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She examined the bow, obtaining an arrow and loading it onto the bow calmly. He was right; se wouldn't shoot him in the face with an arrow on purpose. Accidentally...well, her aim was a lot better if she just focused. She suddenly stopped though upon hearing those words. "How is any of that for good reason?"
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Taking a step back out of precaution, Ron frowned and flicked open one of the blades on the pocket knife that didn't turn into his sword as a tick. She always had good form, but good form didn't mean anything when you had five seconds to noch and go. He was studying her before she stopped and his eyes went from bow and arms to her face. "What do you mean?" He responded thickly, "Pointing out you'll shoot someone in the eye like that is a good reason. So's telling you about learning to use a weapon."
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Her eyes are fixed on that knife in his hands but she'd made sure to perfect her form with graceful lines and strong angles. She did her best to avoid his eyes then, focusing on the tip of the arrow instead. "Never mind, Ron. " It was silly to bring up some of the insensitive things he'd said over the past and even the insensitive things he still says. "I'm not going to shoot eyes out."
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He wasn't going to stab her with it. He just flicked it open and closed, watching. Strong lines and grace didn't matter much if you couldn't do this faster. He frowned. "Not never mind, go on," he said easily, moving to point to one of the markers out in the lake, "right then. Prove it. See that? You've three chances to hit it square in the middle. Fifteen seconds to nock the arrow and shoot."
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She knew he would never hurt her on purpose. If there was anyone she trusted her whole life with, it was Ronald Weasley. However, she's not stupid enough to look away either as she held her stance with the bow, adjusting the arrow a bit. "Never. Mind." She settled for glaring at him before whirling around to face the markers. She grappled with the arrow a bit, fixing it to adjust it properly and promptly firing it toward the lake. She hit the marker, but on the very edge of the square.
"Fifteen seconds?"
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Frowning slightly, Ron rolled his eyes at the way she seemed to glare at him like he killed her pet or something. He decided to put the matter aside for the moment, but that didn't mean he would bring it up later. She needed t owork on this more.
"Loosen up. Feel and see at the same time, sort of the trick," he mumbled before giving a nod, "fifteen seconds. You've only two tries left."
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She huffed in irritation, trying not to lose her composure as she reset. For as often as she went about correcting everyone else, she hated being corrected herself. She especially hated it when it came to Ron because it was just admitting her flaws. It was a reminder of the first Capture the Flag game all over again where she'd realized she only possessed magical skills and had run off in tears to hide deep in the forest. After that she'd started to learn a variety of weapons, but the only one she had any real grasp on was archery.
"I know how many tries I have left!" she snapped, lining up again and firing off the second arrow. It hit the mark again but still off center. She was definitely thinking too much about the theory and the trajectory rather than feeling the pull of the bow and the dynamic of the arrow itself.
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The tension didn't leave his shoulders as he let out a breath. He wants to not talk, to just walk away and leave her there, but he struggles with it and instead clenches a hand. "Stop thinking about it so much," he said, frowning, "try again before I start counting your time off now."
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She was much more wary now that he was tense and annoyed. She still chose not to speak, following his instructions and only briefly opening her mouth to protest before closing it again. One more chance...she only had one more chance to prove that she knew what she was talking about and Ron was being ridiculous. She steadied herself, taking more than her allotted fifteen seconds before she fired the last arrow. It sailed through the air and sank into the marker, just a bit off-center but closer than her previous attempts. It was enough for her though and she turned toward her best friend, giving him a smug look.
"I told you. I can handle it just fine."
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Folding his arms he scowled as he watched her. At least she seemed to be listening to him. Finally. But he winced slightly when she shot and still managed to be somewhat off. So when she turned to look smugly at him he gave her a look. Shaking his head, he moved to pry the bow from her hand and grabbed an arrow. In a matter of seconds he set the arrow and shot-- not bothering to watch as it sailed through the air and hit its mark dead center.
"You took longer and you were still off," he said easily, "even the slightest bit off in a monster's armor and you'll be dead. You've got to see and do. All this theory and perfect stance isn't gonna do you much good when you go slow and still miss."
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.../sneaks this in because augh I would kinda die leaving it hanging overnight...
xgsdgs lmao go to bed or i'll keep tagging you
I diiiid
good girl
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