halfbloodhill_logs | (no subject)

Who: Everyone at camp.
What: Apollo's sacred day.
Where: The ampitheater.
When: August 7, 8:30 PM.
Why: Apollo's at camp today, and as the god of music, he's holding a dance.

It was decided at the meeting of the summer gods, the Summer Solstice, but it took Apollo physically coming to the Big House and scolding Mr. D for being lazy and not putting up any fliers to actually get the god of wine to do it, a week in advance.

Apollo prides himself on being the god of just about everything - though Mr. D would say, out of the cocky god's earshot, that he's the god of everything nobody else wanted to be the god of. Because of this, he's always had a self-assured attitude which is sometimes hard to deal with.

Because of this, when he decided he was going to throw a dance for the demigods towards the end of the summer as a reward for accepting children of other pantheons into their Greek camp so well, most of the other gods decided to just let him have it rather than argue. (Considering that Hera and Zeus had gotten into three separate spats since the Solstice began, they'd all had enough godly screaming for one meeting.)

So at about 8:30 on the nose - since he's used to following a tight schedule on the sun chariot and he's excited about this, he'll be on time - a flaming, bright red Maserati drives up to the ampitheater. Apollo doesn't even have to lift a finger for the trunk to open, and speakers as well as state of the art DJ equipment rise up onto a platform. He waves his hand, and club music with a thumping bassline starts playing.

(Never say that Apollo doesn't like to make an entrance.)

Requests will be taken all night by Apollo, who will be manning the dj booth as well as making up freestyle haikus. He's one of the more amicable gods, especially to his kids, which he's hosted more of at Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter combined than any other god. He's charming and younger looking than most gods, with a cocky smile and sandy hair.
If you're a pretty girl, he might hit on you.

(Apologies in advance. He'd say old habits die hard because he's right. Sorry, Hunters of Artemis.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Please, never call him hot again.

[It's really unnerving for him.

The once-over also makes him shift, a bit unsure how to react.]

I... Thank you? I think...

[He really hoped "you certainly take after him" didn't mean that people ogled at him too.]

You look nice yourself.

I won't to your face. [Look! Compromise! Baby steps, Eponine! She laughs, her eyes shutting.]

You're welcome. And thank you. [She means it, looking at him and beaming a real smile for once in her life that isn't even mischievous or anything. It's genuinely appreciative.] Courf spent hours on me. So you should really be thanking him. But hey, I clean up nice, don't I?

That's all I ask.

[A dry response, but at least it's a compromise.

Plus he's not sure he's ever seen Eponine actually smile before. Enjolras wishes she would smile more often, something he also wishes in regards to Natalie.]

You do, I actually didn't recognize you at first. [A small chuckle.] It seems like we both went to Courfeyrac for help.

You... didn't? [This is a fact that actually has her lose her composure, if only for a moment.] Wow. Is it the dress? Or the shoes- I'm tall for once.

[Or the relatively lighter eye-makeup, the tamed and styled hair. I mean, okay, the alcohol on her breath gives her away, but what could you do about that? Other than force her to seek treatment for alcohol abuse. But she'd just jump off the wagon at the first chance she had. Besides, it's not like she got drunk as fast as a normal human.]

What do you know. [Her response is dry as well. Awesome conversation topics.] But I figured you had that suit tucked away in your closet somewhere. This is your dad's shindig, after all.

I think it's more you don't look as though you've taken charcoal to your eyes.

[He can smell the alcohol on her breath, and barely manages to keep from commenting. Though he does have to slip his hands into his pockets to hide the way they clench involuntarily.

He hates alcohol. Hates how it poisons people, traps them. Hates how it kills.

But he also knows that this friendship is still very fragile, and tonight Eponine looks happy. So he'll ignore it.]

I did have a suit from when I first arrived, but I out grew it.

[It was the suit he wore to his mother's funeral. Safe to say even if it did fit it wouldn't be worn.]

Yes, and I'm waiting for him to somehow involve all of us. Do you think it would be wrong to run if he does?

Nah. They still are on there. It's just... lighter.

[It's not a friendship, not according to her. It's a tolerance. But it could be a friendship. Maybe. If she worked at it. Then again, somehow she became friends with Courfeyrac and Jehan and Gabriel, so who knew.

She nods, pursing her lips slightly.] I think so. Generally when my dad tries to involve me in something, running is the worst possible thing to do. [Which father, she doesn't specify.]

[He doesn't like the implication of that either, regardless of which father she means.]

I'll have to think of another way to avoid him then.

[How he's going to do that is a mystery. Apollo is a persistent god.]

So do you plan to spend this entire evening trying to flirt with my father?

[And New Girl's father and Charlie's father? She takes a step towards him, turning her body so that it is angled in his direction, smirking as she plays with a curl.] Maybe... Maybe not.

[She raises her eyebrows at him.]

You are insufferable sometimes, have I mentioned that yet today?

[He rolls his eyes, but in a good-natured fashion.]

Not today, no. [She gives him a look.]

I'm sure I could be persuaded to stop making eyes at your dad...