halfbloodhill_logs | (no subject)

Who: The entire camp + special guests.
What: Wolves have broken through the camp barriers!
When: Late Wednesday January 29 into early morning on January 30
Where: Various camp locations.
Why: Some canines think they can show Camp Half-Blood who's boss.

It starts with a scream.

The evening harpies, better known as camp's alert system for kids who are out past curfew, have some news for everyone, flying through the camp and shrieking through cabin doors to wake everyone up if they're asleep. (Unless, of course, you're untrained and too young or incapable of fighting tonight. Demeter cabin will be your place of refuge.) After the first call to duty, campers have risen to the occasion with their various plans and promises, patrolling the border and building weapons specifically for their new enemies. The Full Moon passed with only a few howls, much to the surprise of many.

No, these wolves have other plans for the New Moon. Aligned with Gaea and followers of Lycaron, they're a group of six renegades looking for a show and perhaps a tasty snack. One of them just so happens to be in the business of fussing with the Mist, undoing someone's hard work to let in her comrades.

They've got bared teeth, blood on their nails, and a penchant for chaos. Camp, it's time to wake up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Callie returns the look Dean gives her, that look trying to decide if this kid even scoped out the situation and if he took the safety off his guns. Not only did the pair have confidence to spare at least in this field of activity, they looked the part to boot. "You sure that's the story you want to go with?"

Callie wasn't discounting the guy completely, flashes in her mind of them both getting shot to death did play out at a few choices hanging in the air. But they mostly stemmed from nerves, and not hostile intentions. At least... that's how she read it, "...What brought you here to keep us safe? This place isn't easy to find, not for mortals."

"No, that's not a story, that's the truth." And it's true. Walt may not be great with the guns, but he knows how to use them if he absolutely has to. He doesn't want to, but well...that's another story entirely.

"We were sent here - we go where the game goes." At least, most hunters do. Walt was sent here because he had a van. Still, he's eyeing them warily, trying to give them his best 'stinkeye'.

"Sent here by who?" he demands, raising the gun again. What the kid says - "go where the game goes" - that could mean anything. Could mean this kid and his friends, because obviously there are more of them, are hunters like Dean, or it could mean they're something worse. Maybe more of Lycaon's wolves, in human form. Maybe some other kind of monster they haven't yet encountered.

"By my dad!" Dean's guns are trained on him, so up Walt's go again, taking a closer aim. "I think he was sent by - by some girl, I don't know. He just wanted me to use my van." He blinks a little - no, really. That's the whole story. "I don't usually hunt wolves! I'm a cryptids kind of guy, swear to God!"

Callie watched the two and though this out. So he was sent here, he seemed well out of his element, but he knew the game enough to think he could protect him. He was into cryptids...

"Like Bigfoot? You're kidding me." She gave Dean a look, "They're like you, hunters. But how did they find the camp?" Callie was working it out in her head. This place was off the map to people who didn't know it was here. Someone had to see through the mists or... be called here and bumrush the barrier.

Fuck.

"No, not like Bigfoot." Walt scoffs a little, rolling his eyes, but he's still not dropping his guns. "Patterson and Gimlin got her way long ago! Like, back in the SIXTIES! I'm after the Jersey Devil- wait. You guys are trying to-"

Oh no. He's said too much. Shit.

"Thanks, but believe it or not, I worked that out for myself." Shocking, he knows. More hunters, here in camp. They must have a touch of clear sight to make it in the business, let alone to find this camp. But even if they had, most mortals can't step inside the boundaries.

'Some girl' let them in. Some girl here in this camp brought them here to help them hunt the wolves. And there's more of them than this kid.

"Wait, Bigfoot is a girl?"

Dean, that is not the thing to focus on here. Focus on the dumb kid with the guns. He gives the guy an incredulous look; if they came here to hunt the wolves, if they were brought here by someone in the camp, they should at least know that most of the kids here don't need protecting.

"I've got two questions for you," he says finally. "One - how many of you are there? And two - you actually think this is a normal summer camp, don't you? Still being held in the middle of winter, for Christ's sake, and you actually think we're all regular kids."

"Wanted to be sure, he's not quite as... capable looking." Callie wanted a way to phrase that which didn't come off as directly calling the kid a wimp. He was still holding a gun, but man did this kid carry none of the same air to him as Dean.

Callie tried to decide where was the best place to look for 'some girl' that could contact hunters. This pretty much eliminated the Romans. None of the legion would do something like this without direct word from Reyna or Jason. The Greek campers were probably, as much as she hated to admit it, not likely to do this either. The full time campers wouldn't have dealings with Hunters, and the part-timers have homes to go to.

Still too many choices to work through, only headaches lay on that road. "Third question, how many of your friends care about collateral damages?"

Dean had shown less than... exact care, about the different types of monsters. That some might not be a threat. Which honestly, before being here, Callie would have agreed with. But he still seemed to her like he wouldn't kill an innocent to get to a monster, nor would this wimp, but if his friends were less... civilized. That could be a problem.