halfbloodhillooc | THE SECOND HBH TEST DRIVE MEME!

To say that Grantaire is a fighter would be completely incorrect - but he'd been warned about monsters, been scolded to take things more seriously, and he had a light afternoon - it was a good time to at least try to get some practice in, even if he'd most likely just end up messing around instead.

He has a staff, which doesn't seem like a particularly great weapon without a background in martial arts, but Grantaire can't say he trusts himself with any kind of blade, even if he has been forced into unhappy sobriety since coming here.

He keeps to himself, off in a corner - there's a training dummy, but it's not exactly hard to hit an unmoving target with what is essentially a giant stick, and he loses interest fast enough, ending up sitting on the ground, leaned far back against the dummy, a book folded open in one hand, legs crossed.

He's not training anymore.

[Prouvaire honestly doesn't spend much ttime in the arena, as he's a more traditional Apollo child. He's skilled with the bow and arrow, and he enjoys learning to fire ranged weaponry - he's been working with a sort of Celestial bronze blunderbuss that he'd found in the armory one day as of late. But he's watched Grantaire long enough to know that neither of them really belongs in the arena - but for different reasons entirely.]

It would appear that neither of us are having much luck here today.

[He gives Grantaire a sheepish little smile.]

[Grantaire glances up from his book, then sits up straighter, brushing his shirt off self-consciously. One thing he can say about this place is that the people here are much more friendly than they were in his other, more typical schooling. He does his best to smile, despite feeling a bit dazed (courtesy of his mind-altering ability, and using it a bit too liberally on himself).]

I'd just leave, but I'm pretty comfortable. You know, I never see anybody relax in here. It's a shame. Ground's surprisingly soft.

That...that is quite surprising, though I can only assume it's for the safety of the joints of combatants. It's...well, you'll have to excuse me for being forward, but I don't think the terrain we encounter in the mortal world will be that way!

[He realizes he's gone on a tiny tirade - well, a tirade for him, anyway, and goes red, shaking his head.]

Excuse me, I didn't mean to push my opinion - how are you adjusting, Grantaire?

[Grantaire somehow manages not to laugh, only because he's aware enough to realize Jehan might misunderstand and think he was laughing at him. There is a grin, though. ...Okay, maybe a small snicker.]

I wouldn't call that an "opinion", per se - probably just fact. I don't think I'd lay down and take a break in the middle of a fight! [He pauses and reconsiders that. That might depend on how long the fight was. No need to share that with anybody.] Anyway-- this place isn't so bad. At least it's interesting.

[Jehan's not really sure if Grantaire's actually teasing him or not, but the other boy has been known to do such things, and he is a sensitive sort. He looks down at his feet, shifting from side to side.]

I-I should hope not, I didn't mean that you would do such a thing - I'm very sorry. Either way, I-It's good to see you're enjoying yourself! The camp is much more relaxing during peacetime.

[He finally stands, tucking the book under his arm and trying to brush off his pants without dropping it. Once satisfied with that, he waves his free hand, brushing off the apology.]

No need to say "sorry", Jehan! I don't think anyone should be sorry to me. [Did that make sense? He thinks it did. God, English isn't his strong suit.] I don't mind all the training and running around. What about you? Do you like it here?

[Now that he's been absolved, to a point, he regains the courage to look Grantaire in the eye.]

Oh, but...well, I-I'll try not to in the future.

[Then, he realizes what Grantaire's problem is, and pauses for a second before switching to French. Hopefully, that'll make it a little easier on the other boy.]

I enjoy it much more this year than last. The beauty of the entire camp is astounding...and I don't think I was able to appreciate it when the camp was last in session because of the preparations for the Battle.

[Grantaire's a little surprised when Jehan switches languages - and a little, little bit jealous at the other boy's adeptness at both. Still, the relief mostly overwhelms that.]

You enjoy it more because I'm here, right? [He laughs, bending to retrieve the staff. The least he can do is clean up after himself and avoid a long lecture later.] I'm relatively fun. [There's a pause and he quickly adds,] it is nice here, though. Especially if you like strawberries.

I do! You've quite a bright smile, Grantaire. It's wondrous to see someone who takes life one day at a time and doesn't stress.

[He reaches over and straightens out the training dummy, even brushing him off a little. Enjolras tended to notice these sorts of things, especially when something was out of place and one of his brothers or sisters didn't stand to fix it up. The gods could be vengeful, after all.]

They are quite delicious, though I've been told that when I spend too much time in the fields, I tend to get lost in them...

Natalie suddenly appears.

Literally. As a daughter of Hecate, she likes to practice travelling shrouded by shadows, building her stamina so she can sustain her control when the moment calls for it. The shadows fall away from her in a grey mist and it looks like she's just come from the archery range.

She had been hoping to find Enjolras here since she needed to ask him a question, but instead finds someone else sitting in a corner of the arena. Reading. Natalie snorts.

"Mrs. O'Leary's been here," she says of Percy's hellhound, "sitting around probably wouldn't be the, uh, wisest choice."

Grantaire almost jumps, but really, he's too dazed from his own mind-bending abilities to be aware enough to do so. Instead, he focuses his gaze on girl in front of him, slowly lowering the book.

"I got distracted," he says, jovially, then gestures to the staff he'd abandoned a few feet away. "I was training." Sort of.

As if realizing suddenly where she'd come from (or rather, where she hadn't - Grantaire hadn't heard footsteps at all, and Natalie seemed to have just appeared), he sits up straighter, mentally sizing her up. "That's an interesting trick you have there."

"That? Uh. Nothing special," she yawns with a nonchalant roll of her shoulders. Creating illusions tends to drain some energy from her. The statement isn't lost on her, however, as impressing people tends to brighten her normally dark demeanor considerably.

"Just don't let an Ares kid find you reading in here," Natalie continues with a tiny chuckle, "you probably wouldn't hear the end of it."

He sighs. That's true enough. "Maybe I should head back. I don't think I'm making a lot of progress with the staff today, anyway." Not that he's really even trying. He's had a book in his hands longer than he'd been messing with the staff.

"An Ares kid," he mulls over the words, then adds, "or Enjolras," with a sort of chuckle. "God forbid anybody take things less than two hundred percent seriously in front of him." It strikes him suddenly what an incorrect phrase "god forbid" is, and he wonders if he should correct himself, but ultimately decides not to bother. Ah well.

At the mention of Enjolras, Natalie snorts and fold her arms over her orange camp shirt, pulling her shoulders up to her ears. After the battle, she was surprised to find that she had come to regard Enjolras as a sort of brotherly figure and that she often sought out his advice. And while they are both serious people, she smiled often with him.

"Yeah, but I guess I would rather face his intensity than dealing with someone totally belligerent," Natalie points out.

"I couldn't agree more," Grantaire replies. It's not surprising to hear that Enjolras' reputation is well-established. He drops the book into his lap and stretches, raising arms over his head, letting out a satisfied noise.

"Did you come to do a little training yourself?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Or just to warn layabouts like me?"

"I actually came to find him, but whatever. I'll ask him something later at dinner."

The matters aren't pressing anyway, she mostly wants to ask for his opinion on what size bow she should use now that her arms were stronger. "You wanna lay about, you lay about," Natalie adds. She's heard a thing or do about him anyway, though she doesn't really hang around Dionysus kids often. "Grantaire, right?"

"Careful, you're enabling me." He grins, though, and picks himself up, coming to a stand. At his name, he nods, suddenly offering a hand. "That's right. ...Don't tell me you've heard about me. I... don't think I know your name, though." That was a little embarrassing, but he made sure not to show that on his face.

Natalie juts her hand out to shake his firmly, offering a crooked grin along with it.

"I know of some of the guys Enjolras hangs out with, anyway," she replies, pursing her lips, "like, just a few things here and there. I'm Natalie Goodman, Hectate kid, as if appearing out of the shadows didn't make that obvious."

"I appreciate stating of the obvious," he says, still smiling. "I'm kind of still learning all this stuff." Grantaire isn't sure if he's allowed to be called one of the "guys Enjolras hangs out with", and finds himself a little amused at the title. "Truthfully, I think I hang out with him, not the other way around."

But that was enough talk about Enjolras. Right.

"Nice to meet you, Natalie. You're American, aren't you?"

"Well, however you want to put it -- yeah, I'm American, born and raised. Uh, here by way of Seattle. Year rounder and all of that," she ticks off the usual facts on her fingers, wondering if there are any other necessary facts, "Screwy childhood, sort of piano prodigy, etcetera. Surprisingly not the only one here to play around with shadows and stuff."

She nods her head to the side as if to say, 'Sums that up. You?' But only if he cares to offer any information. There are some people around here who are pretty secretive about their background.

Grantaire doesn't have inhibitions with sharing any information, be it personal or a "quirky fact" he only drunkenly half-remembers from a text book or TV commercial. "Also screwy childhood, but let's not have a competition; not particularly good at anything; from Paris, but believe me, it's not even half as romantic as you might think it is..." He trails off, thinking. How does one talk about themselves, again? He can ramble about pretty much anything else. "Actually, on that topic, did you know-- there are actually special therapists for tourists in Paris to help them cope with the realization when they arrive that Paris is just like every other crappy big city on the planet? We just have a big metal tower in ours." He laughs - apparently, this fact is extremely amusing to him.

"...Er, but, that's beside the point... if there's a piano around here, I can't say I would appreciate proof of this talent of yours." Why not? Grantaire's used to wandering around a huge city and finding its secrets - being cooped up in a camp is starting to make him go a little stir-crazy. Any new amusement is worth his time.

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clearasil - 2013-05-28 04:39 (UTC) - Expand

You are aware this is a place to train not read?

[It's safe to say that Enjolras didn't actually notice him training in the corner earlier. But he's noticed him now, standing in front of where he's sitting, a frown on his face. There's a good chance that he would have crossed his arms, except that he's holding a sword in one of them which would probably end badly if he tried.]

[Grantaire already knows that voice, but he looks over the top of his book as if to see who's speaking anyway. With a small smile, Grantaire pointedly goes back to reading, although he can't say he's absorbing the words on the page.]

The sign outside does say "Training Arena". Although I don't see why we can't amend it with "and Reading Room". Then the arena could be twice as useful.

[Enjolras can't help the irritation that begins to seep through him at the smile and then the blatant disregard to what he'd just told Grantaire. He has half the mind to snatch the book away, but that would be childish so he refrains.]

Yes, it does say "Training Arena", as in people come here to prepare themselves for the battles they'll have to face on quests or God forbid another war. There are better places to read.

THE SECOND HBH TEST DRIVE MEME!

Bastien(?) Grantaire (Les Miserablés), son of Dionysus, I think.

Jehan here is a son of Apollo.

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except I don't speak French so I'll continue to write it in English??

phew yeah i don't at all speak french either!

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Hey there!! Another son of Apollo here

skafhjash hello! how fitting for him

XD I thought so. Also sdoighdsiohg so happy to see an R ;;