IM/action

[notagraveman]

Hey cool kids! And I suppose not-so-cool kids too, I'm not exactly restricting this message or anything.

Did you know those stuffed shirts up in the Big House won't give a man ambrosia for a head cold? I mean I know, I know, it's "for emergencies" and to keep people from dying and stuff, but I felt like I was dying, so that should count, right? I think it should totally count.

But anyway, I'm feeling totes better now, and that means I need to set my eyes on Christmas. Or whatever y'all call it here. The thing with the gifts. I know I don't know too many of y'all yet - your loss, btw, 'cause I'm totally an awesome guy to know - but y'all can feel free to get me stuff! I like cookies and candies and all that holiday food. Kisses from awesomely attractive people also totally accepted.

Hey, don't think I'm totally selfish though. I ain't got much here, but I was thinking I'm pretty handy with wood and a knife, so if anyone was thinking they might want a present from the totally awesome me, let me know your favorite animal. I suppose I could do monster-types, but hey, I slept through mythology class at school, so I'm still playing catch up. Picture references are love. So yea, let me know. I'll probably be hanging around the Hermes cabin this morning, but I might go out and about once it warms up a bit. Or you can catch me at meals. I'm never late for them!

[OOC: So, since I was totally lame for a few weeks there, Mercutio's been mostly out of action with a lingering head cold. He's a terrible patient, so he's been in bed a lot bemoaning his existence. Fellow Hermes cabin-folk feel free to assume he was annoying as shit.

Either IM or action for this post - Mercutio will be out playing in the snow in the afternoon, if you want to find him there. Otherwise, he's hanging out at the Hermes cabin, tossing snowballs at passers-by]

first complaint ♔ IM / ACTION

[scornfully]

[ All right, so this wasn't exactly how Arthur planned on spending his Christmas break, but with tensions running high between himself and his father he thought it for the best. Probably. ("You're seventeen, Arthur; a mere boy. What could you possibly think you know?") So, at least for the time being, this son of Aphrodite is back ...

And he's not feeling particularly Christmassy. Sorry, gang.]

For Christ's sake ...

[ Because his father's cussing has rubbed off on him despite his own exposure to other gods and goddesses. ]

Is all of this really necessary? Some of us have more than enough garish decor in our cabins all year round.

[ And this is the problem with Arthur Pendragon. He's charismatic and gorgeous, yes - he's a child of Aphrodite, how could he not be - but when he's in a bad mood? He becomes the most impossibly catty grouch. By 'this' he's of course referring to the festive spirit spreading throughout the camp: decorations and such like that he's certain everyone could live without. ]

Anyway. Since it seems I'm back here for the hols ... [ Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. Right now he's the pictorial definition of a First World Problem - Chanel cardigan and all. ] ... Let's all try to be a bit more considerate of those who don't fancy snowball fights and sweets, shall we?

( ooc nonsense! )

IM

[busy]

A raaaiiinbooow.

[Merlin's eyes are wide with exaggerated awe, mouth forming a little 'o' at the end of the word.]

I'm thinking black would be better. Goes with everything. It's slimming.

[Not that this skinny new boy needs slimming. Or anything that makes him paler than he already is. The only spots of color are two bright blue eyes, which are hidden behind a curtain of dark lashes every time he looks down.]

I'm Merlin, Cabin Twenty. I like long walks on the beach, puppies, and body parts preserved in pickle jars.

[He pops something into his mouth, candy or gum, chewing for a few seconds before glancing up again. There's mischief in his eyes, followed by a slow (somewhat shy) smile.]

I'm kidding. I hate the beach. Who needs all that sand between your toes and - David Copperfield.

[Yeah, that made no sense. Blame the sudden distraction that is Final Jeopardy.]

Action

[notworthless]

*You might notice Callie moving around camp with her camera out. Taking photos of cabins, trees, fire pits, the antics of various cabins. All in all just taking photographs. There's no sign she's trying to be covert, and there's no sign her photos are in any way sinister in nature. She isn't trying to steal secrets, or locate faults in the camp security.*

*She looks almost... well, happy isn't really a word used with Callie's demeanor, not often and not without some level of fear she may have done something to be happy. Right now she's getting herself down from a tree that has a good vantage on the tent city atop Cabin One. Apparently her choice move for keeping busy at this moment is her photography hobby.*

*Those that don't fear approaching her, by all means. She might even talk to you.*