Henrietta Abbot

Liam's taunting got the better of Henry; she cast the dagger aside, and it landed with a satisfying thud in the dirt. "Fine," she snapped, "but you asked for it". Even though she knew he was stronger, Henry lunged forward and grabbed his wrist. The sudden movement should provide an adequate distraction, giving her room to knee him in the crotch. Once he was down, she could take charge and hopefully best him. Children of Athena always thought a few steps ahead -- battle strategy was ingrained in them from birth. Unfortunately, Ares children were much the same way, being descendants of the god of war. "I'm not scared of you, Santos." Henry sneered, trying desperately to maintain her grip on his wrist. Sweating and panting in the early afternoon sun, Henry felt her eyeliner melt and run. Liam seemed tired, but less visibly affected by the exertion than her. The girl tried hard to push down the feelings that bubbled to the surface. Liam was good-looking, in a cocky kind of way. You could tell he knew it, and Henry hated that. Shaking her head to dislodge a clump of rogue bleach-blonde hair, she deepened her scowl. Gods, he was so frustrating! "Your dad is gonna be so disappointed in you when I take you down," she grinned, letting her knee make contact between his legs. She had to play dirty, but she was trying desperately not to think dirty. Liam Santos was a bumbling buffoon, her biggest rival. The flush on Henry's face was just from the sun, surely.

Henry couldn't help but glow with pride as her elbow jab made Liam stumble. She held her fists up to protect her face once again, glaring up at him -- he had some inches on her, perhaps even a foot. Henry knew she was small and scrawny, but sometimes that could be an advantage. She just had to figure out this infuriating boy's weak spot. His eyes glimmered a little golden in the sun. Whatever Henry thought, revolted at her wandering mind. He was a big, oafish brick wall that she needed to knock down a little. That was all. Liam's playful boasts only made her more angry: it was as though he wasn't taking her seriously. Without thinking, Henry tugged her knife from the belt loop of her shorts and slashed Liam's hand very slightly. Enough to slow him down. Sure, that was very much against the rules of this combat course, but he was pissing her off. "Prove me wrong? You must be joking, Daddy's boy! As if you have the brain capacity for anything but picking up heavy rocks and shit." Henry didn't like to curse, but she was enraged now. Hoping her delicate appearance didn't undermine the verbal attack, the girl held the knife blade down to the ground, keeping her fists up and her posture completely correct. She never faltered. Except for when she did, which was just about every time Liam Santos smirked down at her. What was this boy's problem?

The genuine compliment that escaped Liam's lips caused Henry to stop in her tracks briefly. "You mean that?" she said breathlessly, forgetting to be playful for a moment. Catching herself, she quickly added, "Not so bad yourself, Santos" in order to distance herself from that moment of vulnerability. It suddenly occurred to her how much she valued Liam's opinion, and that scared her. Why did it feel so good to hear him say those words? Independent, feisty Henrietta Abbot wasn't supposed to care about that stuff! Her thoughts stopped whirling as soon as their lips reconnected, though. The world around them stilled, everything fading to silence. Shouts from the grounds and the mess hall disappeared. It was just Henry and Liam, shirtless by the shore of the lake, exploring the possibilities. "In this lighting your eyes look kind of... golden." Henry remarked, blushing a little. Her wide eyes looked up at him, sparkling with curiosity and excitement. It could be that the adrenaline was bringing out some Ares passion in him, but Liam seemed to be glowing. Henry was so attracted to him in that moment she couldn't even think of any smart remarks to taunt him. Her hands wandered over the boy's body, coming to rest at his waistband. She slipped her cold fingers just enough underneath to cause his body to stir slightly. "Those drachmae are so mine," she grinned, her eyes silently challenging him.

Never before had Henry been called a princess -- never had she acted like one. The nickname made her face flush, so much so she was grateful he couldn't see. She stayed locked in Liam's kiss for a long time, letting out small hums of pleasure every once in a while. She didn't want to tell him he was an incredible kisser, but she couldn't help it. At this point, she was bucking her hips against him slightly. The movements were subconscious, her mind heavy and immediate with the feeling of his lips against hers. She responded to his touch by intensifying her own, grabbing his shoulders with mild desperation. Was this really Liam Santos? Her greatest foe? She could hardly believe what was happening, and how quickly it had all unfolded. "You're lucky I hand your ass to you in training, Santos. Got that stamina of yours way up," Henry grinned wickedly, pulling away enough to tug the band shirt she was wearing over her head. The evening air hit her slight body, adding a new contradiction to the list: heat and cold. Her nipples poked through the thin fabric of her bralette, and she couldn't help but smile and bite her lip as she noticed Liam's eyes flicker down. "What? It's fucking freezing out here." Henry may have been a virgin (not that anyone knew), but she was anything but timid.

The kiss surprised Henry, but not as much as the gentle tones in Liam's voice and movement. He spoke teasingly, but not cruelly. Henry felt safe, somehow, pinned beneath this boy. This boy whom she had hated seemingly on site, and spent forever trying to put in his place. Maybe it was now that his place was finally realised: holding Henry in a fiery, passionate kiss. She felt her hands move over his back, as though independent of her. She pushed her lips against his and let her tongue nudge his, smiling against him. The desire she felt couldn't be ignored anymore, and she pulled away just a little. "I don't know Santos... that towel of yours slipped a little. Can't say I'm intimidated," she drawled, her eyes flitting down to indicate the 'appendage' she spoke of. This was a complete lie, of course, meant only to ruffle his feathers. The contrast between enemy and lover, between tenderness and lust had her heart beating faster than ever before. It was a feeling similar to the height of battle, but even more intoxicating. Liam was intoxicating. She teased him only to drive him as wild as he did her; only to get him to lose control completely. "15 drachmae say I'll win this round," she added huskily, leaning back in to reconnect their lips.

"Anything you can give, I can take," growled Henry, with a slight breathlessness. "Or did you forget who was winning a minute ago?" Something had shifted, and she wanted Liam badly. Carnally. She wasn't one to back down though, and however much she wanted this, she wouldn't make it easy for him. She felt the hairs on her arms pick up at his touch; it was a gentle motion but charged with such electric tension that her breath caught slightly. Her body stirred as he grabbed her face, in a way she had seldom felt before. Who knew Liam Santos could ever have this effect on her? Though, that game of truth or dare... the iris message she sent? Maybe it wasn't as insincere as she had thought. Henry tilted her chin up and regarded Liam with a fierce look, like a challenge. "Turn me good? Obedient? I'd like to see you try." She retorted, letting out a little snort of laughter at the thought. She knew all the buttons to push, and doing so only made her more excited.

Liam's sensual words surprised Henry, but she refused to show it in her face. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it made something inside her falter. Just a little bit. Henry's sword had fallen out of her range. She was, essentially, at his mercy. It shouldn't excite her, and yet... Regaining her resolve, Henry furrowed her brows into a stubborn scowl. She was panting slightly from the exerted effort of the spar, feeling a bit too conscious of Liam's bare chest parallel to hers. "Make me, Daddy's boy." The response came from her lips before she even registered its meaning. Still, she scowled up at him defiantly: her greatest enemy, a boy she despised. So what she'd had deviant thoughts about him before? They were intrusive, and he disgusted her. That's what she told herself, anyway. Really, he was worthy opponent, possibly the only person at camp that had ever bested her. In this new battle, would he best her again?

Henry let out a bark of laughter; she should be used to Tempest's antics by now, since they'd been close since she first arrived at camp. Like her namesake though, the girl was unpredictable and quick-witted. Henry admired her deeply for that, though she'd never admit it. "I knew that personal invite wasn't wasted on you, Tem!" she said with a knowing, slightly wicked, smile. Tempest was the first person Henry told about the game she was hosting: however many enemies she had, that notorious troublemaker was an absolute must-have on any guest list. Henry felt lucky to be so thoroughly on Tempest's good side. Curiously, Henry's bleach-blonde head bobbed slightly to look past Tempest towards Celeste. What would she do? Not only was the dare humiliating, it could get her in serious trouble. Hermes kids were sneaky, yeah, but not invisible. "Say you want to braid his tail under the moonlight," grinned Henry.

Eyes widening slightly as Liam countered her move, Henry stumbled. It was a nearly imperceptible movement, just a slight shift forward in her weight; to a daughter of Athena, though? It had the sting of complete failure. "Why you--" the hot-head cut herself off by ducking under his muscular arm, scowling so deeply her line of sight suffered for it. She quickly calculated that agility was the only way she could triumph. Liam was obviously stronger than her. Her mind was rushing with adrenaline and rage. Elbows are among the strongest joints in the body, she recalled to herself. Biology in elementary school, you were helpful after all. Henry twirled around and delivered a blow to Liam's abdomen; she was sure she made contact because his rib caught her funny bone. Suspecting she had hurt herself more than her opponent, Henry winced off the pain silently and repositioned. "I'm not a know-it-all. I just look that way in comparison to you!" she snapped, furious at the heat she felt in her cheeks. She couldn't let this big oaf get the better of her, but she was obviously disadvantaged: a simultaneous battle of wits seemed the only way to keep her pride in tact.

Henrietta Abbot didn't quite know how she got there; all she wanted to do was hang out with her friend Tempest. The Nemesis cabin had been a familiar haunt of hers since her first day at Camp Half Blood, when Tempest took her in. Ever since that day, she could often be found in the older girl's room, swinging on the hammock and talking crap. But today, somehow, she'd caught the eye of Mila Rogers, another daughter of Nemesis. Before she could even say goodbye to Tempest -- Henry was whisked away. In Mila's room, Henry was having her precious eyeliner scrubbed off and being threatened with a "makeover". Sure, the fishnets and combat boots weren't everyone's cup of tea, but really? Was it so bad that it required immediate attention? "Ow! What the hell?" Henry snapped, jerking away from Mila's hand. The girl had poked her in the eye attempting to clean off the black makeup. "You're taking my gods-forsaken skin off here! What's with this makeover anyway? This is some rom-com bullshit..." The two girls had never said much more than a few words to each other before. Mila was very beautiful, and decidedly more sunshine-y than a lot of other Nemesis kids. No wonder grungey, sharp-tongued Henry didn't cross paths with this girl much... until now, that is. @ Mila Rogers

Henry gazed up at her new partner in crime; it was true, the younger girl's hot-headedness had caused problems in the past. To meet someone like Tempest, who respected it and viewed it as an asset? Now, that was a feeling she could get used to. Sitting at the desk as though this room was her own, Henry tapped her chin in thought, pondering the new rule she'd learned. There was a flicker of a shadow drawn across Tempest's face, just for a split second. Henry was intrigued, but didn't push it: maybe optimistically, she felt that the many complexities of Tempest Truett would reveal themselves to her in time. It could take years, sure, but Henry has a stretch of summers in front of her that felt infinite. To spend them by the side of her new mentor and only friend? There were definitely worse fates. The eye contact Tempest engaged Henry in flooded the girl's chest with pride and hope. Trust. The unshakeable foundations of any good friendship: she was obviously justified in her optimism, then. Resisting the urge to tease Tempest for her sincerity, Henry crossed her arms and craned her neck to look out of the window. "Well, would you look at that? Pretty boring day out there... how about you give me a demonstration in trouble?" Henry grinned wickedly.

"Hermes boy? Yuck, that is humiliating." A little bit of Henry's age shone through with her reaction; at 13, the mask of being cool and mature sometimes still slipped. Deep down, the girl still had some fear of cooties left. While she wasn't too vindictive herself, Henry understood and sympathised with Tempest's reaction to the prank. There was nothing worse than being humiliated, especially in a way like this; behaving uncharacteristically and damaging your dignity and reputation? Henry felt nearly as angry about it as Tempest seemed to. The thing about protective big sister dynamics is they go the opposite way too: already Henry didn't like to think about anyone disrespecting Tempest. This she decided to keep to herself, though. There was something about the older girl's tone in reference to the other photo that gave Henry pause. As cool and calculated as Tempest seemed, Henry couldn't help but wonder what betrayal this boy had put her through... and what relationship they'd had beforehand. Knowing better than to push it, Henry let the moment of vulnerability go by without comment -- one of the few times she'd held her tongue for someone else's benefit. "Some survival tricks would be nice." Henry slumped dramatically against the wall, as though punctuating the sentence with a sturdy period. "This place seems to be full of complete idiots. I have a bad track record with idiots." She grimaced, a string of memories coming to mind. Many a fight with mortals, a few suspensions, etc. Life was tough for a hot-headed independent, and Henry was sure Tempest would understand that particular struggle.

"It's creepy as hell. I like that." Henry said. The exterior of the Nemesis cabin was stark, black, and deeply intimidating. It seemed like the kind of building where vampires might commune and feast. It had an elegance, a sophistication about it that set it apart from the other cabins around it. She glanced bitterly between it and the Hermes cabin, where she had to live until her mum claimed her. So unfair. Henry laughed at the teenagers, pushing half-heartedly against Tempest's fingers, curious but disgusted. So this is what camp was like -- just an outdoor high school. That was comforting, in a way. When Tempest allowed Henry her vision back, they were in a bedroom. Bedroom, that is, in a loose sense; it was a hammock-room, really. It was lived-in, in a way that you could tell it was a sanctuary. Through the window came the golden light of late afternoon, making the iridescent dust particles dance in the air. At first glance, it was lovely. A typical teenage girl's room. Henry's eyes wandered, though, and she was met with some alarming decor choices. Nothing that really bothered her, though: Nemesis was the goddess of justice, right? So, Henry deduced, these people probably deserved whatever Tempest had in store for them. Picking up a dart that lay on the desk, Henry launched it into the photo on the wall with a precision she completely lacked in archery. "Why do we hate them?" She asked Tempest, immediately siding with her new camp counsellor. "Is it those nymphos down the hall?"

Henry grimaced at the question. "You know, emotionally neglectful dad, no friends, etc etc. Boring, predictable. Nobody ever... liked me that much. I guess." Henry was generally extremely guarded, so her own sincerity surprised her. It had been a long, emotional journey to camp. The road trip, and the whole life that preceded it. Despite Tempest's warnings, Henry really did trust her. "I've been called a bitch at school since I was about six years old. Guess I rub people the wrong way. I don't care, though," she added hastily. "Everyone I've ever met has been a disappointing, bumbling idiot. Present company included." Henry grinned at Tempest to show she was joking. "I'd ask you the same question, but I bet you'd bruise my good eye shut too if I dared." The pair of them were getting strange looks; Henry didn't know if it was the black eye, the goth look she sported, or simply her familiarity with camp menace Tempest Truett. Maybe all three. The Hermes cabin was so cramped and foul, Henry knew Tempest's -- no matter how hardcore the decor -- would sparkle in comparison. "I'd thank you for inviting me to your humble abode, but I don't think anything about you is humble." Henry elbowed Tempest in the ribs playfully. Well, slightly below the ribs. She was short, after all.

Henry blushed at the mention of the Aphrodite campers; she had met very few, but already it seemed she was particularly vulnerable to their charms. She figured it was because she was an artist -- who's more drunk on beauty than the people who try to capture it? Surprisingly, Henry was a romantic in her own right, too. This was a fact she always kept to herself, especially now in front of Tempest. She didn't want to admit to any weaknesses with her new role model around. At Tempest's burst of protective spirit, Henry lowered her bow and looked over her shoulder at the girl. "Everyone said you were trouble, but you're a softie really." she grinned teasingly. After slinging another few arrows -- each landing on the peripherals of the target -- Henry shook her head in defeat. "Guess I better stick to hand-to-hand for now. Give those monsters the old one-two or whatever." The girl had been something of a vigilante at her previous mortal schools; she wouldn't hesitate to throw punches when she saw vulnerable kids getting bullied. Generally it was her who got suspended over it, though. Something made her suspect that Tempest was the same, even if she tried to hide it. "I don't suppose you could show me your cabin?" Henry chanced.

Henry gave Liam a disgusted look, wrinkling her nose as the boy spat on the ground before her. "We're demigods, not Neanderthals," snapped the girl. Something about this boy was so wildly irritating: she was buzzing with fury and he'd barely spoken. Yes, you could attribute that to his Ares heritage -- the god of war definitely had that effect on people -- but Henry had met Ares campers before. She disliked all of them, but none so much as Liam Santos. "I could take you on in my sleep, asshole!" Henry hated being called little girl by this brute. It was true though; from afar, they must have looked nothing short of comical. Scrawny, petite Henry and broad-shouldered, buff Liam, squaring up to one another like lions. Swiftly, she ducked swiftly around his side and swept her leg against the back of his knees. Classic Athena move. "You're not Ares's gift to humanity, you know. You're just a walking steroid."

After a lifetime of independence, being guided gently by Tempest made Henry's whole body stiffen. She imagined this is what having a big sister felt like, and quickly became more comfortable. There are just some people whose approval means more, and Tempest was definitely one of those people. Henry knew the girl had a somewhat bad reputation, being fond of trouble-making and a bit prickly with other campers. So being taken under her wing so thoroughly and quickly? Henry was glowing with pride, so much so that she was sure the older gir could tell. Confidence renewed by Tempest's careful instruction, Henry released an arrow. It hit the outside ring of the target. Not perfect, but definitely progress! Immediately notching another arrow, she ventured to ask about camp. "So, is there anything I need to know for surviving this place? Any top dog I need to fight to gain respect or something?" Maybe Henry had watched too many prison movies...

Utterly enchanted by Tempest's show of archery prowess, Henry couldn't help staring. Being a 13-year-old, she made up for her lack of experience in weaponry with a deep fascination. The second shot colliding with a distant cabin made Henry let out a genuine bark of laughter, the first in a long time. The journey to Camp had been scary and tiresome, and the threats she had faced along the way even more so. While Camp still felt alien and unwelcoming, there were aspects of it that beckoned Henry; the scenery, the protection, and Tempest. "Who knows? Maybe we're sisters." "The cabins are all bullseyes as far as I'm concerned," grinned Henry, taking up a bow and arrow from the basket at the start of the firing range. She didn't like to admit her inexperience, but she had never held a bow before. Determined to appear competent, Henry copied Tempest's posture and loosed an arrow. It missed the target entirely, dropping to the grass feet before the target. "Fuck," she muttered, blushing red at her failure.

Henry shuffled uncomfortably as Tempest decried the gods. She had to admit, the girl made some excellent points; Henry had trouble respecting her mum, whoever she was. If the gods were so powerful, why let your own daughter be slammed into a tree by a raging cyclops? Or chased down a school hallway by a hellhound? At the end of Tempest's rant, Henry nodded sharply up at the girl to show she understood. The archery range was still and beautiful, overlooking a view of mountains and water that made Henry feel at home. The camp's strawberry fields made everything smell sweet and fresh, like childhood summers. It was intoxicating. And, even better, it was calm. Tempest had understood exactly what she needed, without her saying a word. When the girl spoke, Henry was touched. It was clearly something she would prefer to keep close to her chest. "Nemesis, goddess of retribution," she said thoughtfully. "I don't know, sounds badass to me. Putting arrogant people in their places? It suits you." Henry gave her new friend a sincere smile, to show she didn't judge her. "I hope I get claimed," she added gloomily. "Living with the Hermes kids forever would kill. Their cabin stinks of Lynx body spray, I'm still riding that migraine."

Henry liked the nickname, judging it to be a sign of respect more than a patronising dig; 'cub', as in little but fierce. Young but promising. There were certainly worse things to be, and Henry imagined Tempest to be particularly difficult to impress. Having her hair ruffled by this older girl, Henry grinned. The gesture was familiar and nonchalant, like that of an older sister in a Disney Channel show -- cool, nonchalant affection. This Tempest was shaping up to be her first (human) friend in a long while. "I'm always game." Henry grinned, shaking her head rapidly to settle her hair back into its natural place. "But before I let you take me to a secondary location, I have to know. Who's your godly parent?" Asking the question made Henry a bit uncomfortable; she was yet to understand the etiquette of this new world, and as soon as the words left her mouth she feared that she's made some terrible social faux-pas. It wouldn't have been the first time. Well, if there's anyone to put me in my place... Tempest seems a safe bet.

Something about Tempest's tone shifting made Henry correct her posture, a hint of pride to the action. This girl's approval was addictive -- now she realised how dangerous Tempest really was. Henry didn't know much about the gods just yet, so she couldn't exactly determine who Tempest could be the offspring of... some sort of social experiment sent by Aphrodite to freak people out? She had the confidence, charm, and appearance, but that just didn't seem right. At Tempest's questioning, Henry raised a finger to her swollen eye, almost subconsciously. "You should've seen the other guy... I didn't do anything to him, he was just ugly as sin." She didn't wait to see if the joke landed before adding "Cyclops attack on the way here. I'll be fine." Craning her neck to look around the vast expanse of camp, Henry's eyebrows knitted together. Campers, creatures, strawberry fields, obstacle courses. The sound of clashing metal, like swords hitting one another. Growing up in sleepy Ohio, this was overwhelming. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed to be taken under someone's wing. ASAP.

Henry, having just suffered a cyclops attack, was surveying her new world through slightly swollen eyes. Soon the left one would bruise to a muted shade of purple, and her reputation around this place would be permanently tainted mauve. Despite her battle wounds, Henry did her best to appear confident and aloof. In reality, her world has just been turned upside down and shaken like a snow globe. She craved a nice, cosy bed and some solitude. From the looks of the cabin she had been assigned -- Hermes, until she was claimed -- she was out of luck on both accounts. Spoken to by a beautiful, seemingly calculated girl, Henry's face went from sour to sourer. This had to be Tempest Truett, a camper her half-goat friend Magnus had specifically warned her about. "Of course I'm lost," she snapped impatiently, refusing to be intimidated. "I arrived fifteen minutes ago." Draped over Henry's arm was an orange shirt emblazoned with the Camp Half Blood crest. In contrast, the skinny 13-year-old wore an outfit fit for a 90s grunge band. Already she felt unwelcome, and this girl wasn't helping. "If you're just gonna smirk at me, get lost yourself."

Henry smirked upon Gael's entrance into the game. Things were only getting more interesting. She glanced at Sage, to see her flushing bright red. To her surprise, the same could be said for sweet Petal Price. Henry couldn't place why, but that troubled her; Gael was the son of Phobos, god of fear and panic. Even dyslexic Henry knew what that spelled: trouble, with a capital 'T'. She would never let her sister or her friend get hurt. Lighting up another cigarette for Miro, Henry distracted herself from her anxiety by engrossing herself in the most recent dare: bold Alyssa had to embarrass herself in front of the group by confessing her love to somebody. Henry passed the cigarette to Miro and said "You owe me for these, pretty boy. I had to flash a Hermes boy to smuggle them in for me."

Henry was enjoying the summer courses; as any child of Athena would agree, a lot of the fun CHB offers is in the competitions and training sessions. Goddess of war tactics, Henry's mum blessed her with a natural knack for fighting. And that was the aim of the game today: hand-to-hand combat. While she preferred to wield a weapon, Henry never had any trouble getting her knuckles bloody. She'd gotten into a far few fights during her time in mortal schools... lots of timid, bullied kids that needed protecting. One thing she didn't like about summer courses, though, was when they were randomly paired. As it was, Henry had few friends and even fewer confidants. She wouldn't suffer fools or tolerate idiots. So, when she was assigned Liam as a partner, safe to say she was pissed. He was a big, brutish Ares boy whom Henry hated as soon as she first saw him; a fool and an idiot through and through. "I am gonna have so much fun handing your ass to you, Daddy's boy." Henry scowled, her fists rising to block her nose from attack. Ares children always played dirty. @ Liam Santos

Henry smiled a little as the girl sat beside her. She was an excitable little thing, endearing in a way Henry was usually able to resist. Something about Becca was instantly likeable. "Nice to meet you Becca. I'm Henry. You're a child of Apollo, yeah?" Henry sat back to admire the bust before leaning back in, carving the cheekbone to be slightly more apparent. "As for him..." Henry gestured towards her sculpture, "it's probably nobody. Us artists just need a muse, right?" "If you wanna learn to sculpt, I'd be happy to teach you. Clay or marble, I'm your girl." Henry blew the marble dust, scattering it into a shaft of light coming in from a window. It glittered a little in the sunlight. Sunlight that was dictated by Becca's dad himself. No wonder the Apollo kids were natural poets; beauty came easily to them.