Beneath the Eye of the Storm

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest Truett, all of sixteen and undeniably a force to reckon with, leaned against a gnarled old tree near the edge of Camp Half-Blood. Her intense, calculating eyes observed the newest arrival, a scrawny thirteen-year-old whose appearance was a stark contrast to the imposing aura the camp usually held. She wasn't impressed, not that she ever was, but she was interested. That's all it took for Tempest - a spark of curiosity. A kid fresh off the streets could mean a fun new toy to play with, someone naive who hadn't yet been exposed to the chaos that was her playground.

Casting a wry glance in the direction of the other campers, she detached herself from the tree, her lithe form closing the distance between herself and the newbie. "Look what the cat dragged in," she mused aloud, a wicked smirk gracing her features as she looked the girl up and down. She propped her hand on her hip, her eyes twinkling with unspoken mischief. Despite her caustic exterior, she felt a vague pang of sympathy. She knew what it felt like to be the new girl, though she'd quickly taken the camp by storm. But this one, this 'Henry,' she seemed different - less like a deer caught in the headlights, more like a cub trying to find her bearings. It was amusing. And if there was one thing Tempest liked, it was a good show. "You look lost, kid," she continued, her voice laced with a casual nonchalance, betraying none of her swirling thoughts.

@ Henrietta Abbot

[Henrietta Abbot]

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."

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest's signature smirk deepened as the sharp retort left the mouth of the fresh arrival. The little cub certainly had some teeth, it seemed. Tempest had been expecting a more fearful, submissive response – that’s usually what she got from the newcomers. But this? This was a pleasant surprise! She let out a laugh, the sound echoing around the quiet camp. "You know what, cub?" she said, dusting off an imaginary speck of dirt from her shoulder. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

She flicked a quick glance over Henry's overall appearance again, her approving smirk fading slightly into an expression of curiosity. It wasn't often she saw a newbie sporting a battle wound. Sure, Camp Half-Blood was tough, but they usually kept the real threats away from the unclaimed ones. "Looks like you've had a rough start," she drawled, gesturing towards Henry's eye. Tempest's eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. Not that she would admit it, but she was taken aback. There was something about this scrawny girl with a smart mouth and a black eye that disrupted her usual rhythm. "What happened to your face, cub?" she asked, her voice surprisingly devoid of its earlier mocking tone. There was genuine curiosity there, and perhaps even a hint of... sympathy? No, she quickly corrected herself, it's just curiosity. Tempest Truett didn't do sympathy.

Edited July 15, 2023 by Tempest Truett

[Henrietta Abbot]

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. 

[Tempest Truett]

At the mention of a cyclops attack, Tempest's smirk came back in full force. She tried to suppress the bubbling laughter, but a small chuckle escaped. "Anyone who can take on a cyclops and come out the other end can't be too bad, I suppose," she said, the jest clear in her voice. She reached over to ruffle Henry's hair, the action spontaneous and uncharacteristic. It was almost an approving gesture, a sign of respect from the otherwise unapproachable Tempest. A rare event showing an overt fondness for anyone at camp, let alone a newcomer.

Taking in Henry's overwhelmed expression as she surveyed the camp, Tempest tilted her head slightly. There was a wildness in her eyes, like a cub faced with an insurmountable challenge, but underneath it all, there was also a hint of fear. The chaos of Camp Half-Blood was admittedly a lot to take in for someone so fresh off the mundane world. The constant clashing of swords, the mythical creatures just casually strutting about, it was a whole other universe in itself. "You look like you could use a break from all this," she suggested, nodding towards the bustling camp. "A know a quiet spot that's away from most of the noise. You game, cub?" As much as she enjoyed the madness of the camp, she remembered her first days too, the utter bewilderment and anxiety. She didn't usually take newcomers under her wing, but for this scrappy kid, she was willing to make an exception.

[Henrietta Abbot]

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. 

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest stiffened slightly at Henry's question, her otherwise relaxed demeanor showing the first sign of strain. Her smile faded, replaced with a hardened expression that made her seem older. Not many people had the courage to talk her about her parentage, at least not to her face. And it was a question she preferred to avoid. There was something about having a godly parent, being labeled and categorized, that didn't sit well with her. Tempest had never believed in fate or destiny; she preferred to carve her own path, unencumbered by expectations or assumptions. To her, the gods were distant, uninterested figures who hardly cared about their offspring. She couldn't remember the last time she prayed or made an offering with any real sincerity. What was the point?

With a shake of her head, Tempest broke the silence, her voice cold, but not unkind either. "It doesn't matter who my godly parent is, cub," she said, fixing Henry with a sharp gaze. "Your godly parent doesn't determine your fate. The gods, they don't care about us. We're just playthings to be picked up and discarded at their whim." As she finished her brief rant, she exhaled, a soft sigh escaping her lips. There was a distant look in her eyes, as if she was looking at something far off. She'd led them away from the bustling camp and towards the quieter outskirts, the empty archery range looming into sight. It was the perfect place to escape the chaos, an island of calm amidst the storm. "Here we are," she said, her voice low. "The archery range. No one's around this time, so it should be peaceful enough for you." Her gaze softened slightly as she looked back at Henry, as if she was reconsidering something, "Nemesis........my godly parent is Nemesis". She might not believe in the gods, and most of the time she didn't believe in people either, but in that moment, she believed in this strange, scrawny kid with a black eye and a fiery spirit.

[Henrietta Abbot]

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."

[Tempest Truett]

At Henry's earnest words, Henry laughed, a light-hearted and genuine sound that echoed through the archery range. "Badass?" she said. "Hmmm I guess that's one way to look at it." She shrugged, her features relaxing into a gentle smile. It was a rare sight, one that Henry would soon learn was seldom bestowed upon others. Tempest couldn't help but appreciate Henry's perspective. She'd never considered her lineage as something badass or cool. Most people viewed Nemesis, the goddess of vengeance, with a sense of trepidation, if not outright fear. It was a nice change, to hear it referred to as something positive. Picking up a bow that lay discarded on a nearby rack, Tempest twirled it around with a practiced ease. Taking a deep breath, she nocked an arrow and drew the string back, her eyes fixed on the target in the distance. Tempest released the arrow, watching as it flew through the air and hit the target. It wasn't a bullseye, but it was close. 

"Hermes, huh?" Tempest echoed, turning her attention back to Henry. She laughed again, this time a bit louder. "Well, I suppose it could be worse. You could be in the Ares cabin. They smell like a mixture of sweat, iron, and misplaced testosterone. I wouldn't worry too much though. With a mouth like yours, I don't think you'll be there for long." she teased. Another arrow left her bow, shot with more force than precision, flying way above the target and hitting a cabin in the distance. An echo of a thud followed by a surprised yelp made her grin slightly. "Well, that was not intended but still funny" she admitted, glancing sideways at Henry. "Ever held a bow, cub?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She proffered the longbow towards Henry, a dare in her gaze. "How about I show you how to shoot? Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't hit any cabins," she said with a wicked grin.

[Henrietta Abbot]

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.

[Tempest Truett]

As Tempest watched the girl struggle with the unfamiliar equipment, her expression was nothing short of amused. "Alright, alright," she chuckled. "You're not a child of Apollo, that's for sure. We can cross that one off the list." She found a strange sense of satisfaction in impressing Henry, something she rarely sought from others. Her typically aloof demeanor slightly softened, enjoying the connection she was beginning to form with the younger girl. "It's quite a rush, isn't it?" she said, resting her hand on the archery bow. "Here, let's try again ok?"

As she moved behind the girl to help her position herself, she felt an unfamiliar sensation — a protective instinct, maybe. Strange, she hadn't felt this way for a long time. "Now, pull back on the string like this...," she instructed, her voice a quiet, calming murmur in Henry's ear. As she said this, she moved even closer, her hands reaching around to help guide Henry's. It was a strangely close moment, and Tempest found herself surprisingly comfortable in this sudden role of mentor. "Ok now release when ready...with a little practice, you might just surprise yourself," she reassured Henry, her voice a mere whisper now. Even with all her snide remarks and tough exterior, she actually thought that Henry might have some potential. Maybe this cub could grow into a lion after all?

Edited July 16, 2023 by Tempest Truett

[Henrietta Abbot]

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...

[Tempest Truett]

To Tempest's surprise, the arrow hit the target. Not dead center, but it hit. 'Hmm guess I'm not the worst teacher' she thought. "Not bad, kid. For a newbie, that was a decent shot." Tempest being Tempest though it wasn't easy to tell if her words were earnest or sarcastic. But there was a small sense of pride in her voice, not just for herself, but for Henry as well. "Next time don't think about hitting the target; think about why you want to hit it." Quickly shifting gears, she turned to Henry with a more serious look. "Listen, camp can be a challenging place," she said. "It's not all archery and pegasus rides. It's full of children of gods who don't really care about us, so we have to learn to care for ourselves. Always remember: trust no one fully, especially not Aphrodite campers. They're masters of deception, of twisting hearts and minds."

With those words of caution out of the way, Tempest patted Henry's shoulder, her features softening into a smile. "But hey, you're tougher than you look. You'll be fine, cub. And remember, I've got your back. If you need anything or if any of bitches from Cabin 10 try and intimidate you you let me know ok?" She wasn't quite sure why she said it, but something about the girl's spirit, her determination, made Tempest believe in her. This was not something she did often, but for Henry, she was willing to make an exception. "Anyways, any more questions? Might as well ask them while I'm being generous. We also don't have to continue hanging out here either."

[Henrietta Abbot]

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. 

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes fixed on the bustling camp beyond the archery range. "A softie?" she scoffed. "Careful Henry, maybe I'm just buttering up to you so that you can take the fall for some scheme I'm concocting? Or maybe I'm planning on seducing you into becoming one of my minions?" She paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "Just be carful how much trust you put in people, here at Camp or just in general...."

The question about her cabin made Tempest blink in surprise. While her cabin wasn't any place particularly special for her, it was still a place she generally kept private. But for some reason she found herself surprisingly open to the idea of Henry visiting. She hesitated, her gaze drifting in the distantance as she pondered over the request. She didn’t usually invite people in, but something about Henry's forthrightness stirred a like response in her. “Alright, why not?” Tempest finally agreed, offering a quick nod. "But fair warning," she added, her expression turning playful yet sincere, "Nemesis cabin isn't your typical cozy cabin. You might want to keep your guard up.” She took the younger girl's hand and headed off towards the Cabin. "So...tell me more about yourself. What's your trauma?"

[Henrietta Abbot]

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.

[Tempest Truett]

"Sounds like the usual story then, except for a few privileged bastards." Tempest chuckled at Henry's candid words, finding an odd comfort in her straightforwardness. "It'd be tempting, you'd look pretty ridiculous bumbling around squint eyed for sure, but I'm already in enough trouble with Mr. D as it is." As they approached the Nemesis cabin, she prepared herself for the surprises that might hit the younger girl. The Nemesis cabin wasn't an inviting place; it was a fortress, a tribute to their goddess of retribution. The cabin’s exterior was stark and monolithic, made of obsidian black stones that shimmered in the sunlight with an imposing aura. A statue of their patron goddess, eyes blindfolded and scales in hand, stood guard by the entrance. Walking down the hallway, a cacophony of inappropriate sounds hit her ears. It sounded like one of her male siblings was busy screwing around, most likely with someone else's girlfriend too. Without missing a beat, Tempest quickly covered Henry's eyes with her hand. "Let’s not witness a spectacle we'll regret later, alright?" She hurriedly ushered Henry past the room before she'd be exposed to too much.

Once they were safely past the...distraction, Tempest led Henry to her own room. If the cabin was an austere fortress, her room was the lone sanctuary within its walls. Unlike the cold, daunting atmosphere of the rest of the cabin, her room was unexpectedly personal and warm, a paradoxical haven within Nemesis' domicile. A hammock was strung across one corner, while a sturdy wooden desk strewn with maps of the camp and the cabins, books, and a list of names many which were crossed out with red ink. Several trinkets from her battles and quests lay scattered across the room. A photograph of two campers, a girl and a boy kissing, was taped to the wall, three darts embedded in it. Next to it a photo of a different boy, his eyes X'ed over in black marker. Despite her warning, there was still a certain coziness to the room, a sense of lived-in comfort that was distinctly Tempest. She glanced at Henry, curious to see her reaction, as she said, "Well, welcome to the fortress of the 'camp menace.' Not as menacing as it sounds, right?"

 

[Henrietta Abbot]

"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?"  

[Tempest Truett]

A smirk tugged at Tempest's lips at Henry's immediate camaraderie, her question a perfect mix of curiosity and alliance. She glanced at the picture, dart now jutting out from the captured moment of bliss between the two campers. "Ah, them," she began, her tone turning a shade darker, a subtle undercurrent of past annoyance and wrath. "An Aphrodite camper and her boyfriend who thought it was amusing to use a love potion on me during dinner. Got me head over heels for a Hermes boy for two damn days. I like to keep it as a reminder... Of the retribution I owe them. And no, it's not the nymphomaniacs down the hall," she added, chuckling at Henry's choice of words. The casual manner in which she spoke of such a humiliating prank was testament to her resilience and stubborn sense of dignity.

A thoughtful silence filled the room for a moment, the past betrayal flickering in Tempest's eyes. She finally turned her gaze to the last photo on the wall, the one with the boy's eyes crossed out with a black marker. “That one," she said, pointing to it, her voice quiet, "is a story for another time." Her eyes held a mixture of emotions: anger, yes, but also a touch of sorrow and regret that she wouldn't allow to break through her usual hardened shell. Changing the subject, she nudged Henry playfully with her shoulder. "So, let's get down to business. Need any help deciding what weapon suits you best or maybe some tricks to help survive the ruthless world of Camp Half-Blood?" Her tone was back to its usual teasing, the moment of vulnerability passed.

[Henrietta Abbot]

"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. 

[Tempest Truett]

"Complete idiots, huh?" Tempest let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. It was refreshing, Henry's bluntness. Most campers tiptoed around harsh truths and coated their words in sugary falsehoods. Not Henry. Her straightforwardness was like a gust of fresh air in a cabin full of stale, recycled narratives. "Well, here's the first rule: idiots can be managed. It just requires a certain...finesse." Leaning back against the wall, she studied the younger girl. "Some people might see your hot-headedness as a weakness, but I think it can be a strength if you channel it right."

The second rule, Tempest was about to tell her, was not to trust blindly. This rule was deeply etched in her, woven into the fabric of her own experiences. But seeing Henry's face, looking up at her with an expectant, almost trusting gaze, she hesitated. There was a vulnerability to the younger girl that clashed with her feisty exterior. She was a newbie, still adjusting to the complex world of gods and monsters. It seemed almost cruel to impose upon her the harsh lessons Tempest had learnt the hard way. Pushing away these thoughts, she decided on a more optimistic rule instead. "And the second rule: Find your allies. They are your strength in this place. Not everyone is an idiot, some people... are worth trusting." She locked her gaze on Henry, hoping that she understood the weight of her words. As if to lighten the mood, she added, "Oh, and rule number three: Getting into trouble every now and again can lighten up a boring day, just make sure not to get caught or you'll be doing dishes for weeks!"

[Henrietta Abbot]

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.

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest couldn't help but smirk at Henry's suggestion, clearly entertained by her audacity. "You're eager to get into the thick of things, aren't you?" she commented, pushing herself off the wall, her fingers absentmindedly playing with a silver pendant hanging around her neck. The pendant had once been a gift, a symbol of protection, but its significance had changed for Tempest over time. Now, it served as a reminder of how quickly fortunes could change, especially in a place like Camp Half-Blood.

She took a moment to size up the eager teenager in front of her, her own memories of first coming to the camp flooding back. There had been so much she hadn’t known, so many lessons she had to learn the hard way. The thought of guiding Henry, of making her path a little easier, brought a strange warmth to her chest. "Alright," she began, a playful glint in her eyes, "First rule of causing trouble: always have an exit strategy. Let's start with a little reconnaissance of the camp, find out where the vulnerable spots are, and most importantly, where the fun is." She beckoned Henry with a wink, heading toward the door. "By the end of today, you'll see camp through a whole new set of eyes."

Tempest paused just before they exited her room, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, the Armory has always been a fun spot, especially if we 'accidentally' switch a few weapons around. And there's the stables; those pegasi can be mischievous if someone - not pointing fingers - were to give them a playful nudge. Oh, and let's not forget the dining pavilion during lunch rush. It's always entertaining to see how easily a misplaced goblet can create chaos." Her lips curved into a sly grin. "So, where do you want to begin our adventure, Cub?" She inquired, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

[Henrietta Abbot]

Present day POV:

Whenever the Camp was quiet and dull, Henry thought of her first day there. The strawberry fields bent under a slight breeze, all conversation was either distant or hushed: she was scared and alone. That was until Tempest showed up, a whirlwind of mischief, to take Henry under her metaphorical wing. From then on, a boring day at camp became an opportunity for trouble. An opportunity for trouble became an experience that tightened the bond between the two unlikely friends. 

Tempest remained one of Henry's closest confidants, her room in Cabin 16 a haven for Henry to let her guard down and just... exist. It was an easy friendship -- one that felt, at once, natural and exciting. To most other campers, Tempest was an unstoppable, unpredictable force: to Henry, she was an older sister, a mentor, and a life-long friend. So, on this dull day at Camp Half-Blood, Henry's slight figure cut the light streaming into Tempest's room. Smirking from the doorway, Henry said her usual line. 

"Boring day out there. Care to give 'em a demonstration in trouble, Temmy?"