I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In

[Beatrix McCoy]

It hadn’t been a good few days for Beatrix. As she trudged through the grand, imposing gate of Camp Half-Blood, she sniffed contemptuously. It smelled like strawberries and salt water. It was picturesque and… orange. Shit, was there some kind of uniform? She was dressed all in black, with her ginger hair tied up messily. A goth-in-training at the age of 12. Children as young as nine sprinted past her, laughing. Teens of all ages looked her up and down as she trudged past, a sour expression on her face. With her mum locked up and her grandma dead… seemed like CHB was all she had. So, she figured, she better get used to it.

Outside of her cabin with a small group of other new kids (apparently, the start of Summer was a busy season), Trix crossed her arms and fixed a smirk on her face. They were supposed to be given a tour of the grounds by an older camper, along with a timetable of their daily activities. Training, weaponry, etc. It was a bit of a rush, she had to admit. Plus, so many new people to scare. Maybe she was in her element after all!

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest watched from the shadows, sizing up the newcomers with an amused glint. Her gaze landed on the fiery redhead, Beatrix, who seemed out of place with her all-black attire amidst the sea of orange camp shirts. "She sticks out like a sore thumb," Tempest mused to herself. There was a certain aura of defiance around the girl that piqued Tempest's interest. Not many had the audacity to march into camp with such a distinct sense of identity, and Tempest could respect that. Still, respect didn’t mean she would refrain from her devious plans.

Taking a moment to adjust her own camp shirt, Tempest stepped forward with feigned enthusiasm, her mischievous grin never leaving her face. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, newcomers!" she greeted, her voice dripping with a sweetness that might seem genuine to anyone who didn't know her better. "I'm Tempest, and I'll be your guide today." She handed out the timetables she'd "carefully" crafted for each of them, making sure Beatrix received the one with the most convoluted schedule. "This is going to be fun," she thought, the thrill of potential chaos making her heart race. "Trust me," she added with a wink, her tone playfully deceptive, "Camp is going to be an experience you'll never forget." As the new campers began to chatter among themselves, Tempest silently reveled in the anticipation of the mayhem that was about to unfold. The smug satisfaction that came with being the puppet master was something she wouldn't trade for the world.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Trix’s grin deepened as the guide showed up, as though coming out of hiding. She was an extremely pretty girl, maybe two years older than Trix herself. Tempest. The name suited her perfectly; she definitely looked wild, uncontrollable, stormy. Trix felt drawn to the girl somehow – maybe because she was so outwardly confident. There was something about people like that that she especially enjoyed messing with. Plus, she had a feeling that Tempest would look particularly cute flustered: she looked like someone who would blush a brilliant shade of pink. If she could just manage to make eye contact with her, Beatrix knew she’d be able to get a better read on her. It was a talent she’d always had, though she didn’t necessarily understand it. As long as she made eye contact with someone, she could see a vision of what it was they feared the most.

Her opportunity came as Tempest handed her the timetable. Beatrix’s eyes met those of the brunette girl long enough for an image to emerge: hazy and dreamlike, she saw Tempest with a shadowy figure. It was so strange she almost lost grasp of the scene: Tempest, in the arms of an indistinct silhouette, laughing and smiling. Her and the figure shared a kiss and a far-away declaration of love before the vision floated dispersed like smoke from a candle. Trix was used to visions of violence, death, loss… but this? This girl was becoming more intriguing by the second. Taking the timetable, Trix was careful to brush Tempest’s fingers. She let out a quiet whistle. “An experience we’ll never forget, huh? You promise that, Tem?” Trix’s sent the vision of Tempest’s fear right back to her, giving the redhead a rush of energy that made her eyes glint.

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest stiffened at the unexpected contact, a shiver running down her spine. The memories and feelings attached to that vision rushed to the surface, making her heart rate spike. Those emotions and that dreamlike vision were private, something she had never shared or even fully processed herself. For the first time in a while, she felt exposed, like an open book for someone else to read. Her playful facade wavered for a moment, her eyes betraying a mixture of shock and irritation. "It's Tempest, not 'Tem'," she responded, her voice cool but with an unmistakable edge. She quickly retreated a step back, needing the distance to regain her composure. She had been at camp long enough to learn that some campers could draw out things from others. She didn't know how it worked but she guessed what she just felt was the result of that. And judging from the other girl's facial reaction, it was done on purpose. The audacity of the girl, the audacity to throw her own fears on her like that! Beatrix was proving to be more than just a challenge; she was a force to be reckoned with.

Internally Tempest was split. On one hand, she felt the need to retaliate, to teach the newcomer a lesson about messing with her. But on the other, she was wary of the unfamiliar power the redhead possessed. Despite this unexpected vulnerability, Tempest was not one to back down. She would need to navigate this carefully, but for now, she'd play along. With a smirk returning to her lips, albeit a bit more guarded than before, she replied, "Beatrix right? Well, the goal is always to leave an impression. Just make sure you stick to your schedule, unless you fancy a surprise or two," she smirked. "I'll be sure to check in with you at the end of the day just to make sure everything went as planned. After all, I love making sure new campers first days are one they won't forget." She mentally prepared herself for any further games Beatrix might want to play. After all, the storm within her was far from subsiding, and Tempest Truett wasn't one to be easily outplayed.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Beatrix breathed in an intoxicatingly fresh breath of air. Her senses seemed suddenly heightened, her cheeks gaining a bit of colour as Tempest reacted coldly. Trix could tell she’d gotten under the girl’s skin, however much she hid it. The girl was an expert at hiding, that much was clear. She was ticking every box – beautiful and complex, with a bizarre fear. Trix was itching to discover the root of that vision, to feel the sweet sensation of Tempest’s heart rate spiking and her breath quickening. Witnessing that fear response was a thrill like nothing else! “Tem suits you better,” she said, her eyes wide in faux-innocence. “But you’re the boss, Tempest.” Her eyes flickered up and down Tempest’s frame, observing her body, posture and clothes with a keen precision and a wicked grin. It was for effect, sure, but it was for pleasure too… the girl was easy on the eyes, even if she was a weird prep.

“You got it, boss. See you tonight then.” Trix delivered the line with an effortless wink, her fingers twisting around one of the necklaces she wore. Her arrogance soon wore off, however. The day was an absolute mess, a series of embarrassing mistakes and wild goose chases as the timetable led her astray at every opportunity. She didn’t get to a single activity on time, and several of the older campers took issue with that. She had to do her fair share of push-ups as punishment for her tardiness, and the injustice made her furious! It was all that Tempest girl’s fault; she’d messed with their timetables on purpose. Thank the gods she’d be visiting her later, so Trix could give her a piece of her mind!

[Tempest Truett]

The afternoon sun dipped towards the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the campgrounds. Tempest, always one to enjoy the satisfaction of a well-executed plan, began making her way towards the Hermes cabin. The playful glint in her eyes hinting at the knowledge of the chaos she had unleashed upon the redhead. She replayed their morning interaction in her mind, especially the way Beatrix's eyes had danced with mischief and challenge. "No camper has ever affected me like this before," Tempest mused, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt. Beatrix was clearly not an average newcomer. The realization made her stomach churn with a mixture of excitement and unease about what to expect.

Reaching the cabin Tempest took a moment to steady herself. Her intent was to tease, perhaps gloat a little about the day's events. But she was also bracing herself for the whirlwind that was Beatrix. Taking a deep breath, she knocked confidently on the door frame. "Hey Beatrix," she began, voice dripping with faux concern. "Just checking in to see how your first day went. I hope you had a memorable experience. After all, I did promise you that." The corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a smirk. She felt a thrilling pulse of adrenaline as she anticipated Beatrix's response. The game between them had just begun, and Tempest was eager to see how it would unfold.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Yet to be claimed by her godly parent, Beatrix was stuck in the Hermes cabin with the rest of the new-comers. They all seemed to have made friends of their own, moving into cliques around Trix as she sat by and watched. She was staring into space, braiding small sections of her hair absentmindedly when she heard a sharp knock. Her head snapped up to meet the gaze of Tempest, the older girl who had messed with her timetable. Trix’s eyebrows arched into a withering scowl that only deepened as the girl mocked her. The faux concern and blatant disrespect had her furious; sure, maybe she deserved the prank – but Tempest wasn’t to know that! As far as she’d known while handing out the timetables, Trix was just a normal innocent newcomer! “You,” growled Trix, her hands dropping from her mane of red hair. “You set me up, Tem,” she stressed the final syllable, knowing that she hated the nickname. “I’ll give you a memorable experience you sly, conniving, evil little–” Trix cut herself off, standing up from the tiny bed she’d been allocated.

She marched forward til she was just inches from Tempest. Being that she was quite a bit shorter than the girl, Trix’s chin was angled upward in an attempt to meet her eye. With her arms crossed in anger, she found her usual cool demeanour was eluding her. She knew barely anything about this pretty brunette, but she knew enough to rile her up. Her face softened performatively. “You’re even prettier up close,” she observed with a wolfish grin. “Can’t stay mad at a face like that. Even if you are a conniving, evil little witch.” Trix’s hand snaked up and tugged on a lock of the brunette’s hair, the playful action underscored with a slight menace. 

[Tempest Truett]

The touch was unexpected. The fiery proximity of Beatrix made Tempest's heart beat rapidly, her breath catching slightly. She had dealt with unruly campers before, ones who challenged her authority and tried to defy the unspoken rules of the camp, but Beatrix was different. The pure audacity of this younger girl's advances, combined with the undertones of a threat, was an unfamiliar sensation. She was accustomed to being the puppet master, not the marionette, and this sudden shift had thrown her off her game. The fact that Beatrix combined her aggressive posture with a flirty comment only added to the confusion. Tempest took a second to process it all.

Taking a deliberate step back to reestablish some distance and control, Tempest fixed a cool gaze on the younger girl. "You have a lot of nerve, Beatrix," she began, her voice maintaining its icy calm, "And while I might have admired your audacity this morning, you should know that there are consequences for stepping out of line at this camp." Tempest's eyes hardened, the playful gleam replaced with a seriousness that few would had seen. "I have connections here, and it wouldn't be too hard to give you some...extra chores or make your life a bit more challenging than it already is. I hope you love pushups…" The implicit threat hung in the air between them, Tempest's posture straight and unwavering, waiting to see if her words would have any effect on the fiery newcomer.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Clearly, Beatrix was getting to Tempest. That was, of course, the goal but she still wanted to push further. Trix had that problem: she didn’t know when to stop. Even if she did know, she probably wouldn’t. The distance that Tempest was putting between them was a clear tell that she was feeling out of control, and that Trix’s technique was working. It was strange that her advances were received with a tinge of fear… usually she had to veer in quite the opposite direction to get the fear response she was after. Tempest was still an enigma, and that was completely intoxicating. Let it never be said that Beatrix didn’t enjoy a challenge.

“Luckily, I love consequences,” Trix said with a grin that implied a double meaning in her words. “But, if you insist. I’ll try not to challenge your authority anymore, ma’am.” She dipped into a sarcastic curtsey. Tempest clearly needed to be in control; the longer Beatrix kept up that facade, the better the response would be when she did rebel. It was a game of cat and mouse – her favorite kind. “Will you close the door on your way out? And, hey, since you know where I’m sleeping… come round any time, yeah?” she delivered a wink, especially formulated to send a chill down the older girl’s spine. Maybe CHB would be fun after all…

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest was not used to being caught off guard this many times in one day. She was taken aback by Trix's daring demeanor and challenging words as she struggled to maintain her authoritative facade. The sarcasm in Trix's curtsey and her invitation to "come round any time" elicited a mixture of annoyance, curiosity, and an unfamiliar thrill in Tempest. Trying to reassert her dominance, she narrowed her eyes and responded with a cold smirk, “Be careful what you wish for, Trix. You just might find that the consequences here aren’t as enjoyable as you think.” With that, she turned on her heel, giving Trix a final, inscrutable look before exiting the cabin, leaving behind a strong tension in the air.

Closing the door firmly behind her, Tempest found herself in a state of uncharacteristic turmoil. The encounter with Trix had left her feeling both rattled and intrigued. The younger girl’s audacity and apparent lack of fear were unlike anything Tempest had encountered before, throwing her off her game and sparking so many conflicting emotions. As she walked away from the Hermes cabin, her mind raced with thoughts of how to regain control over the situation and decipher the enigma that was Beatrix, all while maintaining her composed and authoritative exterior.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Verse 2: Girl Afraid, Where Do Her Intentions Lay?

Beatrix had been at camp for a week. It was always busy, crowded and sweaty. She’d had to ask Chiron for the proper version of her timetable, and hadn’t been late or gotten lost since. Still, some of the older campers in charge of training sessions held her first day against her. It was in subtle things – harsher criticism towards her than her peers, more severe punishments, etc. Tempest hadn’t been kidding when she warned her about the push-ups… Trix’s arms ached, and it wasn’t from swinging a sword around.

Worn out and feeling a bit stroppy, Bea watched the campfire lick the air with its boisterous flames. Everyone around it glowed with an orange light, and it picked up the colour of her hair into a vivid red. She probably looked like a fire herself. It was setting fires that had got her sent away from home, among other things… she couldn’t help but wonder that, if she hadn’t been sent away, maybe her grandma would still be around. Doubt crept in from some dark recess of her mind. Was it all her fault? Was she as bad of a kid as everyone always said? Suddenly, she was aware of a new light source, shining above her head. It wasn’t like the glow of the fire, it was different– darker. She heard whispering all around her, some kids even pointed. Somebody hissed next to her, “That’s the symbol of Phobos. You’ve been claimed,”. Bea didn’t know much about Greek mythology, but the name rang a bell. Phobos. God of fear and panic. She grinned, straightening her spine into an immaculate display of posture. She caught the eye of a girl through the flames of the bonfire: Tempest Truett. Beatrix’s prideful smile only grew. 

[Tempest Truett]

Observing the proceedings from across the fire, Tempest's eyes widened at the sight of the symbol of Phobos materializing above Beatrix's head. A flash of concern crossed her usually impassive face, quickly masked by a deliberate neutrality. Phobos, the god of fear and panic, was known for his unpredictable and often treacherous nature, and Tempest couldn’t help but wonder what this claim meant for their developing rivalry. Tempest felt a twinge of unease; she had been accustomed to being the one to instill fear and maintain control, but with Beatrix as a child of Phobos, the dynamics could shift dramatically. Tempest's grip tightened around the fabric of her clothes as she watched Beatrix's smile widen, a clear indication that the girl understood the power now bestowed upon her.

Pushing down her apprehensions, Tempest straightened and met Beatrix's gaze with a steely one of her own, refusing to be intimidated. In her mind, she began to strategize, contemplating how to navigate this newfound complication. Beatrix being a child of Phobos brought an element of unpredictability to their interactions, and Tempest knew she had to be prepared for any potential challenges to her authority. The wheels in her head were turning, evaluating potential risks and considering how to assert dominance while maintaining a semblance of balance in their dynamic. Despite her external composure, a storm was brewing within Tempest, and she was determined to emerge from it unscathed and in control.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Gods, Tempest was such a challenge! It infuriated Trix and delighted her in equal measure. The cold gaze the brunette delivered was a defiant move. It was brave and commanding; if Trix hadn’t been distracted by the challenge it presented, she would’ve felt her heart flutter a little. But, no, she was in this for the chase! For the energy of a fear response – for the feeling of power and control. Somehow the fear of a pretty girl just hit different, that was all. Picking herself up off the log she had been perched on, Beatrix gathered her long black skirt to keep it from the sparks of the campfire. She held it up as she marched purposefully towards Tempest, sitting heavily down beside her. “You saving a seat for me, Tem? So sweet,” she perched her chin on her palm, looking up at the girl next to her mischievously. “It’s either that or… you don’t have any friends. But a pretty thing like you, that can’t be it!”

Trix’s blue eyes widened into mock-innocence, a small smile tugging at her lips. Tempest was glowing in the firelight, her features somehow both delicate and strong. She really was beautiful. Who cares? Just makes her more fun to mess with, Trix convinced herself. “Oh, you have something–” the redhead swiped the corner of Tempest’s mouth with her thumb. There wasn’t anything there, of course. “Gone,” she grinned wickedly. “You’re welcome.” 

[Tempest Truett]

Tempest's jaw tensed as she listened to Beatrix's teasing words, the redhead’s forwardness an unfamiliar and disconcerting challenge to her typical authority. There was something about Trix's mischievous grin and the gleam in her eyes that sent a ripple of unease through Tempest's composed exterior, making her question whether the power dynamics she was so accustomed to were shifting beneath her feet. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of such unabashed boldness, and it made her feel, unsettlingly, like she was losing control. Tempest watched as Trix confidently approached, and she forced herself to maintain her cool exterior, reminding herself that showing vulnerability was not an option.

Her jaw tensed further when Beatrix, with a wicked grin, swiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. This act was unexpected and Tempest felt a flutter in her stomach, a feeling she quickly suppressed, unwilling to let Trix see any reaction. Choosing her words carefully, Tempest looked at Trix with a sly smile, “Well, if I was saving this seat, it certainly wasn’t for someone who doesn’t even have a cabin of her own. I suppose Phobos just isn’t important enough.” The joke was a small jab, a way for Tempest to regain some semblance of control in their interaction. Internally, she was grappling with the uncertainty Trix brought into her life, a chaos she neither welcomed nor understood. The redhead’s daring personality and the unknown of what she was capable of as a child of Phobos had Tempest on her toes, determined not to let this girl get the upper hand.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Something had shifted, Beatrix could sense that. It was in Tempest’s body language as much as it was in the rush of energy Trix felt surge through her body. Tempest had her tells: a tensed jaw, a slight movement back, a twitch at the side of her mouth before she committed to an expression. Interrupting her thoughts, Tempest’s comment took Trix off guard. And she laughed. It was a genuine laugh, born from real amusement. Trix’s calculated persona slipped for a moment as she waved an index finger at the brunette, an acknowledgement of the joke. “That was funny,” she said, with a hint of admiration in her voice. “You’re funny. I like that,” Trix added, her voice tinged with sincerity for the first time since her arrival at camp.

“Guess that Hermes room is my permanent residence then,” she grimaced, staring into the fire with her elbows resting on her knees. Her hands were collapsed in front of her, fingers absentmindedly tapping on one another. Already her parentage was having an affect, it seemed. Some of the other campers were looking at her cautiously, or whispering behind their hands. Trix was excellent at being a loner, but something inside her didn’t like being so different. This was supposed to be the place everyone like her went. She was supposed to be normal here. That didn’t seem likely now somehow. “At least you still know where to find me,” Trix added, shaking herself from the thoughts that whirled in her head.

[Tempest Truett]

For the first time a delicate smile touched Tempest's lips at the sound of Beatrix's genuine laughter. There was a certain charm in the unexpected sincerity of the moment, and it made Tempest reconsider her initial assessment of the enigmatic redhead, but only slightly. “Camp isn’t so bad, you know,” she found herself saying, her tone softer than she had intended. “There’s a place for everyone here, even for those who are different. We’re all misfits in one way or another.” She glanced at Trix, noting the uncertainty in the girl’s eyes and the way the other campers eyed her warily. For a brief moment, Tempest felt a flicker of empathy for the girl beside her. Despite their differences and the tension between them, they were both demigods struggling to find their place in a world that wasn’t always kind.

Lost in her thoughts, Tempest stared into the fire, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on her face. She felt an odd connection to Beatrix, a realization that surprised her. Perhaps it was the shared experience of being different, of being daughters of gods and grappling with the expectations and challenges that came with it. For the first time, she allowed herself to relax just a bit around Trix. She turned towards the girl, her eyes meeting the vivid blue ones, and said, “It’s not about where we come from, but who we choose to be. Maybe that bit of advice will help, I don't necessarily care one way or another just so ya know.” The words were unexpected, but sincere in her own Tempest kinda way.

[Beatrix McCoy]

The sincerity of Tempest’s words hit Beatrix in a way she didn’t anticipate. She felt young, lost and scared: she had no family left, and no real friends to speak of. She was in a strange new place with strange new people, and was learning a lot of new things about herself that she didn’t necessarily welcome. Most 12 year olds probably felt that their world was caving in, but Trix’s really was. Either that, or it was just opening up… both sounded equally dangerous. She shook her head slightly, avoiding Tempest’s eye. “Who died and made you camp counsellor?” The joke was underscored with a slight bitterness. Much like any pre-teen goth worth her salt, Trix didn’t feel like anyone could understand what she was going through. She wasn’t used to feeling fear, and safe to say she didn’t like the sensation.

“‘Night, Tem.” Trix said with a sigh, standing up and looking in the direction of the Hermes cabin. It was overcrowded and smelly in there; things weren’t looking up. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, or maybe the smell of body odour will suffocate me in my sleep. If only my dad was a bit more important, eh?” With that, she picked up her skirts again and stomped off to bed. 

[Tempest Truett]

Verse 3: Cupid draw back your bow, And let your arrow go

~ 2019 ~

With a thunderous expression, Tempest marched towards the archery range, her jaw set and her eyes stormy. She had heard enough whispers and stifled giggles to last her a lifetime, and the source of it all, she learned, was none other than Beatrix, or Trix as she seemed to go by now. Tempest's usual stoic demeanor was replaced by a tempestuous anger, the rumor painting her in a light she never wished to be seen in. Love was a vulnerability, a weakness she couldn’t afford, and now thanks to Trix, campers were approaching her with roses and shy smiles. Every step she took was fueled by a growing resentment for the cheeky redhead. Her mind raced with how to confront Trix and regain control of her image, a sense of urgency pulsing through her. Tempest didn't like the unease this situation had plunged her into; the balance of power and the way she was perceived were in jeopardy, and she felt a pressing need to rectify this.

Upon reaching the archery range, Tempest spotted Trix, the bow in her hand and a smirk playing on her lips. The sight further fueled Tempest's determination to set things straight. With a deep breath, she approached Trix, her voice assertive, “Trix, we need to talk. I don’t appreciate being the subject of baseless rumors, especially ones like you're spreading....” The last word was spoken with a hint of disdain, her eyes narrowing as she gauged Trix's reaction. Internally, Tempest was grappling with maintaining her composure while confronting Trix, keen on resolving this situation swiftly and asserting her dominance once more.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Right as Beatrix loosed her arrow, she heard the furious voice of Tempest Truett: aaah, what a delicious sound it was! Turning away from the target, Trix leaned casually on the bow, her eyebrow raised in mock-curiousity. “It’s lovely to see you too, Tem,” she grinned, bowing sarcastically. “As for these rumors, you’re gonna have to be more specific…” she stifled a laugh as the thought of Tempest being pestered by suitors all day surfaced in her mind. To get the ever-cool, always-refined Tempest in a rage like this was a delightful triumph. Exactly what she’d intended to happen when she set the first whisperings into motion: A reputable source told me that Tempest Truett is ready to mingle! But word is she’ll only fold for the grandest, most romantic gesture imaginable…

“Speaking of gossip, I heard you’re in the market for a new beau – maybe I can throw my hat in the ring? I’d so love to take you out some time.” Trix smirked, relishing in the triumph and energised by the response from Tempest. Trix was both a sore loser and an insufferable winner: what can I say? The girl loves to gloat!

[Tempest Truett]

Taken aback, Tempest's stern demeanor faltered for a brief moment at Trix's brazen words. The audacity of this girl! Tempest found herself, for just a moment, studying Trix. The light of the midday sun shown on her features, casting a glow on her skin and accentuating the vibrant red of her hair. Tempest's eyes momentarily lingered on Trix's smirking face, acknowledging, albeit unwillingly, the fiery beauty before her. The realization of her own distraction hit Tempest like a cold wave, snapping her out of the fleeting trance. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face; she was here to regain control, not to get lost in the very antics she sought to quell.

Pushing away the unwanted thoughts, Tempest's gaze sharpened, and she tried addressing Trix with a controlled sternness, “This isn’t a joke, Trix. I’m not some lovestruck fool for you to toy with.” She took a step closer, her voice filled with an undercurrent of restrained emotion, “I demand you put an end to this nonsense immediately.” Internally, Tempest was battling her own storm of frustration and the unexpected acknowledgment of Trix's alluring beauty. She maintained her composure, resolute in her desire to dispel the chaos Trix seemed so keen on sowing.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Beatrix huffed a small sigh of resignation, letting the bow fall to the ground beside her. “I don’t know what makes you so sure I’m to blame for this,” she complained, twisting her fiery hair into a knot at the top of her head. “And as for lovestruck fools… you’ll come around, Tem. I always get what I want, y’know,” lowering her hands, Trix absentmindedly fidgeted with one of the many necklaces she wore. Her wicked smile was a further challenge, as though daring Tempest to get more irate and lose her cool completely. It’d been a long few years of pranks back and forth; it just so happened to be Trix’s turn now. She wouldn’t apologise for that, and she wouldn’t back down. No matter how gorgeous Tempest may or may not look.

Shrugging, Trix continued. “You know the camp rumor mill. This’ll all blow over in a few days, then I’m sure you’ll be able to laugh about it. Speaking of, I heard an Apollo boy is planning to serenade you at dinner tonight,” Beatrix let out a bubbling laugh, joyful and mischievous. “Maybe you should practice your kissing technique on your pillow or something? You know, just in case.” She eyed her rival up and down, taking in every inch of the girl. She was a formidable foe, equally admired and feared around the camp: a demigod Regina George. Trix was drawn to her, like a magnet. Any kind of authority, she was bound to challenge. Tempest’s authority was particularly fun to poke at. And, hey, she just looked so damn cute when she was mad!

[Tempest Truett]

Feeling an unusual flicker of shyness, Tempest caught herself allowing another glance at Trix’s figure, a fact that irritated her. This was not how she had anticipated the confrontation to go. Trix's assertion that she always got what she wanted only served to heighten Tempest's internal conflict between maintaining authority and the growing, albeit reluctant, awareness of Trix's allure. Tempest clenched her jaw, feeling a mix of frustration and something else she didn’t quite want to name. “Why this rumor, Trix? Of all the pranks and games, why choose to paint me as someone seeking love?” she questioned, trying to keep her voice steady and her demeanor unyielding. The assertive and commanding Tempest Truett felt a crack in her armor, a vulnerability she hadn’t expected to face today, especially not at the hands of Beatrix.

She held Trix's gaze, trying to decipher what lay behind those mischievous eyes, seeking an understanding of why Trix chose this particular rumor. Every fiber in her being screamed to maintain control, to not let Trix see the effect she had on her, but Tempest felt an unfamiliar waver in her resolve. She needed answers, and she needed to regain control, but Trix's presence and the uncharacteristic sensations it brought were making that increasingly challenging.

[Beatrix McCoy]

“Because I see you,” Trix answered simply. The slight desperation in Tempest’s questioning was endearing, and would’ve made a lesser prankster feel a bit guilty. But Trix was used to using her phobikenesis to get ahead, so why should Tempest be any different? Whenever they made eye contact, Trix saw that vision: the shadow of fear, the dread of love… she just had to know why. Just about every piece of media in the world described love as being the best sensation possible, the height of human feeling. So why was Tempest so scared of it? “You’re not like other people. Most people are scared of death, or spiders, or heights. But you…” Trix’s words trailed off as her eyes searched Tempest, as though looking for clues. “You’re different.”

Trix’s words seemed to occupy the space between the two girls, just as much as something solid and palpable would. The truth, something rarely exchanged between Tempest and Trix. TnT, always ready to explode. Would this be the spark that ignited it? Whatever ‘it’ was? Trix picked her bow back off the ground and notched another arrow. She let out a steady exhale and shot. A bullseye. Her gaze wandered back to the brunette, a defiant arch in her eyebrow. 

[Tempest Truett]

Taken aback by the candidness of Trix's observation, Tempest felt a sudden exposure, as if a veil had been lifted and her carefully guarded vulnerability was laid bare. The fact that Trix could see through her, discerning a fear that Tempest herself barely acknowledged, was unsettling. The air around her seemed to thicken, her usually steadfast gaze wavered under the intensity of Trix's scrutiny. It was a challenge, and Tempest couldn’t afford to back down. With a resolute breath, she retrieved her bow and notched an arrow, aiming at the target. The string snapped back, the arrow flew, but it landed just slightly off the bullseye. Tempest's grip tightened around the bow, a silent irritation brewing within her. The sensation of Trix's eyes on her, the knowledge of her seen-through fears, and the slight miss of her arrow created a tumult within her that Tempest struggled to keep at bay.

Maintaining her composure, Tempest turned back to Trix, the slight miss of the arrow still prickling at her pride. “Seeing through people doesn’t give you the right to manipulate them, Trix,” she retorted, a firm edge to her voice. Despite the sternness of her words, Tempest felt an unsettling mixture of irritation and intrigue towards the redhead. The air seemed charged around them, a tangible tension that Tempest hadn’t anticipated. She was here to assert her dominance, to quell the rumors and regain her control, but Trix's ability to discern her hidden fears had thrown her off balance. Tempest was used to being the observer, the one who saw through others, and being on the receiving end was both unsettling and inexplicably invigorating.

[Beatrix McCoy]

Beatrix said nothing, even when Tempest’s arrow didn’t quite meet its target. She wasn’t interested in upsetting the girl, for some reason. All she wanted was to rile her up a bit, maybe frustrate her, frighten her. For some inexplicable reason, though, Beatrix didn’t want to be hated by Tempest Truett. Usually, the scorn and dislike of her peers didn’t phase her one bit. And Tempest was supposed to be a rival, an enemy, an energy source… something about seeing this new side of Tempest had shaken Trix in a way she couldn’t describe. She refused to let it show though, squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up in a good approximation of confidence. “You shared that knowledge with me, Tem, whether you like it or not. There was a part of you that wanted to be seen by me.”