Moving in [Open to two, preferably new people]

That smile, the real one, was slowly beginning to fade from Amara's face as she put the few items she had in her bag. She had just been claimed. At first she was happy, but then she felt sad. Not sad that she was leaving the Hermes cabin, oh Gods no, she couldn't help but. . . . well despise the Hermes cabin. It was where unclaimed demigods went if your parents hadn't claimed you yet. If she would be honest with herself, she would tell herself that she hated the place, but she would never admit it. To admit that would be to act against the Gods. Was she really all that grateful to them though? It had been over a year since she had arrived. She had done nothing but praise them. She did anything she could think of to please them. It was only now that she was being claimed.

Amara took her bag and stepped out of the Hermes cabin, not bothering to look back at the place. She would have to look at it every day anyways so there was no point for a 'last look'. She trudged (but made it look like a happy trudge, like she was tired and nothing more) over to her new cabin at the front of the U. Pursing her lips, she turned the knob. The door swept open. A breeze of ocean air followed it, almost as if it was desperate to get free. A thought suddenly occured to her. Last year, just when she had arrived, the Titans were attacking Olympus. She hadn't been much help, but there was a certain demigod, a boy, who stood out and seemed to take lead. His name was Percy Jackson and he was from Camp Demigod just like all the new arrivals. He was a son of Poseidon. That meant. . . . . . that the boy she had looked up to when she had arrived was really her half-brother. Her eyes widened at that discovery.

Almost in a trance, Amara stepped into the cabin. Sand was scattered on the wooden floor and the walls looked like she had just stepped onto Poseidon's beach. In the center of the room was a fountain with what she thougth to be sea water in it. Around the fountain up against the walls were bunk beds. Amara chose one off to the side of the room. It looked as if nobody had ever been inside the cabin before. Instead of feeling special because of it, instead she felt afraid. She didn't have anyone to show her the ropes of being a Poseidon kid, she had to figure everything out on her own.

Mid thought, there was a knock on the door. Moments later someone stepped into the cabin (Her cabin?).

"Hello," Amara turned to face the person.

Lys layed on the floor of the arena after another day of training. Today, as with every other day since he'd arrived and been claimed on his first day here, had been the same monotonous thing. Train, train, train. It's all he ever did. It's all he ever could do, because people who had heard he had been claimed didn't want him near them. Not because they didn't like him... they never even tried to get to know him. All they needed to know was that he was an Ares kid. The prejudice against the children of Ares stuck. People thought he'd be like his father, and his siblings. And so, Lys was lonely.

He was used to been lonely, though. After all, he'd lived on the streets where it had been him against the world, trying to survive. He had done, and he'd found his way to Camp Half Blood after finding a group of demigods travelling there. And then for some reason, he'd been chosen to go to Olympus. Maybe the Fates had had a hand in that. They were his patrons, after all. And they controlled... everything. That wasn't something Lys had been too happy about. He liked to think he controlled his own life, but with the knowledge that the Fates were real came the understanding that his life wasn't always his to control. At least, not fully. They may have control over when he died and how he lived, amongst other things, but they couldn't control the type of person he was. He was just as angry at them as he was with his father, the god of war, for letting his mother die. As far as Lys knew, the Fates had made that happen. He wasn't happy about that in the least. Who would be?

Sighing, he decided he was done for the day. He got up off the floor and went back to his cabin. He got a quick shower and got changed, then threw himself on his bed, letting his mind wander. It decided to go back a while, to the war. Lys had been on the streets then, and had seen everything that happened. He had been scared, not knowing who was friend or who was foe, and so he had hidden in a building, freaked out by the way that all the mortals were frozen. He'd heard the yells and the screams of pain, heard the clash of sword against sword, the roar of monsters and felt the ground shake as Hibernian giants roamed the streets in search of enemies. Lys had seen what war was like, and he didn't like it. At all. And the the irony was... the god of war was his father. He was born to live something he hated.

Lys didn't like the direction his mind was going in. What he wanted was some fresh air, to meet some new people who had just got to camp and who would hopefully not know he'd been claimed. That way, people wouldn't judge him. So far at camp, he'd only met Carly, who had been present at his claiming, only miutes after she'd been claimed by Aphrodite, and Lily, who had recently been claimed by Eros. Both knew who his parent was, but at least they had tried to get to know him. They hadn't pushed him away once they knew who his parent was, and for that Lys was thankful. At least there were a couple of people he could call his friends.

Closing the door behind him as he left his cabin, Lys looked around and saw that the door to the Poseidon cabin was slightly open. He'd heard that Posiedon had just claimed a daughter, but he didn't know her name. Been the nosy person he was, Lys decided to go see who was in the cabin. He walked over and took a peek in, seeing the girl. He took a breath and knocked on the door, before opening it and joining her in the cabin.

"Ummm...hi." Lys said as the girl greeted him. He didn't really have much of a clue as to what to say. He wasn't that good with people, he always felt awkward because he never knew what to say. "So... I'd just heard that you were claimed. Congratulations." Realising that he'd not introduced himself, Lys added, "The name's Lysander Davis. But please, just call me Lys."

It was a boy, someone who looked a little bit older than herself. Amara didn't recognize the boy, so he was probably another demigod from Camp Demigod. She smiled at the boy, trying to come across as friendly. He spoke, but it seemed that he felt awkward standing in the-(her?) cabin. The way he stood made her feel like some mean ogre who could jump at any moment and bite his head off. It was not the way she wanted to make anyone feel though. Instead she wanted him to feel comfortable in the cabin. Even if she was the only one of residence there it did not make it hers. It belonged to her father, Poseidon.

“Really? You heard that I was claimed?” Amara said, surprised that news had traveled so quickly. She knew that it was Mount Olympus, but she didn’t think it would get around within moments of it happening. “I was actually just claimed about five or ten minutes ago,” she grinned and tilted her head slightly to the right. “It’s quite funny that you already heard, thank you though!” Not knowing what else to say, she waiting for him to speak again.

He introduced himself as Lysander Davis, but asked that Amara call him Lys. She thought about the name and how it had rolled off his tongue. It had a nice sense of flow to it. The syllables all seemed to fit together correctly like puzzle pieces. She wanted to try it out herself, even though Lysander had asked that she call him Lys. In a loud whisper Amara said it, “Lysander Davis. I quite like that name.” Although he could probably hear her, she didn’t care. “Lysander Davis,” she said it once more. It would be the last time though, for she did not want to anger the boy.

“Well Lysan- I mean Lys. It’s quite the pleasure to meet you,” Amara spoke and tried to curtsey the best she could. However, it was a failed attempt. Instead of curtseying, she ended up slipping on some sand and falling on her hands and knees. Instead of making a big fuss over it, she rose to her feet as fast as she could and brushed off her knees. She muttered a sorry somewhere in there as well. She didn’t mean to be such a klutz, but it was not like she could help herself.

Staring as Lysander for a moment, she observed his face and clothing. He wasn’t really wearing anything that you could’ve gotten in any of the shops in town, or at least she was pretty sure that you couldn’t. She also wasn’t sure if he actually was from that camp on Long Island. That she needed to be sure about. “Are you from Camp Demigod?” She questioned him. She didn’t want it to seem like she was interrogating him, but if he was she would want to know something about the camp. She had never been there and was quite intrigued by the idea of a camp anywhere else.

"Yeah, I heard. There's not many of us up here, and you're a child of one of the Big Three. News travels fast here, you know?" Lys said as the girl told him she'd been claimed a matter of minutes ago. "Plus, naiads and satyrs are very chatty. You want to hear any gossip, go to them." At least they'll go near you... Lys thought. Out loud he replied to what the girl had said to him, ignoring the fact that she'd fallen over. He wasn't going to be mean enough to laugh at it, and he didn't know how the girl would like been asked if she was alright. So he ignored it. "Pleased to meet you too. If you want, you can call me Lysander... I only shortened it down to Lys because some people find it a pain to call me my full name all the time. Speaking of names, what would yours happen to be?"

Of course, he'd barely gotten the words out when the girl asked him if he had come from Camp Demigod.

"Well, it's called Camp Half Blood, not Demigod... though there's not really any difference. Yeah, I was there for about a month or two before I got chosen to come up here. I don't know why I got chosen, but I did. Before I went to Camp though, I lived on the streets. Stuff happened earlier in my life that I'd rather not talk about, and so I went from been a regular guy at school with a home, to been a street kid. It was a tough living, but I survived, obviously. Though I don't know if I'd be around now if I hadn't bumped into a group of demigods that got me to Camp..." Lys absent mindedly rubbed his chest, where he had a scar going from the top of his left shoulder down to the right hand side of his waist from where he'd been sliced open by a hellhound. "It's amazing what some ambrosia, nectar and an Apollo kid can do."

Just then, the cabin door opened again and a girl came in, who looked to be around the same age as Lys was. He could tell just by looking at her that she wasn't a demigod. She was a naiad. Luckily, he hadn't see her around before, so he hoped she wouldn't know about him been an Ares kid. Of course, that hope was short lived, as the naiad introduced herself as Zia and asked if he'd been claimed.

"Yeah, but I'd rather not say who by. It's not something I'm proud of." He said in answer to the question. It had been the only thing he'd wanted to avoid talking about, apart from his past before living on the streets, but there we go. It had come out of nowhere. It wasn't as if it could be helped. Everyone would find out sometime, right? But still, he didn't want to say who his godly parent was just yet. If he got asked who, then Lys, been the honest guy he was, would grudgingly tell them. If that happened, he hoped that neither of the girls would judge him on who his father was. He might be a child of Ares, but he was NOT his father, he was nothig like him.

"Oh, well I suppose it might. To be honest there haven't been many demigods around here until now," Amara laughed with her response. It was true, hardly anything happened until those demigods from that camp started coming up. She just hoped that nothing too major would start going on. She liked her peace and quite up there. It was one of her favorite things about Mt. Olympus. Hardly anyone ever bothered you, and if they did it was because it was meal-time or they wanted to go on a monster hunt. It was nicer than her 'home', much nicer.

"Oh really? I'm so glad, because Lysander sounds like one of those classy names like Nathaniel and Camillia that people always shorten down to something like Nathan or Cami!" Her smile stayed on her face as she started to rock back and forth on her feet, her arms crossed behind her back. "Oh! I'm sorry, how terribly rude of me," she muttered the last part to herself as she looked away from Lysander for a moment. "I'm Amara Roldi," she couldn't help but curtsey with her words.

Oh, so it was called Camp Half-Blood, not demigod. Amara laughed at her own stupidity. It was funny how all that time she had thought it was Camp Demigod. As Lysander finished speaking, curiousity almost sprung out of her mouth. She wanted to ask him about it, but she knew since they were not yet good friends he would not tell her. So should the time come when they were friends then perhaps she would ask him about his past. However, she couldn't help but be somewhat afraid that he would ask her about her past. She wouldn't be able to burden him like that, make him feel bad for her. No, she wouldn't have to tell anyone anything.

"Haha, I've never been there. Of course that might already be obvious! I've lived up here for about a year now. My dad whisked me away in my time of need." Although her smile stayed up, something inside of her wanted to get away. She wanted to get away and be alone so she could be upset. Just thinking about all the nasty things that happened to her made her want to cry for that little girl who had to endure those things. She wanted to wrap her arms around the little girl she had been and tell her everything was going to be okay, but she couldn't. That little girl didn't exist anymore.

Suddenly, a girl burst into the Poseidon cabin. It seemed odd, because it was usually custom to knock, but Amara couldn't get mad. It seemed she was hosting some sort of 'Ooh let's see if the rumors are true!' party and she could not be an impolite hostess.

"Hello Zia. Yes, I was claimed by Poseidon," Amara kept smiling at the girl. Suddenly, the focus shifted to Lysander and who his parent was. He gave them an unsatisfying answer, but if he didn't want to share then by no means should he have to. However, she wasn't sure why he wasn't proud of his parent. Having a Godly parent in general was an honor, although it would seem silly to say such a thing outloud.