#﹡ 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 ﹕ script .

[ptolomeas]

               CLOSED  STARTER     .ᐟ               @               HALF - BLOOD  HILL,               half  an  hour  before  leaving  time               —               late  morning,  closer  to  noon  than  eleven,  a  send - off  where  nobody  is  waiting  to  see  them  off  (  because  everyone  has  already  said  goodbye  and  it's  easier  this  way  ),  a  moment  stolen  between  friends - turned - sisters.

an  uneasy  stirring  in  her  belly,  something  awkward,  like  tough  meat  that  wasn't  chewed  correctly  now  sitting  in  her  gut.  bunny  hasn't  left  camp  since  she  arrived,  not  even  to  visit  the  city  or  get  some  prohibited  snacks  from  the  gas  station  up  the  road.  anything  she  needs  someone  else  can  get  for  her,  someone  more  adventurous,  with  more  courage,  a  clear  mind  left  untouched  by  the  plague  of  wracking  paranoia.  she  begged  her  father  to  let  her  stay  —  xander  would  do  just  fine  defending  his  honor  in  the  wild,  he  would  be  a  great  son  to  show  ot  zeus,  all  to  fall  on  deaf  ears.  dionysus  is  as  agitated  as  the  rest  of  them  and  even  chiron,  whose  eyes  look  more  tired  with  each  passing  day,  couldn't  do  anything  but  give  her  a  sad  look  and  an  empty  statement  that  he  had  seen  many  heroes  return.  they  both  know  that  she's  read  enough  to  understand  that  most  heroes  don't  return  at  all. standing  next  to  @omorfias,  bunny's  eyes  hide  behind  a  pair  of  sunglasses,  golden  aviator  glasses  also  stolen  from  her  dad  (  thank  you,  tony  !  ).  she  heaves  a  sigh,  which  is  followed  shortly  by  a  groan  and  she  clicks  her  tongue  against  the  roof  of  her  mouth.   “   we'll  be  fine,  right?   ”   she  asks  ga - eun.  it  is  obvious  she's  trying  to  soothe  herself  rather  than  the  newcomer.   “   they're  relatively  easy,  nothing  should  go  wrong.  we're  just  finding  the  —  fates,  easy  peasy,  right?   ”   

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ CABIN 10 with @omorfias, LUNCHTIME ON THE EIGHTH.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  NORMALCY, WHATEVER IS LEFT OF it, is found in cabin 10, where things are pink and smell like roses and ga - eun is content with bunny's most pressing concern ( ran out of hair conditioner and needs some as soon as possible ). with the conditioner in hand, bunny lies on ga - eun's bed, flipping through a glossy magazine left behind by one the aphrodite campers, biting on her lower lip while avoiding the outside. but, she doesn't smoke indoors, and well, if she doesn't, she might turn this glass, heart - shaped perfume into wine. which is worse? "whose perfume is this?" she nods toward the night stand. "yours? would you be put out if i were terribly thirsty and needed a drink?"

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ AMPHITHEATER with @bloodymiinded, BEFORE THE BONFIRE, ON THE SEVENTH.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  A LESSON BEST LEARNED AT camp: if she gets here while chiron and the apollo cabin is setting up, they won't miss her when she leaves early. bunny did show up, they'll say, i remember seeing her near the back where she always sits —  and then they'll point to the vague section nearest the exit where they saw her earlier. her skin has been covered in gooseflesh since she woke up, even through the drinks and the cigarettes and the  ...  other extracurriculars that happened about the dionysus cabin. this bonfire is making her shoulders stiff, just like dinner did, and oh, yes, the policeman visiting camp; if she has to listen to the apollo cabin's rendition of down by the aegean, she'll induce her own madness. "oh, eli," bunny drones as he walks by, lifting her foot to wave. "my father was asking for you, but i told him that you were reading — which," she says, cutting her glare upward toward them. "were you? the bacchae, the thing i told you about."

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ ARTS & CRAFTS CENTER with @claervoyants, MID - MORNING, ON THE EIGHTH

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  NOT THAT THE ARTS & CRAFTS center needs much organizing, necessarily, or any sort of up - keep ( it was deemed most hippie - like, plus or minus a few magical canvases ), but bunny is making herself scarce, staying out of the way of the demigods most busy; dionysian children, after all, don't often find themselves in the middle of any tasks deemed curious —  the athena cabin is disgusted at their lack of effort, and in response, bunny's siblings are hiding in their own cabin, claiming hangovers ( or, sympathetic hangovers, according to the teenagers ). bunny keeps shuffling papers to look busy, lips pursed just so before she drops them and pretends to be organizing vials of glitter, creating more mess that someone else will have to clean. her eyes peer out at the moving demigods, watching their lips moving, trying to listen to as much as she can —  and all she gets is more questions. what did he ( the policeman ) ask chiron? was he kind of cute? should i write home? half distracted, she barely recognizes piper as she passes, but instinct alone has her insides curdling at something so shiny, so touched by the stars. a scowl appears on bunny's face before she clears her throat, leaning out of the arts and crafts center a touch. "wei!" she calls after piper. "you spend a lot of time in here, don't you? apollo cabin, or whatever." bunny pauses and the scowl reappears briefly. "someone's made a mess."

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ DOCKS, CANOE LAKE with @etherialises, AFTER ( DURING? ) THE BONFIRE ON THE 7TH.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏∗  IN THE COMPANY OF LIKE - minded individuals, silence has a way of making itself passive, its angry aggression fading into a blooming comfort; silence when it is coveted most. the loudest sound in a half an hour is the flipping of a crisp page from bunny's book, or the shuffle of alicia's body on the docks, or a water nymph tossing a pebble onto the lake, breaking the surface and creating ripples that soon lap against the docks. when she reaches a part of her book ( line 289 - 290, ' i'll quickly end this perverse nastiness, / this bacchic celebration. people say / some stranger has arrived, ), she looks up, gazing first at the lake before her eyes drift toward alicia. "the visit today," she says, and then follows up shortly with, "unsettling, right? too unsettling for there to be a bonfire, surely."

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED  STARTER     .ᐟ               @               CABIN  12  PORCH,               dusk,  the  day  everyone  returns  to  camp     (     JUNE  22  1977     )     —     a  funeral  cancelled,  mourning  interrupted.

her  reward  for  returning  alive  is  a  satyr  shaped  lollipop,  cherry  flavored  but  ambrosia  colored.  it  sits  in  the  pocket  of  bunny's  cheek,  jostled  around  by  the  tongue  every  so  often  —  like,  when  she  reaches  a  particularly  funny  comment  left  by  rob  or  when  an  excellent  line  (  when  they  see  you,  they  will  only  see  themselves  )  is  burned  away  by  the  singe  of  an  angry  flame.  the  paper  feels  crisp,  sharper  than  they  were  when  she  first  gave  it  to  him  (  which,  how  long  ago  was  this?  she  can  hardly  remember  handing  it  off  to  rob  —  read  this,  rob,  if  you  can  even  do  it  —  i  think  you'll  really  like  it  ). she  spares  @aresrisen  an  upward  glance,  hollowing  her  cheeks  around  the  ill - flavored  lollipop  before  flipping  another  page.  bunny  looks  back  down  without  a  word,  thumbing  a  colorful  phrase  and  committing  it  to  memory.  she  says,   “   it's  kind  of  sad,  you  know.  i  really  thought  you  had  died  on  the  quest,   ”   but  it  doesn't  sound  like  someone  who  thought  he  was  dead.  she  removes  the  lollipop  (  now  headless,  what  a  sight  )  and  chews  on  the  hard  candy,  closing  her  manuscript  and  tilting  her  head  to  the  side  in  thought. “   rob,  do  you  really  think  you're  not  a  bad  guy?   ”   she  inquires,  setting  the  (  annotated,  angrily  and  passionately  —  the  mark  of  a  good  villain  )  book  on  the  small  table  beside  her.   “   i  mean,  actually  —  nobody's  named,  technically,  in  here.  maybe  you  just   ...   relate  to  the  bad  guy.   ”

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ BIG HOUSE with @cageslip, JUNE EIGHTEENTH.

from the porch comes a steady tapping, a foot against the old, weathered floorboards, the slow exhale of a girl with cheeks burnished pink from time spent lazing about in the strawberry fields or with her back against the docks. she presses her palms against her cheeks, already warm —  half from the morning heat of the summer, half at the mere thought of traipsing around florida in the june humidity. her very group is making her left eye start to twitch. she decides not to think about it. or them. bunny stops tapping her foot in waiting and begins to pace, hoping to stain a pattern against the floor. she sees oc before she hears her, peering at her from the top of the stairs to the porch with her arms crossed. bunny starts to rummage through the bag she has packed ( with wine and cigarettes and also some wine and some cigarettes, not to mention the wine and cigarettes —  OH, and the last book oc brought for her, half read and ostentatiously marked up with her scrawled handwriting ) in search of the special wine she prepared for oc. bunny says, "i was kind of hoping you would be late —  then i could miss the fucking quest," and hands her the bottle. "it's meant to be aged, there's some drachmas at the bottom —  enhances taste or whatever, i don't now, someone in the hermes cabin said it would give you luck, i don't know if they're right. probably not."

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ ON THE STEPS OF THE BIG HOUSE with @diamondsfromcoal, NIGHTTIME ON THE SEVENTH, AFTER THE BONFIRE.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  THE DOORS ARE LOCKED, AND bunny can't decide whether it's a blessing or an obstacle. she's chewing on the inside of her cheeks while thinking of their earlier visit —  and she can feel herself unraveling, bit by bit, thinking of the mortal who came to a place he was not welcome. her legs are stretched down the stairs, her arms holding her up while she looks out at the camp from her vantage point. not that this place matters much to her, it isn't home so much as it's a hideout —  something that she feels like her peers can easily forget. this is not so much a place of heart - warming permanent residency. it is more a reminder of who they are and why they hide behind the mist, what's left of it. to perry, approaching the house, she says, "doors are locked," and it sounds bitter instead of as neutral as she's used to, so she coughs and says, "i think that bonfire wiped them out, or the whole —  visit  ...   well," she trails off. "do gods sleep, or do you think mr. d is just pretending?"

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ THE CAMP STORE with @stingraze, THE EIGHTH, AFTER DINNER.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  THOUGH IT'S STARTLING, AT TIMES, it is never much of a surprise to see banks in a place assumed to be empty. loneliness ( the kind sought after by bunny, but languished by others —  maybe banks, but she won't ask; some stones are better left unturned, bubbles left un - popped ) has gone from being an orange slice to chew on by oneself to a slice of heaven shared by two. more often than not, they are drawn to the same places, like - minded, but not same - spirited. to the forge at midnight, to the beach, to the crest of half - blood hill, intending to isolate themselves only to happen upon company. it's not as off - putting as it once was. bunny, in fact, brings at least two cigarettes whenever she goes to be somewhere by herself —  two bottles of water, two matches. she says, "fancy running into you," as she always does when going to the camp store. and following her same script, continues, "i thought this place would be empty. how unfortunate  ...  i'll make do, i suppose. cigarette?"