Facing Fears (Jennifer Mason and whoever else)

He liked to be alone. Alone was good, alone was his friend. And that's what he usually was, seeing as he was new and most of the other campers wanted nothing to do with him; perhaps because he himself avoided them. At any rate, Micah now sat near the outskirts of the cabin's central area, knees drawn to his chest and chin resting on them, eyes locked blankly at the buildings ahead. Strands of stray black hair fell into his face, framing his two-coloured gaze as he vacantly studied his surrounding, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

Like many, the boy was unclaimed, but unlike most it didn't bother him, mainly because his mother had been out of his life a long time and he felt no need for her to suddenly be a part of it. His father on the other hand, often popped up in the crevices mind, to which he would mentally shudder, hidding his hands in the gray hoodie he usually sported. Maybe one day he would make an effort to be accepted into the ranks of the war-ready demi-gods, but to this day he was content with watching, axe forgotten at his side, just as it was at the moment. Watch and wait and perhaps luck would bless him with the gift of friendship, though he sincerely doubted it.

Those that sit and wait are ignored by fate. Micah Remington always told himself, and he thoroughly believed in it.

((Sorry for the shortness, no muse or time, since I should be doing homework ))

When he was fixated on something, he truly was fixated on something, and was oblivious to anything happening outside his direct line of thought, including other people. With a weary sigh, he shut his eyes, imagining worlds that better suited him; no violence, no disease, no chaos in general. This kept up until the words Hi my name is Kendall and I want to say hello. echoed throughout his mind, making him subconciously frown as he tried to locate the direction of the sudden outburst in words. Hi my name is Kendall and I want to say hello... Hi my name is Kendall and I-

Breath catching his throat, Micah snapped open his eyes, wide and round with terror. Trying to scramble backwards the frightened boy stumbled over his own feet, tipping forward and thwacking his head off a tree with a wooden 'thump' sound. Landing on grass flattened by many feet before his acrobatic act, he hauled himself to his feet once more, pressing his back against the tree and staring at Kendall with the same surprised cat look as before, though this time one hand covered his bark coloured eye, rubbing the sore spot just above it. Realizing in dismay that his axe still lay by the feet of his presumed attacker, Micah began to shiver nervously, stiffening his shoulders as if preparing for more violence. "Hi.."

((-.-" Grr...I would have posted last night...but my stupid browser shut on me when I was like three sentences from being done....sorry this is kinda late :/))

Jenn had been sitting in the new cabin, doing anything and everything that she could--dancing, singing, reading, writing, drawing, and a few more things here and there. She had been sitting a chair, placed in the middle of the cabin, for a while, until her ADD became uncontrollable. The daughter of Terpsichore grabbed an Utah hoodie, as she slipped on her tennis shoes. Jennifer slipped out of her cabin, and down the stairs, as soon as her feet hit the ground, she took off in a fast-paced jog, straight for the arena.

Jenn spent some time in the arena, trying to get her ADD to become more controllable, by beating the crap out of a training dummy. When that didn't work, she ended up doing what she does when she got bored--laps around the Camp. When she was younger, the girl never thought that she would be a runner, as she had absolutely hated it, as a kid.

After about three laps around the borders of Camp Half-Blood, Jenn had finally gotten her ADD under control, and began heading back to the cabin area.

As she approached the center of the U of cabins, she saw two boys. "Hi, my name is Kendall, and I want to say hello," she faintly overheard. She slowed to a walk as she got nearer to the center, and a boy with dark hair, and eyes, that were as opposite sides of the spectrum as black and white, wide-eyed in what appeared to be fear, stumble backwards and fall with his head hitting a tree. Jenn ran over to the guy, and crouched beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked, sincerely.

The boy flung back to a tree, and began shaking, as he covered the new bruise made by a tree. His eyes were fixated on the other guy. "Hi..." he said.

Jenn stood up straight, and swayed to her left hip. "Do you know this guy?" she asked the other guy.

((Oh, that's okay ^_^ I'm not exactly the quickest at replying, either.))

This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid... Contact with others was borderline, but feeling cornered against a tree by a stranger who now had his weapon in grasp was, well, horrid. Everytime something like this happened, his banished insanity saw a chance and swept into the darkest crevice of his mind, hence the shuddering against the tree. And probably thanks to that flash of total anxiety, Micah also missed the appearance of yet another camper, though this time he just froze like stone when he did notice her. Cocking his head to the side in order to keep tabs on his original adversary, the boy locked his contrasting gaze upon the girl who had spoken seemingly jibberish, studying her for any signs of danger. Coming up with nothing, he locked his eyes on her face, eyebrows furrowing warily. What had she been doing before, and why had she decided to come here now? Were they all out to get him?

"..." Having opened his mouth to say something, Micah just closed it in defeat, not able to force any sounds out of him. So instead, he just hid his hands in the sleeves of the grey American Eagle sweater he was wearing and began fumbling nervously with it's seams, optics still fixated on the girl and hearing still intent on the other boy. If this was some sort of planned attack, which he certainly believed it was, then it was working. They really had him cornered now; a tree behind, and two camper's, one on the left one on the right.

'Oh joy', he thought rather drily, inspite of the inner turmoil that was currently numbing his mind, wanting him to choose between running or fighting. 'Neither, you're trapped like a hamster in a cage!' a voice perked up, followed by a chorus of arguing people, except for the fact that it was all in his head. With a frustrated hiss, the dark headed boy removed his hand from the forming bruise and bleeding gash on his forehead, letting a stabbing pain race through his veins before bringing the same hand back against it, "Shut up!"