just a decoy dream /frank

[Chloë Gabriella Black]

Chloë blinked in the early morning sunlight, stretching her arms and turning her gaze to out the window, where dawn was just breaking. Wherever this waking-up-early funk was coming from, she didn't like it, and (after several seconds of looking at the sunrise) rolled over so her face made contact with the pillow. She'd gone to bed after midnight the night before and needed her beauty sleep, but she knew trying to go back to sleep after it was light was not going to yield results. Chloë was one of those people who couldn't go back to sleep once she'd woken up, sadly enough, and so she was up for the day. Monday had started, with a bang and a whimper.

Rolling her eyes, Chloë swung both her feet over the edge of the bed and trotted over to the bathroom. Her pajama pants were much too large for her, and the ends dragged on the floor pathetically. Her hair always looked completely nightmarish before she yanked the brush through it first thing and used some styling creme...indeed, her morning routine was a long and tedious one. It was also something she never, ever skipped. Having been raised in such a family where she was expected to look camera-ready at all times, she felt naked without bright hues of lipstick or glittering eyeshadow or articificially curled eyelashes. Makeup-free was just something that Chloë didn't do. Something that she'd never done...not in recent years, anyway. She'd started wearing makeup at the precocious age of fourth grade...or had it been third? She could barely recall the year, but she wasn't really focusing on it; she was more preoccupied with the curling of her obnoxiously shapeless hair. Why couldn't she have been born with cute little ringlets, or at least fair waves? So many girls at camp didn't give two sh!ts about their appearances, and yet they looked so perfect. And Chloë herself had to practically paint her face before she could go outside. It was just so annoying and unfair.

After curling her hair, she went on to eye makeup. The application of liquid eyeliner was an art she had never quite mastered, and the line was always thick in some places and practically nonexistent in others. And applying it with her non-dominant hand? Forget it. Eyeliner always took so long, and by the time she was finished, the other early riser of the cabin was up and asking to use the bathroom. Chloë had never quite cared for Eleanor, the daughter of Nyx, and today wasn't an exception or anything. She told her, as nicely as she could muster (but it still seemed fake), that she could have the bathroom when Chloë was done. After a shimmery layer of gold eyeshadow and the arduous process of curling her lashes until they practically stuck straight up, Eleanor asked again, and once again Chloë was in the position of having to shoot her down. She brushed the CoverGirl mascara wand back and forth until one eye was at least passable before adding several coats of Wet & Wild and then repeating the procedure with her other eye.

Concealer pen under her eyes to block out the dark circles. A bright lipstick and a gloss over that. Finally, she was ready...and — crap, she wasn't even dressed yet. Her makeup was going to smear all over her shirt once she slipped it on...but, with little choice, she stalked out of the bathroom and slipped into a Forever 21 shirt and dark red skinny jeans. Okay, so her elaborate makeup job hadn't been damaged horribly or anything. Thank the gods.

Although it couldn't be later than seven in the morning, Chloë was ready to go. She stepped into a pair of silver flats and opened the door of the Minor Gods cabin, unintentionally letting a cold gust of morning wind disturb the warm homey feeling of the building. The cold temperature was anything but comfortable, but Chloë didn't feel like going back inside to hang out with the loser Eleanor — that girl didn't own any normal clothes — or the sleeping campers who were snoozing as though there was nothing in the world worth caring about. Smirking at the less attractive campers who were still sleeping, the statuesque girl shut the door behind her and made her way to the Mess Hall. Not many campers were bound to be there at such an early hour — most preferred to sleep in — but Chloë could never seem to sleep in after eight.

Grabbing a plate and picking out the ripest strawberries along with a calorie-laden, butter-filled croissant, Chloë scraped some of the fruit into the fire and sat down at the Minor Gods table. Staring down at her plate, she speared a berry as though she had feelings against it and began to eat, suddenly ravenous.


ooc; this post turned into a Pretty Little Liars chapter XD

[Francis Black]

Frank ran from the beast that chased him. It was hard to describe; it had no eyes, five arms and it was about seven feet tall. He knew he couldn't take it on so he just kept running and running, but his legs refused to comply. It was as if he was wading through water. He eventually gave up running and he stopped, spotting a blade that was sticking out of the earth. Frank grabbed it without hesitation but when he turned to stab the beast he saw that he was no longer a beast; he was the boy that Frank had killed some time ago.

He woke up soaked in perspiration. The tranquility of the Dionysus cabin surprised him and his heart stopped racing. It was just a stupid dream, one that kept recurring but it was stupid all the same. It was starting to irritate him that he kept getting scared all the time over it. He wasn't a little kid anymore. Frank stood up and went to the bathroom, being the first one up had its perks. He washed up and combed his well kept hair. He looked like any movie star would, being so well groomed and handsome. That had pretty much nothing to do with his father though.

He threw on a shirt and tie, black slacks and a pair of polished Testonis. A lot of people would consider that too formal but to Frank it was just his usual attire, for at least back at home. He always had to look presentable because everyone expected him to be the next actor in the family. It wasn't much fair because had never wanted to be an actor himself, that's not to say that he didn't enjoy his wealth. Who wouldn't want to be rich and successful? But he wanted to be rich and successful and able to make his own life choices. He didn't want to be pushed into something.

Frank strutted out of his cabin across to the Mess Hall. He wasn't even hungry; his nightmare had caused him to lose any appetite he would have had. However, he knew it was the only place that campers would be at this time in the morning if any were up.

Once he walked in he spotted his sister, Chloë. Surprisingly he hadn't spoken to her in a while, probably due to the fact that they lived in two completely different cabins. He wished that he would have just been a legacy of Morpheus, that would have been enough for him. Instead he was a legacy and a child of Dionysus. All the kids were scared of his mind games because they knew that if he used his abilities he could drive them mad or even hear their thoughts on occasion.

Frank sat down next to her at the Minor Gods table. He couldn't care less if he wasn't supposed to - he was as worthy of sitting at the table as she was. "Hello," he smiled at his little sister. "How are you doing?"

Words: 509.