Some Princes Start As Frogs [Reg/Evie]

[Reg Mist Darkwood]

It was a cool day. Rain poured form the clouds lumbering around the camp. It felt strange to hear it, see it, yet not be felt by it. Regan stood at the edge of the woods, staring as rain dropped infront of him, yet didn't splatter him at all. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning struck in several places. And unlike most, Regan knew that it was worse then possible power-outage. The gods where angry. A large strike of white-hot lightning struck a few feet beside the tall boy. This sent him stumbling back several steps. Normally, he would have caught himself. But today, his foot caught a root and he fell. Obviously, his luck was just going to get worse, because on the way down, his arm snagged a branch and it sliced a cut into him.

He sat on the ground for a few seconds. Crap. Jamie was going to make fun of him like there was no tomorrow. Reg sat up and examined his arm. It wasn't that bad. It wasn't terribly deep, but it's jagged edge went from his shoulder down to his elbow. Scarlet blood ozzed from the wound. Reg took of his shirt and wrapped it around the cut, then got up and started walking. He imagined Jamie saying something like, "Smoooooth, laxative. You cut yourself on a tree. Niiiiiice." but Reg shook the thoughts out. So what if Jamie was going to make fun of him? It wouldn't be the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. Regan himself was just waiting for when he could make fun of Jamie for something. A little payback. Not that he despised James, and spent every waking moment thinking of ways to destroy him. No, it was just a friendly (or brotherly?) rivalry they had going.

Reg stumbled out of the woods. Since his shirt was off, a bunch of girls and one guy (awwwwkwarrrd) was giving him looks. Everything from a flirty smile to just staring at him for a second. Although, he didn't see why. Sure, he had a six-pack, but it was nothing to flip out over. His thoughts consumed him as he walked over to the infirmary. His train of thought went from flirty girls, to Julyetta, to Eva (or Evie or Liegh or whatever), to just dating in general. Hewas thinking about asking Evie out soon, but nothing seemed to be the right time. Most girls (possibly including Evie?) wanted a special, moon-lit dinner and a movie or some crap. But hello, they where in the middle of camp! There wasn't exactly a bunch of date places at his command. I mean, he wanted to do something special, but what exactly could he do but be like, "hey, Evie, do you want to go out with me?" and that wasn't that "romantic".

Gods, why did females have to be so complicated?

[Evaleighann O'Brian]

For a girl who was terrified of water, Evaleighann O'Brian loved the rain. Why? because she couldn't drown in it. Plain and simple.


Those were words that actually described Evie to a T. That afternoon she had been in the forges--as usual-- working on a project for the armory. When the thunder and lightening started up, though, the rest of her brothers and sisters had fled back to the Big House or their cabin. Which was fine with her. She pulled off her paint spattered overalls and shook her mass of red curls free from the bandanna that normally covered them.


Dressed now in just a green tank top and a pair of denim cut offs, Evie stepped outside into the torrential downpour that started. Gods the droplets of water felt good against her overheated skin. Glancing right, and then left, Evie noticed that there was a crowd down a ways but nobody was looking in her direction. So feeling a bit giddy she threw her arms open wide and spun in a circle as the water drenched her. Bell like laughter bubbled over her lips and she spun faster, enjoying the play of rain over her cool limbs. She debated running and jumping into the large mud puddle that had formed near where the Aphrodite girls had huddled to protect their precious hair from the dangers of frizz and water, but changed her mind as something else caught her eye.


Oh...My...Gods...


Regan was shirtless and rushing towards the infirmary. While Evie did take advantage of the bare chested-ness to check him out, (She was Irish, not dead) What kept her gaze held was the long, jagged and bleeding gash on his arm.


Her giddyness evaporated like the water off her firey curls and Evie dashed over to Reg's side. "Och! Regan--wha'happened to ya Luv? 'ere, lemme help ya o'er to the forge-- ya look like someone or somet'ing took a nasty bite from yer arm. Don' wanna get infected, now, aye?"


Gently, Evie slid her shoulders beneath Reg's uninjured arm and led him inside the forge. The air was dry and hot in there, but they were always stocked with first aid kits galore.
Grabbing one, Evie began to unroll some gauze and disinfectant. Her green eyes were filled with concern, and as the heat from the forges dried her tank and shorts, they clung to every curve of her long lean frame. She knealt down next to Regan and winced.


"T'is may sting a mite." Evie warned before spraying the disinfectant over the cut. Just as quickly, she wound the gauze around his arm with gentle fingers. "Deeja take a tumble, or come cross a beastie?"[/color]