pleasure to meet you , [damon]

[JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE]

PLEASURE TO MEET YOU,
( but prepare to b l e e d )

A trip into the city had been what he needed. Away from the secluded, incredibly different world of Camp Half-blood and into normality once again. Even still, his memories were tainted with recollections of the time he'd been here with his mother as she frantically explained everything to him in a rush before dropping him off at the camp. She had never made it back home. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts from his mind. "There was no use coming here if I'm going to be miserable the whole time," he snapped under his breath, speaking only to himself as usual. He was alone, he didn't really have many friends in the camp, despite having been there six years of his seventeen. He got along with his cabin when he had to, like when it was detrimental to win Capture The Flag, but other than that, even they had their rough spots, often and closely spaced. He wasn't the most social of guys, and so when you decided waking him up by splashing freezing cold water on his face was funny, you'd gained yourself a formidable enemy. He hated water.

But he was here for a break, and so he couldn't dwell on thoughts of that cursed other world. It was idiotic that they had to hide everything. He was a secretive person, but even for him, this was going too. At least I finish high-school this year, he remarked to himself. And he wasn't going to university. They couldn't make him, that, at least, was optional. He hated having to attend school only to be spending the rest of the time training his abilities and killing monsters. It didn't seem right to live with a foot in each world. He wanted a choice between one or the other. Granted, he'd probably choose the world of demigods and mysteries rather than this drab mortal world, but at least he'd be able to step inside and never come back.

He sighed as, at last, he was distracted by the loud ringing of a school bell nearby. He had ditched the commercial area of shops and traffic jams for a (slightly) less crowded residential area. His trip into the city hadn't even really had a point, other than to clear his mind. What was better for the soul than pollution, both noise pollution and otherwise? He would have had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweater, had he been wearing one. But instead, he was wearing a white Alesana shirt and a pair of jeans, nothing really special. The white color choice was thanks to it being a rather warm day. Anything black would soak up the heat and boil him.

He was thinking about possibilities for what he could do for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, this also meant that he wasn't really paying attention to the world around him. He was given a rather rude jolt back into reality, however, when he bumped into someone else, quite literally. Blinking in surprise, he scowled and made to snap at the other person, but noticed quickly that he'd actually got the better end of the bargain. First of all, he'd knocked the other person over, and they hardly looked like the tough, fighting type. I'll let it slide, he decided, sticking out his hand to help the guy up. "Sorry," he said, actually sounding genuine despite the fact that he wasn't really that apologetic. "Wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?" Seemed like a nice thing to do, ask if he was okay. Joshua was hardly a nice person, but he tried to come off as nice. Facades were the base of his social life.


TAGGED; damon krupke
STATUS; done
WORD COUNT; 617
OUTFIT; CRASH, CRASH, BURN
LYRICS; thirty seconds to mars -- night of the hunter
COMMENTS; blehhh. ignore the gloves in the outfit lol. josh is kind of apathetically like "whoops" haha.
CREDIT; acadia/taylor