#plotdrop 001

If Dirk noticed the empty bed when he woke up, he didn’t think much of it. He was much more focused on the throbbing in his head and the fact that the smell of Gilderoy’s aftershave made him want to throw up. Only when he heard the rumours did he notice something was awry but even then he tried to ignore it and get on with his day. He had the fleeting thought that he was glad he hadn’t seen Xeno because he wasn’t sure he could deal with some strange controversy theory about the events, or some fantastical explanation that couldn’t be true. He wasn’t worried that he hadn’t seen his dormmate — after all, he didn’t particularly spend much time with Lovegood anyway. He had definitely gone whole Saturdays without seeing him before as Dirk had little patience for talk of nargles and crumple-horned snorkacks. Besides, Xeno might be weird but it would never have crossed Dirk’s mind that he could be in danger. It wasn’t like he was a muggleborn.

It was Flitwick who came to him in his dorm that evening. Dirk had been trying to distract himself from the stomach turning gossip of the day by reading a French novel when his Head of House entered, more serious than ever. They have identified the body. Dirk’s mind went wild with possibilities but somehow his own dormmate still didn’t occur to him until Professor Flitwick uttered his name. Even then, the news seemed to fall on deaf ears, Dirk’s only reaction an echoing in his ears, a numbness in his heart, and a horrible selfish guilt over the fact that it shocked him so much. He couldn’t stay in the dorm which felt suffocating and yet equally desolate. He bypassed the library and the Great Hall as well, food and socialising the furthest things from his mind. Instead he headed outside and sat by the lake, staring across the water with vacant eyes.

it’s early morning, sunlight is trickling into the valley where camp half-blood lies. sleeping peacefully, except for the few campers who are on border patrol. a boring job, more often than not. except when one of them sees something glistening in the cool morning sun. a sword lies at the border of camp, neatly placed under the gate like someone left it there. why? whose is it?

the first assumptions are that it’s a prank. ‘the hermes cabin at it again,’ chuckles one of the demigods who found the mysterious item. then someone gasps, ‘there’s dried blood on it’. not monster dust, but blood. on a celestial bronze sword, that’s more than suspicious.

border patrol abandons their job to bring this to chiron’s attention, the look on his face speaks volumes. he knows who this sword belongs to. or rather, belonged. as camp wakes up, and campers start crowding the dining pavilion, an announcement is made.

—— CAMP ANNOUNCEMENT

“this morning border patrol found a sword which i know belonged to dexter holt. as you’ll all surely know by now, neither heather mckinney nor aria davis brought this item back to camp. all we know at the moment is that someone placed it under the gate, and if anyone knows more about this or has seen something, we strongly urge them to come forward.

PLOT DROP #001

The night had been successful as the stragglers clambered over each other to grab the heat of the remenants of the burning flames, groups had split off, chit chatting and giggling while others sang badly out of tune. The band was begining to fade out, as happy couples walked off, some watching the stars, while others said their goodbyes.

But it all changed in a matter of seconds as shouting began, a group clambered into a brawl as bottles were thrown and cries from people standing close by could be heard. Within minutes the sound of sirens were heard, and everyone quickly dispersed, leaving only a few remaining who were willing to speak with the cops.