Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2013 23:56:12 GMT -8
Uriel had a knack for grand things.
As his father always told him, time and time and time again "Go big, or go home. If you ain't first, you're last." That principle of life was never lost on Uriel. He often tried to achieve that place. Hence why he was at his position. An elder member of Camp Half Blood, with some responsibilities trusted only to him. Such as handling and keeping Greek Fire, and other poisonous materials as well as remaking them. Alchemist and Herbalist extraordinaire, yes. But at the same time, Uriel valued his skill with this little battle strategy, as they called it. Though, Uriel would admit that he was mostly kept at the backstage as a hidden asset, he did enjoy some of his field jobs as well. Enough that it got him an early "retirement' in questing. Or at least that is what he thought. Maybe they found Uri old. He wouldn't blame them. There were people a lot stronger and maybe even faster than him. He doubted if they had the sheer wit and affinity he had for deceiving and intrigue, though.Because he had the silver tongue and the extremely sharp wit to bring about possibly the first solid alliance between two camps. The Norse and the Greeks!
Uriel gave the thought a bitter laugh. Yes. A little alliance that would be based on deceit and tailored words. A treaty that would not serve both of the camp's benefits but only his, and his lover's alone. Ellie was genius. Or rather, they were geniuses when they formulated plans together. One that would be so vile that it would fool the two camps, thinking that their purpose was to make peace, but in reality, their two representatives were not going to do anything but make out and make love all night, when they're supposed to be having peace talks.
Well, Uriel could think of remedying the situation. It was not as if him and Ellie haven't talked about what's best for their camp. That wasn't just the main purpose. But still ,it was discussed when they would have their nice secret dates. Even now, Uriel was making sure that their plan was flawless. For he e sat, on his wooden chair. His head tilted to the side, with his left hand supporting it's weight. Reading glasses would've been seen on his eyes, while he wrote on a black parchment. Crimson coloring, and can be best described as blood-hued was the color of his ink, written from the tip of his inscribing quill. A quill that looked like a tail feather from a flamingo. What was odd however, was the intensity of how he wrote. Uriel wrote with much precision and speed, and the characters he were writing were in ancient Greek. It was as if his brain was hay-wired to do such. And as the quill traced a line with the blood -red ink, it sizzled and smoked ,as if the paper was being grazed by fire ,and each character was being inscribed with heat, while the parchment was largely unharmed. It could be best said that the characters were REALLY inscribed into the parchment, to avoid forgery. But even then, you would ask "How can a Norse, an Egyptian or a Roman read Ancient Greek?" Uriel thought of that exact problem ,as to why the ink he used was special. it shifted and translated the text it was used on to a readable one.
With a flourish of his wrist, the page of the treaty was done. The smoke faded, and what was written was the full details between two of them. This is what Uriel excelled at. Contracts, Politics, Intrigue! He may not have been the best combatant, but he knew how to overcome the tides in his favor to win. Even if the treaty was nothing but false belief, It was a prop to their elaborate play. Oh how he loved this woman. With a fold in the front, the three page parchment was reduced to the size of a small envelope. And Uriel need only to put his seal on it.
PSSSST!
The sound that the wax made as it was embedded on the front of the treaty. This must have been his finest work yet. Perhaps, if by some miracles he manage to sway the Norse, his treaty would be compared to the Declaration of Independence. Such dreams for a young man. Uriel thought. But alas, that preparation was only half of what he needed to prepare. For today he held a much greater event than the possible alliance of two powerful camps, to form a much greater power. For today, was...his first date.
First dates. Alright. Uriel lost his virginity before he ever gone on a date. But he wasn't nervous. he showed that he could please Ellie. This was just mere formalities for them to be considered "together." He very much known what they were. As Uriel sat his quill on his mahogany desk, he stood up and walked towards the drawer, just at the center of the long shelves, filled with potions and other herbal ingredients in bottles. With a snap of his finger, the closet went open, and the only suit there was seen. Just a plain black suit that looked fifty years old. Oh no. That wouldn't work, now would it? Uriel swiftly grabbed the garment and set it down on the floor. He hopped across the shelves, and among t the glowing and very unique different types of elixirs, powders and creams, Uriel picked out three. One encased in a birch vial, one in a potion pitcher, and one in a flask. He immediately set it down on the counter of his cabin, before thinking "Alright, I don't like Black....It needs a bit more of..." he spoke, before grabbing the flask, and pouring it on the suit. The Alchemist Demigod seemed mad as first, as what seemed like paint splattered all over his suit. Yet, as he empty the flask, the paint-like substance started to dry, it's color permanently cover itself on the suit, A re-paint job. Now, the suit looked much more modern, with a tinge of gray occupying it. But it still had the willowy feeling dwelling, as if cobwebs formed on it's interior. With this, he grabbed the pitcher, and poured it's contents on the suit, a bit in long drops and stops, not a full emptying. As the pink liquid hit his suit, it's seemed to glow brighter, though subtly. As if the fabric' was being brought back the years, being reinvigorated. As the pitcher went empty, Uriel looked as if he had the newest Armani suit.
After a minute of slipping into his modified suit, Uriel grabbed the vial and poured a drop on his suit, and on it's inside, before pouring another drop on hi neck. Suddenly, the smell of cinnamon started to subtly twirl around his body. Ah, magic. He truly did love his mother. And as of on cue, a black paper plane went flying in his room, twirling around the light before it morphed back into a raven. The raven perched on his suit and pecked at his head. And chirped as well, albeit excitedly. "Ah, she got the message, then? Good job. Your treat is on the side." The bird chirped and flew to his desk, pecking at the bird food. He smiled. Ellie would've received the opposite of what he did. A raven would have flied into her room have she allowed it, and it would've morphed into a paper plane. If she unfolds it, it would've contained the information as to where they would meet, her attire, but he wasn't going to give everything away. Oh no. Not after he had to dig through his latest heist to make this date possible.The edge of Uriel's lips curled into a smile .Every call he had to make ,every favor he had to ask to be repaid, every cent was worth it. he just hoped that the Perfect Date for him would be the Perfect Date for His Perfect Girl. Easily, as swift as the shadows, Uriel slipped out of his cabin, to the borders of camp, where their first ride waited. The Sleek White Aston-Martin One-77. As he got into the driver's seat and zoomed off to pick her up, he could only wish that she won't ask where he got the car. it would be embarrassing to say that his ex' girlfriend' (Who he had a one night stand with) gave him the car to try and repair their relationship. But it's alright. Uriel paid her anyway. As he drove, Uriel patted the envelope by his suit's pocket. Maybe she would be interested in the contents of their treaty.