Volleyball, what a strange sport. Paris observed the ball in his hands as he took in the hexagon like pattern that surrounded the ball. He followed the black lines that cut across the ball and separated the white. There were fifteen individual hexagons. He found that annoying. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves he really did hate odd numbers. Why couldn't people count in two's and skip all odd numbers. It would make his life much easier. He grabbed the other ball he had, and counted. This was had 12 hexagons. That was much better. He kicked the odd numbered ball away, not really caring where the demon ball landed.

He began to hit the ball up in the air. Since he currently had no partner, he hit in place making sure it went straight up and came back down. He counted. "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8...." he continued doing this. It was oddly soothing to fall into such a easy pattern. What ever stress he may have had before, melted away at in the calming pattern. Although it would be better if someone were here to play with, or even just to talk to. One after all was such a lonely number.

He decided to move a bit, while hitting the ball. This forced him to count his steps and the ball hits. This was probably a bad idea because the next think he knew, he ran into the volleyball net and was knocked off his feet and fell on his back. The ball fell, but his hand quickly moved to catch it before it popped him in the face. Well that was embarrassing, he thought.

Whilst wandering the camp grounds earlier that day, Pixie had found that she had rather been everywhere. All except for the Volleyball court and the lava climbing wall thing which she refused to visit until further notice. That was how, after running to her cabin to change into proper clothes she had ended up at the volleyball court. Pixie, in essence might have not been the best at sports, unless you were talking soccer. But as far as volleyball was concerned, she wasn't the best. Maybe if she ever took the time out to practice the sport she would have been better, and maybe that was something to think about doing more often.

Either way, good at the sport or not, she was here, approaching the court now. That was, until she saw someone, and rather slowed down her pace a bit. Until she came to a full stop, and what she was doing was not spying, it might have been considered lurking which was not really any better then spying. But in Pixie's own little word, it just wasn't as bad. But for a few moments, she was just confused. From where she was standing, the counting was barely heard for a moment, then she just stopped trying to hear it, maybe she was finally going mad. Hopefully not, but she wouldn't even think about dismissing the thought. From what she had gathered so far, she didn't know this boy, nor did she know what he was doing, but what she did know was that one minute he was on his feet and the next he was on his back. Ouch.

Just then was when Pixie decided to stop her lurking game and walk over to see if he was alright. Coming up beside him she looked down with a slightly tilted head. "Are you okay?" she asked the boy, holding out her hand. It really was awful when volleyball nets went all ninja on people. It was just like when you texted and walked, and eventually a pole or a tree would go all ninja in the exact same way.

Aside from getting the wind knocked out of him a little, Paris was fine. He was far too used to falling to be too troubled by it. He was amazed that he had never broken a single bone in his life. Now he wondered if that had to do with being a part god. Anyway, he was just glad nobody was around to see it. His heart dropped when he heard someone approach. He counted there steps as they approached him.

He looked up to see a pretty girl standing over him, offering to help him up. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He did not get embarrassed very often. If he got embarrassed every time he fell, his face would always be red. But add a girl in the mix and he was bound to blush.

"I'm okay," he said taking her hand so he could get up. Once standing he shook out his shirt, dusted off his pants and shook his hair to get off all the sand. He smiled. "Thank you, for asking though". He let his smile fall as he recalled that he always smiled crooked. A crooked smile was not even. So he tried his best not to smile too much. Often they came without him even trying or thinking about it. He ran his fingers through his hair to make sure he got out all the sand.

He looked at the ball that had so nearly hit him in the face. "Uh, do you want to play?"

The pure fact that whoever she was helping up was blushing, kind of was enough to make Pixie grin. It was always a good time when someone blushed, it was just always really cute. Backing up a bit to kind of pull him up, she let go of his hand once he was back on his feet. "You sure?"she questioned, he had said that he was alright, and it looked like he was just fine. Apart from the slight sand clinging to the boy's clothes. Still, better safe then sorry. She let her eyes scan him for any injury, it hadn't looked like that hard a fall, but still...

She just nodded when he thanked her and twiddled with her fingers, a habit that had recently begun to develop with her for some strange reason. She really had been doing it a lot lately, which was weird.. oh well, she would deal with that annoying little habit later. "Um. Sure! I will warn you, I am not the best at volleyball. and I haven't really played much, or you know, hardly at all at that. But I could definitely try!" she said happily. Turning to bounce off to the other side of the net.

"I'm Pixserie by the way, but you can call me Pixie, or Pix, or Pixel. They all work" She introduced with a smile. She had way too many names.... and she might have slightly been talking too much...... again.

Now that he was perfectly content that he had gotten all the sand off, he focused more on the girl in front of him. He did not believe he had her data in his notebook. At the moment, he did not even have his notebook to record her information. He'd just have to memorize it and add it to his list later.

He smiled reassuringly. "Oh don't worry. I haven't played the game much myself." He looked at the net. "You did see me get knocked over by a net, right? I have the grace of a bull in a china shop. You will probably mop the floor with me. " This was sure. Paris had never been good at sports. He liked to think of it as his balance. Without sounding vain, he had to admit he was pretty awesome with his hands.

To counterbalance the skill of his hands, the gods had apparently made sure that his feet had no such talent. If he managed to stay upright without falling he'd be lucky. He was fairly sure that playing a game of volleyball would end in disaster for him. But, he had offered a game and now he must go through with it. He never went back on his word when it came to such things.

He flicked the ball so it landed on the tip of his finger and began to spin it. A huge smile came to his face when he heard she had four different names she went by. He decided to go with the second one she had offered. "I shall call you Pixie then. You can call me Paris or Troy, whichever suits your fancy." He positioned himself, trying to figure out where to place his feet. "Uhhh, are you ready?"