Forum Thread
Summer's Requiem
Forum-Index → Roleplay → Summer's RequiemDate: July 3rd, 2022
Two weeks. It's been two weeks and still nothing.
I've looked everywhere but Illie's still missing and the hearth is cold. I can't talk with Mother anymore and everyone expects me to fix the hearth. The only oddity that I found was a crack in the floorboards, yet I hesitate to point any fingers. It seems almost too convenient for such a clue to be situated so close to the hearth, hidden under the carpet. However, it is the only sign that an outside force has tampered with the sacred fire. If something truly did emerge from that fissure and steal away the two lights I have in this camp, then I fear that even the protection of the hearth may not shield them from an untimely demise.
With each passing day, my patience with Chiron grows thinner and thinner. He refuses to send anyone out to investigate or even look for Illie, instead choosing to wait for a prophecy or a message from the gods while insisting that the camp continues as it always had. Each minute we waste sitting on our hands is a moment when the world grows colder and colder. Tomorrow, if nothing has happened yet, I shall go to Cassandra myself and beg for a prophecy. I am not above lowering myself if it means getting something done.
Closing his diary, Alaparos sighed through his nose. The tension that he had carried with him since the beginning of this incident was concentrated within his stiff shoulders and down turned lips. It was an oddity to see the Son of Hestia so downtrodden yet the atmosphere at camp was undeniably gloomy. Despite the best efforts of various campers to keep up the cheer, things were grim. How could things not when a camper was missing and disaster was on the horizon? Despite the brightly shining sun and clear suns, it mind as well be cloudy with thunder rumbling faintly. Running a hand over his face, Alaparos gently patted his cheeks in an effort to re-center himself. There was little he could do right now and stewing over it wouldn't help anyone. Gently rolling out of the cozy sitting room in which the cold ashes of the once brightly lit hearth resided, Alaparos let the well oiled wheels of his wheelchair clatter over the loose boards of The Big House patio.
Hilariously, he had been out in the sun more in these past two weeks than he ever had been in the past two years. It hurt a bit, basking in a perpetual reminder of what he had failed to protect, but he enjoyed the warmth for what it was worth. Watching the still novel sight of campers running around camp doing their daily chores, Alaparos toyed with his dog tags. One of Hecte's children had her callused hands curled around a steaming mug, occasionally sipping from it, while one Tethis' blessed set up the docks whilst greeting the creatures of the lake. Although it was a unremarkable day, mundane in its repetitive motions there was still underlying tensions that buzzed throughout the camp. Something big was coming, he could feel it, but the anticipation was killing him.
-Sun Tsu, The Art of Gaming
oh hey what's this
Suvansh hated it, but he could do nothing but wait in anticipation with the other campers, and try to continue his normal routine. So he went for breakfast, towards the Dinning Pavilion, as usual, just that there was no spirit in the demigods, with minimal chatter about. He burnt offerings as per the ritual, and sat on the Hephaestus table with a few of his siblings, but none talked a word, just kept glancing at each other nervously. Being the eldest present, Suvansh wanted to console his siblings, that all was good, but he didn't even know how true that was- and couldn't get himself to speak.
This awesome art and Avatar is made by Grietine! Visit her deviantart.
After a few minutes of work, the cabin was clean enough that he could consider it finished for now. He was running a little late anyways, so it wasn't like he had much of a choice. He slipped on his jacket and headed out the door, picking up the pace so he would make it on time. He was strangely hungry, which only encouraged him to get there quicker. He grabbed his plate and made an offering to the gods, throwing in a prayer for the future. He couldn't help but to be impatient with them, since there was pretty much no reponse from them no matter how hard anyone tried. He then went to his table and began to eat, quietly watching his siblings as they did whatever they were normally doing. It was weird being the oldest of the group, considering that every child of the goddess of fortune would seem like they would live to be older. Well, there were only about 10 of them so it wasn't hard to believe the ages were largely spread out. His interest was currently fixed on a game of cards two of the older ones were playing, since that was the only thing going on at this table. Even being extremely lucky had no effect on how a game was played, as some would be luckier than others. Throughout his years of being a camper, he had learned that some children inherented more of their godly parent's power than others, and Quinn was lucky enough to be one of them. While it wasn't as neat as being a fire wielder as an offspring of hephaestus, he could at least control luck, and quite a bit of it too. Some were just a bit luckier than the average mortal, which wasn't exactly the most impressive. He quickly finished his meal and silently sat as he watched the tables around him when the card game finished, thinking to himself in the process.
-Sun Tsu, The Art of Gaming
oh hey what's this
Under the soft light of the ever sunny skies, Alaparos looked a bit like a mess. He hadn't bothered to clean himself up much, resulting in unconcealed eye bags and slightly disheveled hair. It was clear that he wasn't doing too well but the stiff posture he held while wheeling through camp was enough for the others to understand that he hadn't given up yet. If anything, his rumpled appearance was a sign that he was still searching, harder than ever.
As he pushed himself forward, someone fell into step beside him. Glancing up, he was surprised to see the dark chocolate skin of Cassandra, the Oracle offering the other a wry smile. "You just looked like you needed some company." She explained, taking the handles of Alaparos' wheelchair with his permission and the two chatted in low tones all the way to the pavilion. With neither of them having designated tables, they simply found a place out of the way to set their bags down before grabbing something to eat. As was the case every day, Alaparos scrapped half a portion of Moussaka into the fire for his Mother, offering the traditional food that so often reminded him of her warm presence, and offered the best portions of his plate to the other gods.
He was about to return to their claimed spot when the crashing fall of cutlery and plates had him jerking his head to his side. Behind him, Cassandra's golden eyes were nothing but thin rings as a sickly green mist spilled out from her slack jaw. Watching with thinly disguised relief and trepidation, Alaparos clenched and unclenched his hands, waiting almost impatiently for the long awaited prophecy to come. If anything, even if it didn't pertain to anything that was happening, it was an opportunity to get out there and figure out what was wrong. He didn't have to wait for very long as the thick mist enveloped the entire pavilion, rolling green clouds brushing against his ankles. Despite being so close to her, Alaparos couldn't even see Cassandra, making the rattling wheeze of the Oracle all the more unnerving as it hissed out the newest quest.
The Sun will be your cost
With Wisdom on your heel
Strife and Luck be your wheel
And craft with Fire and Spell
The Hearth will lead to Hell
Before winter's final kiss
Deny blinding love's bliss
Lest we take our final rest
When Dawn fades without protest
Poisoned by frozen Storge"
With a final shuddering wheeze, a thump was heard and slowly the mist began to disperse. As the fog lifted, revealing the stunned faces of the gathered campers, Alaparos hurriedly wheeled over to where Cassandra had collapsed, dragging her prone form onto his lap. Glancing around at the other frozen campers, he grimaced at their inactivity. "Someone get a stretcher and get the poor girl into the infirmary." He commanded, strong voice breaking through the stagnant silence.
His adrenaline rush faded just as Alaparos broke the sudden silence, and he decided to go forth and help, but noticed that the fork in his hand had melted. And that there were burn marks on the table. And that his hands were glowing. He hadn't discovered this ability of his for long now, and a big inconvenience of having an underdeveloped power is not being able to control it under strong emotions, like excitement and anger. Ok, kinda-fire-punching that monster once was cool and all, but it causes him problems left and right, like the melted fork in his hand right now. Though being a son of Hephaestus made his skin resistant to fire, the metal of the fork solidifying on his hands would be a problem, so he carefully molded it into the shape of a ball, poured some soda onto it to cool it, and put it into his backpack. And by the time he was done, the new camper, who he didn't really know yet, had taken Cassandra away. With nothing else to do, Suvansh just sat about waiting for things to move on, thinking about the prophecy.
This awesome art and Avatar is made by Grietine! Visit her deviantart.
-Sun Tsu, The Art of Gaming
oh hey what's this
⯮ ──────── 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐍
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 ──────── ⯮
> location; night watch tower, dining pavilion
> tags; alaparos, cassandra, dezerae
> mentioned; quinn
> godly parent; hecate
> wc; 2,073
⯮ ─────────────────────────────── ⯮ix
Up in the treetops, nursing her mildly
lukewarm mug of bergamot tea, the daughter of Hecate gazed upon the
unmoving evergreen boughs that surrounded Camp Half Blood’s with a
dull gaze, icy eyes worn empty by a fatigue she refused to
acknowledge. Part of her boredom aroused from the general
assumption that there was nothing to look for, that no matter how
many times she ascended the ladder, she would find nothing. This
day proved to be no different. The air was ripe with the promise of
autumn on the horizon, and the leaves around her were still clad in
their summertime gowns of luscious emerald; nevertheless, it was
brisk enough to allow short sleeves and looser fabrics which flowed
loosely around her form. She glanced down at her hands as she bent
to take another sip. Wan skin, calloused and coarse from weapons
and fighting, stared back up at her. Muted melancholy of citrus,
lemon and a slight dash of cream burst over her tongue, laying like
a heavy blanket over her conscience. Fallon would always have those
times when she couldn’t repress her brooding thoughts, the
memories. Sometimes, it haunted her in the morning, or at night.
Her mind whispered of what she had done, like a strung-up
marionette, a puppet on strings. Stop it. Fallon shifted restlessly on
her cot, strands of her ebony hair occasionally falling in front of
her face. I don't care about what
happened in the past - that’s irrelevant. She forcibly
returned her attention to the boughs below, body nearly swaying
from the force of exhaustion weighing on her. Her eyebrows were
very heavy, almost as if they were laden with molasses,> location; night watch tower, dining pavilion
> tags; alaparos, cassandra, dezerae
> mentioned; quinn
> godly parent; hecate
> wc; 2,073
⯮ ─────────────────────────────── ⯮ix
That was, of course, the crux of the matter, as well as the one-size-fits-all answer. For the past few weeks, she had been trying to sort through the facts and separate them from mere rumor. Given how much sleep she got on most nights, however, it was no easy task. Fallon was already convinced that this monster, whatever or whoever it may be, did not come in through the borders of the camp. Otherwise, there would’ve surely been more witnesses, more campers hurt, more noticeable damage. If there was something out there, something coming, she would deal with it. But the only damn thing anyone found was a crack in between the floorboards, as if that was enough to go by. They might as well consort with ghosts. Perhaps everything bad came in threes: missing camper, no flame, and Chiron’s silence. It’s like he’s hiding something from us- on purpose. The thought didn’t comfort her, especially because whenever the underworld got involved, trouble tended to follow on its heels like an obedient dog.
With a sardonic twist of the mouth downwards, she decided that her night watch was at an end. Fallon’s abilities waxed and wane with the tides of the night. The stroke of midnight had long passed - leaving her nearly mortal in the daylight. She strode towards the ladder that led to the ground, floorboards creaking under her step. Swinging her body with practiced grace that indicated she had done this a many times before, she moved down the rungs, her hands and feet moving with easy tandem. Landing gracefully on her feet, she took a moment to stifle a yawn before beginning her trek towards the center of camp. Night watch, and the vigilance it demanded, was draining. But if there was truly something out there, Fallon wanted to be among the first to know about it. As she made her presence known, she was met with dozens of gazes fixating on her, most of them hostile. When the hearth went out, everyone had started pointing fingers. She’d seen this before, of course. With the current lack of information, it was impossible to put a finger on the culprit. Fallon tried not to look like it was bothering her - she had always been a bit of an outcast since she came to this camp. The other campers were only becoming vocal about it now. She strode through the whispers hissing like snakes around her — Oh look who it is…You think she had anything to do with it? What, of course, she did - didn’ja hear…she, and that other one…daughter of hecate, it’s all witchcraft you know? She’s just bad luck…stay away from her — and filtered them out. There were too many rumors for her to feel annoyed anymore. It was simply too much effort. Judging by the time, it was clearly long past waking time. The crowd was thinning out, most making their way to the dining pavilion. For lack of a better thing to do, she followed. Never mind the fact that she usually took her meals in her quarters.
Fallon sought out Alaparaos, and it wasn’t too hard to find him in the middle of the dining pavillion, ever bound to his wheelchair. Anyone would mistake his expression for pure serenity, but she knew that he was taking this harder than ever. The camper who had disappeared - Ilmatar, a child of Apollo - had been close to Al, so it was understandable that this quest seemed almost personal. Fallon grimaced slightly when he turned to face her, a welcoming smile on his lips. He was always unconditionally kind, a trait that endeared him to many of the newer campers.
"There’s nothing out of the ordinary.” Fallon reported dryly. “Not a speck of movement unless you count the wildlife.” She couldn’t bear long the emptiness in his eyes, the disappointment, so she left him where he was after he murmured a soft affirmation, as well as a reminder to get some more sleep. Oh, hark who’s talking. If I’m not getting enough sleep, then what does that make you? Fallon grumbled sarcastically to herself, meaning the words a lot less than it may seem. Al looked terrible in his eyes, his usually vibrant sun-given glow muted and sickly-looking. Cassandra, who had been positioned near Alaparos’s wheelchair, glanced up, but she quickly looked away after mumbling something about being fine and simply going to grab a bite. Being open was not one of her strengths, and this was something she had no intention of fixing. Her pickings from the food weren’t extravagant by any means, but it was indeed suitably substantial. Sitting herself down on a bench and tucking into the food, she allowed herself a soft sigh of pleasure. Say what you may about Alaparos’s physical state, his cooking remained as rich as ever. (Or maybe it was because she was absolutely starving.) In between bites, she snuck glances at the Oracle, watching mostly for unusual behavior. Chatter flowed and ebbed in her presence, most of the other campers trying to pay as little attention to her as possible. It had only been two weeks since the hearth went out, so suspicion was high. Fallon focused on her food. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave.
A loud crash drew her attention from her food, sending a sharp shock through the air and making her jump. At first, she assumed that it was just a clumsy camper, but the source of the noise eliminated that option. Her posture became ramrod straight when she saw Cassandra being levitated in the air by some invisible force, her distinctive optic features drowned out by a green haze. Fallon nearly jumped when the mist spread all around the cabin, covering the floor, hiding her ankles from view. The oracle was completely hidden from view, not even revealing the contours of her silhouette. Fallon had never been witness to such a sight, but in her bones, she knew almost instinctively what this meant. Finally...a prophecy. "To seek what has been lost Cassandra wheezed, as if her very lungs were failing her for sharing such a burden with the campers. Nevertheless, she continued. The Sun will be your cost, With Wisdom on your heel. Strife and Luck be your wheel. And craft with Fire and Spell. The Hearth will lead to Hell. Before winter's final kiss. Deny blinding love's bliss. Lest we take our final rest. When Dawn fades without protest. Poisoned by frozen Storge."
Oh...That's a lot to unpack. Before she forgot, Fallon took out a leather-bound tome, the same with which she used to inscribe notes about the night watch, and wrote it down. Strangely, she found that she was strangely inclined to capitalize certain words, namely those mentioned in the way of subjects. It was no accident. Her ideas regarding the meaning of the prophecy were ... quite vague. Her prophecy delivered, Cassandra was released from that strange hold, her body coming to rest none too gently on the ground with a loud thud. But Fallon didn't see the Oracle's rather pathetic state. What she did see was about a fifth of the campers present staring directly at her. Others were fixated on Quinn — which made sense, given that he was the son of Tyche, goddess of luck. Craft with Fire and Spell. Was Spell referring to her, or the children of Hecate with whom she shared her cabin? Or just the mist-walkers alone? Fallon's skin crawled uncomfortably under all the attention, especially when she heard gossip springing up again. Alaparos had been jolted out of his stupor when the strange episode began, and he was quick to take charge. Addressing the camp as a whole, he ordered them to bring Cassandra to the infirmary, his strong voice giving him a distinctive bearing of authority. Swallowing gratefully at the opportunity to take her leave, Fallon seized the opportunity to assist the girl, despite not possessing an altruistic bone in her body. Before she had even taken a few paces, someone else moved in front of her, taking charge of the opportunity. Striking indigo hair that was very nearly garish flashed in front of her eyes, and she recognized her cousin Dezerae - son of Eris. She grimaced at his enthusiasm, knowing full well that trouble tended to follow eagerly on his heels like his shadow. He didn't go looking for trouble, obviously, but trouble always found him. We don't need any more surprises today.
Turning on her heels, she addressed Alaparos, "I better go with him. Don't worry, I'll clean up my stuff when I get back." Without even waiting for an affirmation, she yanked open the door after the fast-retreating form of her cousin, his conspicuous hair-color giving him away easily. In a few swift bounds, she caught up with him, a stern but not unkind look on her face. "Dezerae, slow down, I'm coming with. You're going to get lost." The intent behind her words greatly reduced the prominent sting of her words. She wasn't known for being nice after all. Around her family, she had no problem using their deity-given names instead of the mortal ones. Taking his shoulder, she steered him firmly towards the left hallway, not wanting him to get turned around. If there was one thing that Fallon had learned through and through from her father, it was that family is the only consistency you can have in life. "You don't get to pick your family, but you do get to choose how you treat them. Sometimes, you may not agree with your family. You squabble, you bicker, you fight. You'll see many things pass out of your life. Items will break, friends and coworkers will be taken down diverging paths... Family isn't one of the things that goes away. Those people who share your blood, they're there for life, whether you like it or not. You might as well treat them well, or tolerate them at least. They're one of the things you can always go back to, because they know you would do the same for them." Unconsciously, her gaze drifted to the rune marking on her left forearm, a permanent marking of her mortal family and allegiances. Part of her wondered what her father did when she was away. Who took her position? Did he even remember her?
"So, where were you this morning? I didn't see you or Cataneme when I came back." Fallon asked when she was sure he was going in the right direction. Cataneme was one of her other cousins, the daughter of Achlys who didn't nearly posses the right attitude befitting her parentage. "Were you hiding in your cabin again?"
Cataneme is just... Cataneme.
"So, where were you this morning? I didn't see you or Cataneme when I came back." This caused Dezerae to do a quick stutter-step.
"Well.." Their silence made about as good of an excuse as Dezerae could come up with.
"Were you hiding in your cabin again?" Dezerae flushed bright red, biting back their cough of embarrassment with being found out.
"Uhm.. Yeah." They waited for Fallon to respond, if she was going to, a nervous edge crawling into their mind. "Watch your step, by the way. You're near me. I don't want to have to carry both of you to the infirmary." Dezerae nodded to the Oracle in his arms, who seemed... Comfortable enough, for being coma-like in condition at the very moment.
While pointing fingers wasn't something that Alaparos took pleasure in, with what clues that he had found in the big house and the prophecy itself, it was clear that the underworld had a connection to everything that was going on. Why else would there be a line explicitly talking about the Hearth leading them to Hell? Some lines simply didn't make any sense. A Poisoned Storge, a twisted natural love. What a mystery that was. And what did it mean to have Wisdom on your heel and Strife and Luck be your wheel? Sure it rhymed but what kind of nonsense was that? In general the lines in the prophecy didn't sit quite right with him. Of course it sounded world ending but again so were most prophecies. What exactly rubbed him the wrong way, he couldn't quite explain, but he knew that it wouldn't be as simple as it advertised itself as.
With extra food piled on his plate, Alaparos wheeled himself towards the big house. A talk with Chiron would be inevitable but it didn't mean that he was looking forward to it.
As the crowd in the pavillion thinned, Suvansh debated whether he should stay around a bit more, go forth to check on Cassandra, or to go towards the big house, where Al had been headed to. Going back to his cabin even seemed a viable option to him, and so did going to the forge and working on something new.
Finally, he just hung around, and decided to go and have a chat with DD about the prophecy. Being a daughter of Athena, she surely would have some peculier ideas about it! So, he walked over to table 6, and seated himself next to DD, "So, how's the brain wracking going!?" He flipped open his backpack as he shot the question, fetching Floof by his tail, which resulted in a flurry of feline bickering. As an apology, Suvansh offered Floof some Sweet Chilli Syrup, getting an enthusiastic purr from him, making him smile.
This awesome art and Avatar is made by Grietine! Visit her deviantart.
-Sun Tsu, The Art of Gaming
oh hey what's this
This awesome art and Avatar is made by Grietine! Visit her deviantart.