Normally, I like giving a detailed premise of the quest that you are about to read, but the premise of this quest sort of hinges on you not knowing exactly what fandom you're in. That said, I will tell you that you are a reincarnated soul, just looking to make your way in the world. "Which world?" you may ask, but you'll just have to figure it out on your own.
You were sitting on a plane. It was just a routine flight, one that was taking you from your graduation ceremony to the city in which you'd be living and working for the foreseeable future. Of course, this was where the normality ended. Currently, your flight was going through some turbulence. Not the normal kind of turbulence where you buckle your seatbelt and go back to ignoring everyone and everything surrounding you, no. This turbulence shook the plane so hard you could hear the aluminum alloy of the craft creak and groan in complaint as the winds buffeted it. Your poor intranational plane wasn't meant to handle this kind of stress, and you can tell, as you grip the armrests of your seat as if it will help anything. The flight attendants are speaking from where they're buckled into their own seats, trying to calm down the passengers as the disaster unfolds.
There's a bright flash of light and simultaneously, a loud CRACK! You look outside the nearest window and see the wing burning, half of it no longer there. You'd thought that planes were supposed to have built-in countermeasures for lightning. Not this one apparently. There was a lot of screaming, and you may or may not have hugged a stranger. You can't quite remember, though whether that's because you're suppressing some sort of trauma, or for another reason, you're not quite sure. Still, though, you died.
Interestingly enough, you still have some memories of what happened after you died. You remember boredom and then bathing in some water, but not much else. In fact, not anything else.
That all leads you to where you are now. You are, well, you're pretty sure you exist, but you don't have any senses, so you're just sort of alone in a void. It's awful and even harder to describe. You've never experienced utter sensory deprivation, but you can only imagine it's not as bad as what you're experiencing right now.
Then, blessedly, you can feel. You are enclosed, warm. Is this the afterlife? Was before purgatory? You have no idea, though you're quite sure that you are dead. You think back to your family (how can you think right now?), your friends, the people you've left behind. You miss them, and you hope that they can get over the tragedy of your untimely death soon, but you feel as though there's no way for you to return. You died, maybe not fairly but it happened and trying to reverse that just fills you with a certain sense of wrongness. As if whatever this afterlife you're in is rebelling against that thought. You set it aside, and try and work out what's going on with you.
You have no sense of time, especially not after all that time spent without being able to sense anything, besides, with only a sense of touch, what's the point of being able to tell what time it is. Regardless, however long you spent in that enclosed space, it gave you time to reflect. You reflect for some time on your past life, going over your regrets, and came to terms with them, at least to some degree. Then you reflect on your current situation. You're not quite sure what's going. You're pretty sure you died, and yet you don't quite feel dead, and yet there's something else, a concept that you feel strongly within you.
It was…
Choose as many as you like, but only one can win.
[][Concept] Strategy
[][Concept] Vengeance
[][Concept] Luck
[][Concept] Fertility
[][Concept] Wisdom
[][Concept] Beauty
[][Concept] Magic
[][Concept] Victory
[][Concept] Music
[][Concept] Crafting
[][Concept] Mediation
[][Concept] Travel
[][Concept] Strength
[][Concept] Youth
[][Concept] Fire
[][Concept] Love
[][Concept] Sleep
[][Concept] Thievery
[][Concept] Growth
[][Concept] Battle
[][Concept] Healing
You didn't know why you felt so fixated on this one specific concept, but you had a feeling that it was important to you somehow.
At some point, you develop both sight and hearing, or at least the baby versions of such things. What you see are mostly colored blobs, and what you can hear is mainly indistinct noises. You imagine that most babies would find this normal, having known nothing else in their short lifetime. You, on the other hand, find it immensely strange. You are certain that you can hear or at least feel some sort of outside stimuli at some point, but it's just so hard to remember. You do remember worrying about whether or not your old memories remain, but they seemed fine, it's only the memories of your current situation, whatever it is, that has trouble sticking in your mind. Maybe it's because of the comparison between your currently incredibly poor senses, and your old regular human senses. You really have no idea though.
At some point, you are removed from the warm, enclosed space, though you try not to think about it too much, and your baby mind seems to oblige you, making it hard to remember exactly how or when the transferral from warm, enclosed space to your current situation happened. You have the sensation of being held, but your sight and hearing are still incredibly poor. You open your eyes and everything hurts all at once. You start wailing at the sensation, only calming down when you feel the familiar presence of one of your (new?) parents hugging you softly and rocking you.
You're pretty certain now, that what you experienced wasn't the afterlife, rather it was your new chance at life, and what a crazy thought that was. You were pretty sure you weren't supposed to be born with all of your memories intact. Had you taken over the body of whoever this child would be? Did you want to know? Perhaps all children were born like this, and you would simply forget all the details of your past life by the time you could actually converse with another human being, and it's not as if a small child claiming memories of a past life would be believed. You certainly couldn't remember how long you had been out of the enclosed space, even with your feeble grasp on time.
Still, you were somewhat thankful for your lack of long-term memories as, despite the shame of being unable to take care of yourself, those memories quickly faded, and it's not as if you experienced a lot during them anyway. Your sight eventually cleared up at some point, as did your hearing, which allowed you to determine that the language being spoken around you was English.
It wasn't as if you could do much with that information because your baby muscles were basically limited to flailing for quite a long time, at least from your perspective. At least you could start counting the days.
By your estimate, it took you around six months of determined practice to learn how to crawl, again. You also managed to determine that you were in a modern setting, which was great. You don't know what you would have done if you had been somewhere less technologically developed after you'd gotten used to the comforts of the modern era. You'd also managed to discover that you were definitely a...
So here's the first chapter of my newest quest. Do you have any ideas about the fandom you're in? It's not Worm, and to give you another hint, it's not one that I've seen a quest for before (not to say one doesn't exist, simply that I haven't seen it yet and I read a lot of quests).
Anyway, here's the fourth quest. I'll probably do some shorter daily updates until you make it out of the intro stage, at which point it will fall in line with the 2 quests a day schedule which I have yet to make.
Originally, I was going to make this a Worm Quest, that was, essentially, a Taylor Alt-Power where she got her powers during summer camp, inspired by Falling Forever (Which you should read). This, though, gives me a bit of space to write something other than Worm.
You were always going to be a precocious child. The fact of the matter is that you couldn't stand being trapped in your own body, so you went about trying to change that. It took you about three months to learn how to walk, and another two to get your mouth to properly form words. At that point, you had a decision to make. You knew next to nothing about child development, or at least normal child development. What you did know was that 1-year-old children did not spontaneously start speaking long English sentences with words their parent had never said to them. You would
[][Precocious] Be the mute child. Don't reveal your intelligence by never ever speaking
[][Precocious] Pretend to be a normal baby by holding back on revealing your ability to speak to your parent. You won't be exactly average, but you can hopefully get close enough to not arouse suspicion.
[][Precocious] Don't bother hiding your intellect. You'll be the smartest baby around.
[][Precocious] Write-in.
Then, of course, there was your parent. Yes, that's correct, singular, parent. You had a father and he fed you milk from a bottle, formula or whatever it's called. There was definitely no mother in the picture, not for as long as you can remember. You don't know if she died in childbirth or if she just handed your dad the baby and left and you certainly don't think you're old enough to be asking those kinds of questions. You did your best to make yourself as small of a burden on your father as you could, what with being a helpless baby and all. You would describe your father as an excellent single parent, and while you were initially hesitant to accept him as a parental figure, the consistent love and affection made it impossible for you to shut him out of your heart.
Which you only knew because he sometimes talked to you, likely under the assumption that you didn't understand about himself and what he did. You supposed that since you rejected the majority of the toys he gave you, that he considered it the best way to keep you occupied. No matter what, though, he never spoke about your mother. You, of course, not quite being able to speak just yet, didn't ask him about her.
Eventually, though, you grew old enough to where your father had to go back to work. Single parent, he may be, but he couldn't stay away from his work forever. He often got someone to come and look after you and make sure you didn't get yourself into trouble on your own. This was your first introduction to picture books, which you positively devoured, eager for any form of mental stimulation. Your minders often made suitably impressed noises when you read out words from the books to them, and your plain enjoyment of them made it so that your dad, in his desire to please you, gave you plenty of children's books. The only issue was that you started to notice something was wrong. When you read the books, you struggled to put the letters into words. Even using your two decades of English literacy, it still felt wrong somehow to read the words in English. You shelved it as something to bring up when your father had time.
The other interesting thing about your life was the plants. Your father had several scattered about your house, and whenever you were bored, as was often the case, you would go and examine them. With how little care they received, since your father had to split his time between work and you, the seemed to be practically flourishing. You often felt at home, just sitting amongst the plants, sometimes playing with their leaves. In fact, you much preferred them to your regular toys. Your father and your minders took notice, and soon your room was practically full of all kinds of plant life.
In your last life, you knew next to nothing about growing anything, and yet in this one, you seemed to have an almost instinctual knowledge of how plants should behave. Perhaps it had something to do with the concept of growth you felt before you were born. Or perhaps you were simply imagining things, as every plant in your house seemed to outstrip what your instincts said should be 'normal' growth. The ones planted in your room seemed to grow especially fast, and your father often joked that you had a 'green thumb.' You took to the title with gusto, spending ever more time among your plants.
Of course, you did eventually bring up your struggles with reading to your dad and he brought you to a pediatrician. He had you try and read to him. After several more sessions with him. You were given a diagnosis. Dyslexia. You definitely hadn't been dyslexic in your previous life and yet, here you were. You wouldn't let this stop you though, you didn't quite know what you wanted to make of your second life just yet, but you wouldn't let something like dyslexia hold you back from doing what it is you wanted. You did notice your dad spending more time with you after that, helping you with words and reading. It was touching, even if you didn't need the help. Instead, you ate up the chance to spend more time with your dad. You knew you would cherish these memories for as long as you could. Especially the time when he taught you how to spell your name:
[][Name] Edwin Cuillerier
[][Name] Ali Hajjar
[][Name] Samuel Woods
[][Name] Adam Galaneas
[][Name] Rahul Padhi
[][Name] Leonard Bauer
[][Name] Adrian Foret
[][Name] Rafael Reyes
[][Name] Write-in.
Of course, as you got a bit older, you simply could not spend so much time cooped up in your house, and you eventually managed to get your dad to let you go play outside with the other kids.
[][Friends] You were friends with the plants.
[][Friends] You had a few close friends.
[][Friends] You had many friends as a child.
Of course, your father eventually picked up on the fact that as you grew up, you struggled to sit still in almost any context, always wanting to be up and about. You would like to say that you let him figure it out, but the truth is that you didn't even know he was watching you and looking out for it. Another trip to the same pediatrician and you were diagnosed with yet another affliction. ADHD. This one you didn't feel quite as bad about. From what you knew it was possibly an overzealous diagnosis, though privately you doubted it. ADHD was just another obstacle that you would overcome.
You would like to say that you at least brushed up against the idea of a normal childhood, but that wasn't the case. Your first clue that something wasn't quite right, aside from all the other weird nonsense that happened in your childhood was on your third birthday. Your dad had gotten you imported Dutch Tulips as you hadn't expressed an interest towards anything except books and plants, which made it a tad difficult to get you a present, or so you assumed. Of course, the tulips were living only by the barest of margins when you got them, and yet, by the time you had them planted and moved to your room, they were practically in full bloom. You knew that wasn't possible, and yet it had happened before your eyes.
You had suspected that all was not as it seemed, and yet for all of your suspicions, everyone around you seemed not to take note of the oddities surrounding you.
[][Oddities] Try and draw your dad's attention to the oddities surrounding you.
[][Oddities] Keep them a secret
[][Oddities] Write-in.
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Votes for the next chapter:
Lots of Votes in this chapter. I'm really enjoying writing about the developments in your life. I imagine that the timescale will continue to be at about three years a chapter, at least until events start to come to a head. Then the time covered in each chapter will probably slow down significantly.
I wonder if it's clear what fandom you all are in. I think there's enough information in this chapter to confirm some theories while removing others, and I think that you could guess it just from what's known so far, but then again, I have a different perspective, being the author and all. I'd love to hear your guesses.
[X][Precocious] Don't bother hiding your intellect. You'll be the smartest baby around.
[X][Occupation] Park Ranger
[X][Name] Samuel Woods
[X][Friends] You were friends with the plants.
[X][Oddities] Try and draw your dad's attention to the oddities surrounding you.
When you were three, you threw away all pretense of being a normal child and started speaking in full grammatically correct sentences. If your dad was surprised by your sudden eloquence, he did a good job of hiding it, though it was much easier to get a reaction from your minders, the various high-school-age girls that lived in the same neighborhood as you and needed the money from babysitting. With your new power of speaking in an understandable fashion, you were able to glean much more information about your surroundings.
Currently, you live in Syosset, New York, and are slated to start going to Tobay Day School for Pre-K. You don't actually remember what pre-kindergarten was like, hell you hardly remember kindergarten, but it does give you the opportunity to interact with other children your age.
On the day when you should be going to your first day of school, you make sure you look your best in the mirror. You feel slightly pathetic at being so excited, but you yearn for the intellectual stimulation of your peers. Talking with your dad is great, but no matter how smart you appear to be, your babysitters always insist on treating you like your age, which is awful for you.
You are Samuel Woods, you have lanky brown hair, just like your dad, and brown eyes, which you must have gotten from your mom, or a recessive gene since your dad has blue eyes. You are well, you are a cute kid, from your perspective. You have no idea whether you'll look good when you grow up, but that's a problem you can worry about later. It's time for your first day of school.
You have decided that you hate school. Not because you dislike learning or anything simply because you hate sitting still while the glorified babysitter that is your teacher shows the other kids how to read and tells them stories that you've already read. The other kids are even worse. You had hoped for some sort of mental stimulation, instead, you found children who could barely string together a decent sentence and appeared to be entertained by pushing a car back and forth.
A part of you realized that you were being somewhat unfair to these kids. After all, they were just kids. You had just hoped that there someone that would be even remotely interesting and in doing so placed expectations much higher than your peers could meet. You weren't arrogant enough to believe that you were somehow innately superior to them, after all, you had years of life experience on them, but it did make you less inclined to interact with them. Instead, you interacted with the plants around the daycare. You had started getting better with your plant-based powers, and you could almost tell what a plant was feeling when you concentrated. You still weren't sure whether you were hallucinating all of this though since despite the strange events that seemed to surround you, all your knowledge informed that there was no way plants had emotions.
Still, you came to be familiar with the cheery happiness the flowers of the daycare greeted you with, or the familiarity that the assortment of your plants treated you with. Sometimes, when your dad would let you tag along, you would get to meet some really old trees. They would look at you with a sort of grandfatherly kindness.
Oh yeah, your dad is a park ranger. Not for a specific park, because there are state parks littered all over long island. Instead, your dad has something of a rotation. He visits a certain state park every day for a month, sometimes two, and then he swaps. It's definitely gotten you to see a lot of the parks and you couldn't be happier with how it turned out. Being in an area that's so full of nature just makes you feel calm, serene in a way you never are in the city, except for maybe sometimes in your own room.
You also had worked up the courage to finally ask your dad about your mom.
"Dad, what was Mom like?"
"Your mother was an extraordinary woman," he says, ruffling my hair. "You have her eyes, you know. That warm brown always reminds me of her. She was smart as a whip too, just like you are and you seem to have inherited her green thumb. I may know how to take care of plants, but I'd never be able to manage a garden like yours."
You want to know why she's not here, but you can't figure out a way to phrase it that doesn't sound incredibly blunt, so you decide to just go for it. "Where is she?"
"Sam," he brings me in for a one-armed hug, "Normally I'd wait until you're older to talk about this with you, but you're mature for your age, so maybe you'll understand. The relationship between your mother and I was never meant to be permanent." He holds up a hand before you can ask more question, "You were a bit of a surprise, but I wouldn't trade you for anything."
That just leaves you with more questions. "So I am an accident?" you blurt out, against your better judgment.
Your dad just grins at you, "Nah, you're a miracle, and between you and me, I'm pretty sure your mom planned to have you."
It's one day when you're 4 and a half years old that you finally connect the dots. You're spending the day with your dad at the current park he's visiting. You're literally making all the plants you pass by perk up as you move by them, something that's so obvious that your father should be noticing, except he's not.
You start to wonder how exactly the supernatural parts of this world work and if there's some sort of system to keep mundane people from noticing. Then, you feel as if you've pulled your head out of murky water. Single Father, Dyslexia and ADHD, the power to control plants: you're in the world of Percy Jackson, and you're a demigod. That would make your mother... Demeter?
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
You continue to curse furiously in your head. One of the themes of Percy Jackson is that demigods aware of their divine nature attract monsters like nobody's business. You've probably been coasting off of your ignorance, but you know now, and you can't simply stop knowing.
You elect to abandon the subtle approach and grab your dad's sleeve.
"Yes, Sam?"
"Dad, how come I can make the plants grow?"
Your dad's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he regains control of his expression. "You're just special, Sam."
Ah, he's probably trying to protect you by being indirect with his answer. Well, you'll just have to break through that indirectness with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. "Dad, is my mom Demeter, the Greek Goddess of Agriculture?"
Your dad trips over the root of a tree. You can feel the tree's amusement as your father lands flat on his face. It feels faintly feminine somehow. He quickly gets up and dusts himself off.
"Sam, we're going home." He takes you by your hand and practically drags you back to your car.
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When you get back home, your dad sits you down in the living room.
"I had hoped there was more time," he mutters to himself. "Your mother said you'd figure it out eventually. I just hoped that we would have more time, that you'd maybe be a bit older. You always were ahead of your peers though."
"Dad, am I right?"
"Your mother… Didn't let me know about her true nature for the entirety of our relationship. I only found out when she showed up wearing a crown of wheat and holding you in her arms. She explained a lot to me, most of which I still can't tell you. Suffice it to say that knowing about your mother is dangerous. She didn't tell me exactly how, and I'm not 'clear-sighted,' whatever that means."
"Dad…"
"Sometimes, I hoped that your mother was simply crazy, and all that stuff she said was just a product of her imagination." Man, your mom must really like your dad if she lets him get away with saying that kind of stuff. "I'll… I'll try and help out as much as I can. I don't know how much I'll be able to do, but if there's any trouble, just let me know ok."
Your fears about attracting monster came true on your first day of Kindergarten when you were 5. When you were out playing during recess, you saw a man, sitting on a bench near the school. Not quite on school property, but adjacent to it. That wouldn't be unusual in and of itself, except for the fact that the man's face was rotting. He looked like he had seen far better days, even as a corpse. You had ignored him for the day and told your dad as soon as you got home.
You had tried brainstorming solutions with him. In truth, you didn't have any good options. You could hardly fight off a monster as a five-year-old and you definitely couldn't place your dad in that kind of danger. You could just ignore it, but what if the undead continued stalking you. If you called the police, they probably wouldn't see anything amiss with the walking corpse.
What's a five-old son of Demeter to do?
[][Undead Situation] Ignore it and hope it goes away
[][Undead Situation] Try and fight the monster on your own
[][Undead Situation] Call in mundane authorities.
[][Undead Situation] Write-in.
ΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦ
Votes for the next chapter:
Your first brush with the supernatural. What happens now is up to you, mainly. There's a couple of different ways you could go about this, but you're quite young for your first monster encounter. Finding out about your divine heritage has done you no good.
[X] Undead Situation Write-In: Tell the teachers that during recess you saw some man beyond the fence staring at your class, specifically at the kids in a rather weird manner. Say you'd feel more comfortable if they have the cops investigate and if your parents are called.
You decided to do the sensible thing. You're sure that a more impulsive (read: stupid) person would have tried charging the zombie. Not you though, you called an Adult™. You told your teacher that a strange man was watching you when you were on the playground. You'd considered asking for the cops to investigate, but you decided that that could wait until you ascertained that the zombie wasn't going away.
He was there for the next two days, putting you on edge. Your teacher, one Mrs. Grafo definitely noticed as well, as on the third day the zombie was accosted by a pair of Police Officers. It didn't happen at recess, so you didn't get to see the encounter in detail, but you did glimpse it out of the window of your classroom.
It looked like the two police officers were having trouble communicating with the zombie. Then, one of them reached into their pocket and pulled out… a breathalyzer. You're not sure what the Zombie's blood alcohol content was, but apparently, it was enough that the two officers dragged him away.
You just watched a zombie get arrested. What a surreal experience.
That was the only incident during your kindergarten year, which you were thankful for. When you entered first grade and actually started learning things as opposed to doing worksheets, it became clear just how far ahead of your peers you were. You hadn't actually made any effort to hide your abilities after all. One day, your first-grade teacher, Mrs. Stewart, had you take a couple of IQ exams. Of course, because IQ is calculated based on your chronological age. You had a nonsensical 225 IQ. Even you had to admit that the test was flawed. Still, afterward, your teachers convinced your dad to let them parade you around like some sort of genius.
Then came the talk about skipping grades. You weren't opposed. After all, you weren't particularly close to any of your classmates, and your status as a child prodigy should ensure that the teachers are firmly on your side in case of any belligerent classmates. Your father did not share your opinion. He worried that were you to skip grades you would become even more of a social outcast than you already were. Your teachers crowed about "wasted potential" and other similar things, but during winter break, your father sat you down and told you that he would ultimately let you decide.
[][Skip Grades] You'll skip grades (probably a lot very quickly)
[][Skip Grades] You're happy sticking with your peers and heading up to second grade.
Your second half of first grade signaled the return of the zombies or zombie. You weren't sure if there was more than one as you never saw more than one at a time. You wondered what the hell was their problem with you. I mean sure, you'd cheated death, and you were practically the embodiment of life at this point, but really, wasn't Hades like your brother-in-law?
…
Did you imagine the ground rumble slightly? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you should try not to piss off the Greek Gods that are apparently listening in for you to blaspheme them. That sounds good.
Anyway, the zombies seem to have decided that your school is off-limits, and seeing as there are only two other places you go, home and to parks with your dad. They've decided to follow you home. You, again, informed your dad about this, and he started calling the cops on them, but apparently, through the mist, the zombies look like different people, meaning that to the police, there's a new random fucker standing around in front of your house each time you call. By the time you "graduate" from first grade, the local police office has told your father that these people staring at your house are on public property (read: the sidewalk) and there's not a whole lot they can do about them.
That summer, you spent less and less time out in your back garden, as you felt vulnerable, even in your own home. The only real refuge you had was when your dad took you out to the various parks. You came to treasure those memories of safety and happiness with the family member who was there for you.
Despite your attempts to hide it, your dad noticed that the constant presence of monsters was getting to you. He tried to help out sometimes, but he couldn't exactly reason with zombies, and to him, they just looked like ordinary people. The worst part was sometimes you'd point out a zombie to him, and he'd look, and just wouldn't be able to see them. They just didn't exist for him. He believed that they were there, but it only made him feel more and more helpless.
It didn't drive a wedge in between you and your dad. In fact, if anything it made you two cling to each other more, but the constant stress was healthy for neither of you.
It came to a head on a sunny August day in 1996. Even in the summer, clear skies did not come so often. It was one of the rare times you were out in the backyard gardening. Things were going great until a zombie crawled over the fence. Perhaps flopped would be more accurate. You screamed. You would run back to your house, but the zombie was in between you and the back door, and you weren't willing to get close enough to it that it would have a chance at touching you.
You yelled for your dad, but it was almost like he couldn't hear you. Then you realized the problem. The Mist was keeping your father from noticing what was going on, just like it did when he couldn't see the zombies. That meant you were alone against a zombie. You hadn't done much more with your plant powers other than making plants grow faster than they were supposed to, but you supposed it was now or never.
You didn't ask. You told the grass underneath the zombie t grow and you saw the blades of grass wrap around the zombie's feet as it stood up. That wouldn't do anything though, so what you did next was tell the tree to grow its roots out towards the zombie. It managed to snag the zombie's arms by its waist and ensnare the zombie to the ground. Cautiously, you grabbed your child-sized gardening shovel and approached. When it became clear the zombie couldn't move and wasn't a threat other than the noises it was making, you beat it over the head with the shovel until it turned into yellow dust. Then, as the roots receded into the ground, you were hit by a wave of exhaustion. You'd never felt anything like this happen before when you grew plants. You just managed to get inside and collapse on a couch before you fell asleep.
Of course, when your dad found you sleeping on the sofa, you told him what happened. It only stressed him out more. So the two of you set about brainstorming some way for you to defend yourself in the future.
Pick 3 to focus on for the next few years.
[][Training?] Join a Martial Arts Dojo of some kind.
-[][Training?] Karate
-[][Training?] Taekwondo
-[][Training?] Judo
-[][Training?] Jujutsu
-[][Training?] Krav Maga
[][Training?] Focus on your Chlorokinesis. Plant control saved your but after all
[][Training?] Read up on Greek Legends
[][Training?] Join a sports team (Athleticism is important after all)
-[][Training?] Soccer
-[][Training?] Football
-[][Training?] Write-in.
[][Training?] Meditate on the Concept of Growth. It felt important to you, and surely it's not limited to just plants.
[][Training?] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
[][Training?] Your dad knows how to shoot a gun, maybe you should start taking gun safety courses so you can have one as well.
[][Training?] Write-in.
Over the course of one year, you have gained 5 Exp Points in Social, 10 Exp Points, in Gardening, and 10 Exp Points in Chlorokinesis.
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Votes for the next chapter:
I had originally wanted this chapter to cover more years, but I think that this made more sense. Also, beware that I am terrible at writing anything that takes place over a long period of time. There's only one way to get better but I thought you should know ahead of time. My other quests have a pace of either one update being one day in-quest or a week taking two to three updates. My goal for this quest is, outside of quests and other special events, for the slowest pace to be around one update being one week in-quest. I'm not sure if I'll manage, but I'll try.
[X][Skip Grades] You'll skip grades (probably a lot very quickly)
[X][Preparation] Focus on your Chlorokinesis. Plant control saved your butt after all
[X][Preparation] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
[X][Preparation] Meditate on the Concept of Growth. It felt important to you, and surely it's not limited to just plants.
Despite your dad's worries, you decided that you would start skipping grades. The first thing they let you do was immediately skip up from your age-appropriate second grade to third grade. Of course, when you proved to them that even third grade was too easy, they let you switch to fourth grade halfway through the semester. You hardly knew anybody in your third grade class because you were with them for all of a month and a half before you were switched into the next year.
The work was still trivial for you, but your second skip did make your dad very fussy for a while. It was simultaneously annoying and endearing. Take, for example, your typical afternoon routine. You'd finish your homework in your room, then go out to the backyard to practice your plant manipulation or chlorokinesis.
"Have you finished your homework?" your dad would always ask as you stepped out of your room in the one-floor house you shared with your father.
"Yes, Dad," you would always say.
"Would you like me to look over it?" Several times, you were tempted to inform your dad that you were probably better at math than he was. After all, you doubted he did much math when he was getting his ecology degree from NYU.
Of course, you don't say that instead, you say, "Sure, Dad," and then you sit with him as he checks over your (always perfect) homework. The only times where he would need to correct it was in some of the writing portions where you would misspell words here and there. Damn dyslexia, no matter how many times you reread your work you could never catch all the errors. Well, you probably could if you spent so much time on it, but you think it made your dad feel better that there was something you still needed his help with. It was pleasantly mundane and it always made you feel like despite being a single parent, your dad was the best.
Of course, afterward, the two of you would head out into the backyard to "garden.' Your dad actually gardened while you practiced making plants do things they didn't want to do. You soon learned that the trick wasn't to force them, but to coax them gently into the shape you wanted. You sort of imagined it like water, creating resistance on all the sides you didn't want the plant to grow as you pushed your (Juju? Energy? Magic?) power into them. Over time, it felt as though you were getting more skilled with the practice. Your pool of energy never felt like it expanded, but you did get better at using it before you got tired.
Chlorokinesis practice was equal parts comforting and distressing for your father. He was happy to see you developing the ability to defend yourself. The zombies hadn't let up just because you'd killed one after all. The distressing part was when you would do something, like grow an entire raspberry bush from a couple of seeds.
"What do you think?" you'd asked him.
"About what?"
"The raspberry bush I grew."
"What about it? Haven't you been working on it for a while?"
"No Dad, I just grew it right now."
"Oh."
You hated how helpless you made him feel. A part of you, the rational part, told you that you couldn't blame yourself. It was the fault of The Mist after all, and you weren't strong or skilled enough to manipulate that yet. Those parts were steamrolled by the crushing emotional guilt of watching the stress practically age your father before your eyes. You did your best to comfort him, but you didn't know the right words to say, the right things to do to make him feel better.
The Zombie issue came to a head during Winter break, 1996. You were scheduled to head into fifth grade the coming spring, and the lack of zombie attacks for a whole six months seemed to have calmed your father a bit. They were always watching, but as long as they didn't do anything, it was ok, right? Wrong.
Just after your seventh Christmas, your dad had finally opened up about him and your mother, Demeter, had gotten together.
"I didn't know about her… background at first," the two of you were at a cafe where your dad had taken your mother often, due to its proximity to a nearby state park. "We first met on a scheduled tour of the park. She was beautiful, long blonde hair, and kind brown eyes, just like yours," he ruffled your hair. "And she knew so much about the park and all the animals and plants that live there. I joked that she should take over the tour, and she got this glint in her eye, and then she did. She did a much better job of it than I ever have. Afterward, I screwed up my courage and asked her to join me for a drink. I brought her here and she convinced me to try tea for the first time," you make a face. Underdeveloped taste buds make anything with a nuanced flavor, like tea, incredibly disgusting. You didn't need to make your opinion on tea known, but sometimes it was nice to act your (body's?) age.
"What happened then?"
"She'd come to visit me when I was on duty in the parks. I didn't know how she found me until, well, a story for later. She'd walk with me as I did my duties and we'd just chat. Then, well, one thing led to another. I'm sure you don't really want to hear the rest."
"Ew, gross." Godly parent or not, hearing about your parents having sex is just gross.
When you stepped out of the cafe, it was snowing, "Wait here, Sam, I'll go get the car."
Your wonderful day was ruined by the telltale moaning of a zombie right after your dad got out of sight.
You turned and grimaced at the zombie in winter clothes lumbering at you slowly. You could only be thankful it was still only a single zombie. You looked around and found that you were alone other than the zombie. You looked for possible weapons and found… the zombie was going to pass a tree planted in the sidewalk before it reached you. Excellent
You put your practiced powers to good use. As the Zombie passed by the tree, its roots erupted through the sidewalk, tripping it and then slowly wrapping around it. This time, without a weapon to kill it, you had the roots of the tree grow into it's wriggling form. After a moment, it poofed into yellow powder. The roots started to recede, looking as if they'd simply grown out and then down, breaking some of the sidewalk, rather than as if they'd grown over a human-sized gap.
You were hit by a dizzy spell. Not as strong as before, but still significant. That was how your dad found you.
The fact that you'd been attacked again only made your dad more worried about you. When you let slip that you'd never seen a zombie when you were in a park or preserve, he'd take you to one practically any time he could, on or off duty.
You started fifth grade halfway through your peers' year. You did get to know them slightly better than your previous classes, but that was only because the school board wanted you to graduate fifth grade in the spring so they could parade you around at their elementary school 'graduation.' Or so your dad said.
Regardless, while you may have considered them worthy of talking to, they didn't want to interact with you in the way you wanted to be interacted with. The two ways they saw you were either "freakish genius" or "adorable child." You wanted to be neither, but you weren't sure how to accomplish that. You did excellent academically.
All it took was a few dropped hints about possibly needing to survive on your own and your dad started teaching you survival skills. You started off simple with things like scavenging for edible and useful plants, making a fire, purifying water, and constructing a makeshift shelter. It wasn't too bad, though it did take your dad two months to figure out that you were using chlorokinesis to make more food out of what you did find.
"Sam," he said disapprovingly.
"What?" you put on your best innocent face.
"I know you're proud of your powers, and I'm proud of you too, but what if there's a situation where you can't use them, say you're too exhausted, or they're being blocked somehow. What will you do then?"
"I understand," you look down, "I'll stop using them during lessons unless I absolutely need to."
He ruffled your hair like he always does. "That's my boy."
Your seventh birthday came and went with little fanfare. You had a small "party" with just your dad. You didn't want anything else.
By summer, you were learning how to lay traps for small game, prepare them, and cook them. It was tougher, not using your plant manipulation, but you found other ways to train it. Your control was much finer now, and you believed you could probably stab a zombie to death with a sufficiently hard plant.
Speaking of zombies, you'd had another encounter with one during your fifth-grade spring, but you had dealt with it easily. The zombies still weren't coming in packs of more than one, but you knew they would at some point.
The lack of school also gave you time to focus on something else you'd been neglecting. The Concept of Growth.
You spent a lot of time thinking about it as you wandered the parks your father worked in. It was the one place he felt safe letting you wander about on your own. What is Growth? How do you use it? You know that the way you make plants grow could be considered Growth, but that can't be it. The concept is far too broad for that to be all there is to it. The trouble is that you have no basis to work off of to figure it out.
After some more days thinking about it, you realize that that's not quite the case. You do have one basis, your chlorokinesis. You can make the plants grow, but to make them Grow, you need another aspect or quality to Grow them into. But what other qualities could you want to grow them into?
Embarrassingly, you don't figure it out until nearly the end of summer. What qualities do you want your plants to have and that they don't already have? Magical ones of course.
Of course, your chances to practice this are slim to none, as your dad is busy again. The number of zombies that appear by your house seems to be increasing. You hope you're ready for when they attack.
Sixth grade is, well the beginning of middle school, not that you're the right age to be in middle school. You just tested out of all the previous grades. You'll probably end up testing out of this one as well. You're more worried about the zombies than school anyway.
There is one noteworthy thing to happen though. About a month into your middle school tenure at South Woods Middle School, you noted someone sitting out at the seventh grade PE time. They had a pair of crutches by their side. The first thing you assumed was, of course, satyr. You held yourself back by reasoning that it could just be an injured person. You tried asking around, but no one would answer your questions until one kind eighth-grader. She only did so after pinching and squeezing your cheeks and gushing about how "cute" you were.
"You want to know about the girl with crutches, yeah?" You nod. "That's Blossom Hill. She has some sort of leg condition, incurable. She doesn't let it affect her though. So, when are you going to ask her out?" You sputter. The girl winks at you and walks off. You didn't even ger her name. Blossom presents an interesting dilemma. On the one hand, she could be a satyr and help you find your way to Camp Half-Blood. On the other hand, she could just be a girl with a leg condition.
[][Blossom] Approach her
-[][Blossom] Try and befriend her like a normal classmate
-[][Blossom] Try and gauge if she has any supernatural knowledge
[][Blossom] Ignore her, if she's a satyr, she'll probably find you eventually.
[][Blossom] Write-in.
Over one year, you have gotten 20 exp points in Survival, 15 exp points in Chlorokinesis, 1 exp point in Social, and unlocked the Concept of Growth: Stage 1.
Pick 3 to focus on for the next year.
[][Preparation] Join a Martial Arts Dojo of some kind.
-[][Preparation] Karate
-[][Preparation] Taekwondo
-[][Preparation] Judo
-[][Preparation] Jujutsu
-[][Preparation] Krav Maga
[][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis
[][Preparation] Read up on Greek Legends
[][Preparation] Join a sports team (Athleticism is important after all)
-[][Preparation] Soccer
-[][Preparation] Football
-[][Preparation] Write-in.
[][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist.
[][Preparation] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
[][Preparation] Your dad knows how to shoot a gun, maybe you should start taking gun safety courses so you can have one as well.
[][Preparation] You should probably learn some first-aid skills at some point.
[][Preparation] Maybe try and make some friends?
[][Preparation] Write-in.
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Votes for the next chapter:
[X][Blossom] Approach her
-[X][Blossom] Try and befriend her like a normal classmate
[X][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist.
[X][Preparation] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
[X][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis
You find time later in the week to approach Blossom. It's not terribly hard to find her alone as you actually haven't seen her with anyone else for the whole week you've been stalking observing her.
She grimaces as you approach her, "You're the new kid, right?" You nod. "Come to ask how I got these?" she points at her foot, sounding bitter. "Who put you up to this? Was it Cindy? Karen?" You'd be a middle-school bully too if your parents named you Karen.
You look up at her face and strikes you for the first time, even though you've been trying to find time to approach her for a week. Blossom is pretty, like comic book pretty. She's the kind of kid that gets picked to star in the female lead's tragic back story as the young female lead. She has red hair and large, expressive green eyes on her oval-shaped face. Her high cheekbones lead into a smooth jawline that has hints of baby fat still on it.
"Uh… no?"
"You can tell me who it was. I won't tell them you told me."
"I uh, I don't know who those people are."
She examines your face. "Wait, really?" You nod again. "Ugh, sorry. I'm Blossom, it's nice to meet you."
"I'm Sam. Is that how you greet everybody?" You wince internally right after you say that.
"No, it's just… Ugh. Surely you know what it's like to be an outcast, what with your genius and all."
"I never stayed in a single class long enough to really know."
"What? How?"
"I completed 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade last year."
"Oh." You didn't intend for that to come across as braggadocious as it did.
"So… Uh…" you trail off awkwardly, trying to find a topic that doesn't involve her social status or her crippled legs.
"You know, I don't really mind talking about them, my legs that is. It's just that Cindy and Karen have been commenting on them lately, and I thought you were their patsy or something."
"Oh, umm, sorry."
"It's ok. It's not your fault. I'll explain, to clear the air. When I was 4, my dad got in a car wreck. My mom died, and I broke both my legs. They never healed quite right."
How do you even respond to that, "I… uh… I'm sorry for your loss?" it comes out as more of a question than condolence.
"Also not your fault. So what's it like, being a genius and all, that is?"
You grin, "It's fun."
"Fun? Didn't you just say you never stayed in any grade long enough to get to know anybody?"
"I mean, it's kind of hard to relate to people my age when I'm so much smarter than them. Plus, I get all the perks, and the teachers love me."
As it turns out, Cindy and Karen are bullying Blossom, and they've organized a whole ring of girls to do it with, from what you can tell through stalking your observational skills. You tried asking someone about it, but they denied that it was happening, and you were unsure what to do about that. The bullying was mainly verbal, with the girls loudly whispering about how Blossom was "broken" or "a cripple" with fake pity. That was sometimes followed up with a confrontation with Cindy and/or Karen wherein they would tell her to "just go die."
If you had to attribute a motivation for this, it would probably be jealousy. Cindy and Karen were the social ringleaders and the most attractive girls in their grade, barring Blossom. Of course, it's actually probably because 11-year-olds are malicious little shits. And yes, you are aware of the irony of saying that when you're not even eight yet.
Of course, when you started hanging out with Blossom, there were subtle 'warnings' that you shouldn't. Then they moved on to the bullying, calling you a "freak of nature," "a weirdo," and "a midget." Truly, middle school insults left a lot to be desired.
Some people might have stood up to them, and insulted them back. Those Gryffindors can kiss your Slytherin ass. You turned on the waterworks and went straight to the nearest teacher. The look on their faces when they got detention twice a week for a whole month was priceless, like they'd sucked on a lemon, your dad would probably say.
Your friendship with Blossom took off quite quickly. The cynical part of your mind told you that it was because neither of you had any other friends. The optimist in you told you to enjoy it.
Blossom was… not the best academically, and you spent quite a bit of your time tutoring her. Then there were the offhand comments she'd make about her home life. She'd always change the subject whenever you tried to press for details. You let her because you could tell it was a sore subject for her.
"So, Algebra?"
"Yeah, I can't figure out why they started putting letters in math. It's stupid and it makes no sense," Blossom pouted. You weren't old enough to have hormones, but if you did you were certain they'd be going into overdrive.
You set about teaching her the wonders of solving for x.
"Thanks for the help. I'm glad I got this down now since it'd be a lot harder to focus at home."
"Mmm?" you try not to sound interested.
"It's nothing. I've got to go home now. Meet up later, by the park, north-side?"
"Sure."
Surprisingly, the topic of her disability doesn't come up often. She seems used to it and doesn't require help moving around or navigating with her crutches. She also doesn't really seem to want to talk about it, though she seems more willing to speak about her legs than her home life.
You continued to practice your chlorokinesis at home and occasionally at the park with your dad. The survival training continued whenever he had time to train you, though you did notice that you spent all of your time learning how to survive in the wilderness.
"What if I ever need to survive on my own in a city?"
"Well Sam, in a city, shelter is much easier to find, though food can be a bit more difficult. The biggest difference is that the dangers of a city are different, though I'm not sure how that works for you," he says, referring to your demigod heritage.
"What do you think I should do about food?"
"You've been practicing growing plants a lot, right? Take some seeds and grow them in any patch of dirt you can find. You won't get the best food, but it'll be food nonetheless."
You also spent some time practicing your new power. Well, learning it. You definitely theorized that you should be able to imbue plants with abilities that they should not have, but it was one thing to think it was possible and another entirely to actually pull it off. You ran into your first roadblock when you were staring at a common dandelion, wondering what sort of quality you should imbue into the flower. Your first thought is to turn into a tree, like some sort of Hashirama Senju reject, but that doesn't seem quite right. For one 'Tree-like' isn't a specific enough quality to imbue, and for another, shouldn't you try something that doesn't normally occur in plants.
[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of piercing, since you want to stab things with your plants.
[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of suppression. It certainly won't suppress anything significant, but it might make your opponent weaker
[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of durability. That way it will be harder for you enemies to break free from them.
[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of nutrition. You won't need to find too many edible plants if you ever need to forage for food.
[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of speed. The plant will certainly respond to your commands more quickly, and may even grow faster.
You think your dad was glad that you had made at least one friend, and you even ended up inviting her over for Christmas Eve dinner at the end of the first half of your year. You were done with sixth grade and were now moving onwards to seventh in the spring.
"So," your dad begins, "What do you normally do in the way of Christmas traditions?" he asks Blossom.
Blossom looks like she's about to change the subject, but something gives, "We don't have any."
"No?" your dad can tell that something's off.
"My dad hasn't been the same since mom died. I think he blames himself for her death, and for me becoming like this," She motions to her legs.
Your dad looks slightly dumbstruck, probably matching you, but Blossom isn't done pouring out her emotions, and pour they do, coming out with her whole life's story along with them. She wraps her arms around herself. "He… he never even looks at me anymore, and he's always drunk. I taught myself how to cook because I got bored of eating the same thing and now he doesn't even bother coming into the kitchen. I can't take it anymore!"
Stunned silence follows.
"I'm sorry… for ruining your Christmas eve" she mumbles.
Your dad hugs her gingerly, "It's ok," his face contorts. You can tell he's angry, but not at Blossom. "If you ever need anything, you can tell Sam and I'll be happy to help, ok."
Your seventh-grade half-year is only notable because you now share classes with Blossom. Her bullies have backed off somewhat since you started hanging out around her. After all, the teachers are basically all on your side. Being a genius comes with perks after all.
There is one thing that's bothering you though. Blossom has another friend. Normally, you'd say that it was great, or at least you hope you would, but said new friend, who apparently bonded over their shared leg problems and is an eighth-grader seems to always leave just before you show up.
You suspect he's a satyr, but if he is, then why is he avoiding you? Or maybe he's just an ordinary kid with leg problems. You still feel faintly embarrassed in your own mind when you think that your only friend was made because you thought she was a satyress. Also, she seemed to be certain that her new friend, Trent, wasn't avoiding you. The brown-haired boy did always seem to coincidentally leave before you could start talking to Blossom though.
There's also the matter of the zombies. They haven't stopped watching you, but they also haven't attacked you for almost a year now.
There was also your eighth birthday, which was a small affair between you, your dad, and Blossom, and Blossom's thirteenth birthday, which was largely the same. Also, you're pretty sure your dad ended up giving Blossom the puberty talk. You don't know how to feel about that.
All in all, it was pretty normal, except that on the last day of school, you saw Blossom and Trent go to a bus station. Which was odd, because Blossom always walked home. Your first thought was that he was manipulating her somehow, but that seemed too ridiculous. Instead, you walk up to them like a normal person.
"Hey, where are you all headed?"
"Oh, Trent works at this summer camp and he wanted to give me a tour!" Blossom says excitedly.
Ok, now you're starting to get suspicious that these two are both utterly mundane and some cosmic force is just fucking with you.
"I can probably fit in an extra if you want to come?" Trent suggests. You could probably shoot off a quick call to your dad, but who knows what will happen on the way there. Trips to Camp Half-blood usually turn out to be quite dangerous, from your limited sample set. It could also be an utterly mundane summer camp, which would be boring.
[][Trent] Accept (call your dad and let him know
[][Trent] Decline ("Maybe some other time")
[][Trent] Write-in.
Over the course of one year, you have gained 15 EXP Points in Survival, 15 EXP Points in Chlorokinesis, 10 EXP Points in the Concept of Growth, 5 EXP Points in Social, and 5 EXP points in Gardening.
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Votes for the next chapter:
[16][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of piercing, since you want to stab things with your plants.
[22][Trent] Accept (call your dad and let him know)
You try to imbue the daffodil with the concept of piercing. Even if you haven't taken to consuming media like you did in your old life, it's a notion you are very familiar with. The plant controller is always capable of making their plants bust through whatever material is in the way, be it stone or metal.
You push, for lack of a better word, that concept into the dandelion. You can sort of feel it take hold, but it's weak. You test it out by trying to force its roots through some wood. They penetrate maybe half an inch before they get stuck. You try and push in more and instead of taking, the dandelion turns into dust in your hand. It was… lacking somehow. In what way was it lacking?
It takes you almost a whole week to work it out. The plant isn't worthy of the concept. It's not significant enough to contain such a thing. You get the feeling once you're more skilled, you'll be able to push concepts into basically any plant, but right now, they need to be special in some way. You can think of a few plants that are special to you, but one definitely stands out.
The tulips you're growing in your room are just about five years old, probably older considering they were fully grown when you got them, rather than being seeds. Due to their nature as perennial plants, they were still alive, though it might also have to do with the whole "Demigod Child of Demeter" thing you have going on.
You pluck a single tulip out of the many you've grown. You can tell, by the feeling of the familiarity the plant feels to you and you feel towards it, that it was one of the original ones that your dad bought for you half a decade ago. You take it, along with a clump of dirt for its roots, outside, and then you push the concept of piercing into the flower. This time, it's much easier for you to do so, and the tulip soaks it up, unlike the dandelion. Then, you go and test it out on the same loose wooden plank you used to test the dandelion. The tulip's roots spread through the solid wood as if it were loose soil.
You grin and leave the tulip planted into the wood beam as proof of your accomplishment.
Trent is, well, he sort of just seems off. You can't really put your finger on it. Maybe all satyrs are like that? He hasn't started chewing on aluminum or bleated yet, so… Wait. Is that racist? How would you even find out if that's racist? The only thing you can really point a finger at for Trent is how his bandaged legs and crutches don't seem to hinder him at all, just like Grover's if your memory is correct.
It's probably not, considering it's been most of a decade since you've had the chance to look at a Percy Jackson book. Sure, you've engraved the significant plot events into your memory, but beyond that, you're running blind, and right now, canon is so many years away you could barely see it.
Enough talking about your memory though, you need to pay attention to your surroundings. Trent is surprisingly normal, getting along easily with Blossom and telling her anecdotes that make her laugh. You do note that he's positioned her so that she's in between you tow, but that could just be him being polite and allowing you to sit next to your friend.
A thought crosses your mind. If he's supernatural, that doesn't necessarily mean he's a satyr. He could also be some sort of monster, luring the two of you out to your deaths. It's glossed over a bit in what you remember, likely because the literature was aimed at middle-school-age kids who didn't have a whole extra life's worth of memories and experiences to draw from, but Demigods tend not to last long outside Camp Half-Blood, not unless you're powerful like a child of the big three, or traveling with one.
You come out of your reverie when you see that the bus has stopped. You half expect to look a seat over and see the Fates or something equally ridiculous, but instead, you see an empty bus, save for Blossom.
"Where did Trent go?"
"He went to go see why the bus was stopped. I can't believe you didn't notice. You were so zoned out."
You would argue that statement if something wasn't pinging all your danger senses. Something was off, You look at the setting sun and realize that the bus was heading West, not East, where Camp Half-Blood should be. That could just mean that Trent is an ordinary person, but you just have a feeling that that's not the case. You stand up to look at the rest of the bus. The only other person here is the bus driver.
"Hey, why don't we ask the bus driver?" you suggest to Blossom.
"Sure, I don't know what Trent's been up to, but it can't hurt."
You help Blossom stand up and grab her crutches before following her to the front, making sure she didn't trip and fall, which was unlikely. Blossom was pretty proficient with her crutches. You reach the front and Blossom taps the driver on the shoulder. He turns his head so that you can see his face, his decaying face.
Before you can react, Blossom shrieks and bashes him with the leg of her crutch. She then continues to scream as she batters the zombie bus driver with her right crutch. You end up having to stabilize her to ensure she doesn't fall down or put too much weight on her legs.
At some point, the zombie dissolves into monster dust, and you have to physically stop her from continuing to bash the empty chair. She's shaking
"That… that… that that."
"It was a zombie."
"Yeah."
"We need to get out of here."
"How are you so calm?"
"Dealt with zombies before," you blurt out before you remember that she may just be a clear-sighted mortal, even if you suspect she's not.
She gapes at you.
"Explanations later, getting out of here now."
Blossom nods, stepping carefully off the bus. You follow. You probably won't get anywhere fast with her on foot, but you'll do your best. She's your friend now, and you're not letting her get done in by some tricky monster.
You do a quick scan of the area. It seems that Trent knows about your chlorokinesis as there are few plants in the area, just some patches of dirt with weeds and grass in them, not nearly enough to take on the zombie horde that Trent just walked out in front of. He's got that evil smirk on his face, the one that makes people want to punch him. Before your eyes, he starts to transform. His hair, starting from the roots, turns from brown to blood red. His eyes shift from brown to grey.
He cackles evilly. You have to admit, he's pretty good. You give him an 8/10. Are you hysteric? Maybe. You reach into your pocket and pull out the handful of seeds your dad gave you. They're meant for growing small crops for you to eat, but they're probably your best bet against… is he swelling up?
Trent's leg bandages literally explode off of his body, though luckily his clothes simply resize themselves.
He looks kind of like a… "What are you, some kind of fat vampire?" Blossom… don't antagonize the guy with the army of zombies.
"I'll have you know, I'm no ordinary vampire, I am one of the great βρυκόλακας."
"That literally translates to vampire," you deadpan.
"Very well, if you wish to die first, I will oblige you."
The zombies start to close in. You don't need to look around to know that your escape route is cut off. The seeds in your hand feel almost warm to the touch as if they're waiting for you to tell them what to do. You could imbue them with enough piercing power to clear a path, but that'd leave you exhausted, and not to be tactless but Blossom is crippled. Neither of you would get anywhere fast.
[][Trent the Vamp] Use your seeds to grow spikes and impale a path out of the swarm.
[][Trent the Vamp] Try diplomacy, surely the vampire man can be reasoned with.
[][Trent the Vamp] Try and kill Trent with a surprise attack involving thrown plant seeds and piercing plants.
[][Trent the Vamp] Write-in.
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Votes for the next chapter:
Slightly short chapter, but I gotta let you take the reins. My idea is to sort of split between short sequences of actions and then long periods where not much happens. I'll try to ensure that in those time skips you still get one or two actual scenes rather than just chapters describing what happened.
Minor Error in the last chapter. Blossom should be turning thirteen if she's in seventh grade. It has since been fixed.
Trent's motivations will be explained in the next chapter, so don't ask me about them.
Fucking timelines, according to what is written Thalia is born on Dec 22, 1987, and she meets Annabeth in 2001 when the latter is seven and Thalia is 12, which would make sense except for the fact that Thalia should turn 13 on Dec 22, 2000. Gah!
[17][Trent the Vamp] Try and kill Trent with a surprise attack involving thrown plant seeds and piercing plants.
-[12][Trent the Vamp] Retreat back onto the bus, so if the zombies attack they can only enter one at a time, and use that to dust as they come to the door (either by using a plant or some sort of weapon).
"Why are you doing this?" Blossom yells, "We haven't done anything to you! I thought we were friends, Trent?" Her voice is a mixture of confusion, shock, and sadness. You palm your seeds, not all of them, but most of them. Growing them without dirt will almost certainly tire you out tremendously, but a surprise attack while Trent, or whoever he is monologues
"But you see my dear," creep vibes? Already? "It was all a deception, I was never Trent, to begin with. My name is Σκοτία (Skotia). And why you are here is to be my lovely little sacrifices. "
"You see, I don't need blood to survive, but to thrive- any good-"
You interrupt the monologue by throwing your handful of seeds at him. They're already sprouting, mainly roots that you can use to pierce him. He's clearly shocked that you interrupted him mid-monologue, but he reacts quickly. His fingers sharpen into claws and he slashes the roots apart. What he doesn't realize is that the roots aren't alive due to being attached to the rest of the plant. All of them are only alive because your magic (or Demeter's magic, you still don't know how this works) wills it. Thus, even as his claws shred the roots, destroying any chance of them entangling him, they elongate into many piercing needles. Several go straight into his face, while others hit his chest and arms.
There's a moment of silence while the zombies and Skotia process what just happened. You're already dragging Blossom back into the bus, your stamina flagging. As you get her to step onto the bottom step with her crutch, Skotia explodes into monster dust. Frankly, you found that whole exchange very anticlimactic. The zombies, unfortunately, don't follow suit. Instead, they seem enraged by your killing of their master. As Blossom makes it up to the top of the stairs, you step on and drop a seed at your feet. It sprouts up into a thorny blackberry bush, except there are no blackberries on the bush, and the thorns have extended into serrated spikes. The zombies rush headlong into it, and you have to constantly feed it power so that it can grow back from where it gets tramped.
"What the fu-heck is that? Since when could you make plants into deathtraps?"
You don't answer her. You can feel your consciousness slipping away from you. Your stamina won't make it to the end. There are too many of them. You try having the plant use one of the zombies as nourishment through its roots. The zombie explodes into monster dust after a small number of nutrients pass through.
Luckily, the smallest amount of nourishment sees you through to the end of the horde. There's only you and Blossom in the empty bus. You realize why life outside of camp for demigods is deadly. As you start to slip away, you just see a golden glint where Skotia was standing. Drachma.
"Get coin… Mist… Call dad," you mumble.
"No, you can't pass out, you promised me you'd explain what the hell's happening. Stay with me!"
You feel a tug. It's not forceful, or particularly strong, but it does seem to be enough to keep you conscious. It's nice to have a theory confirmed. You pinch yourself to keep yourself from drifting off. You're not in danger of passing out anymore, but you're still exhausted enough that you feel as though you could sleep for the rest of the day and the whole night.
"Can't use cell phones, monsters attracted to them."
Blossom nods. "Ok, what do we do?"
"Vampire had money, golden coins, we need them and mist."
"How are we supposed to get mist?"
"I don't know!"
There's a moment of silence where Blossom thinks and you try not to fall asleep. "I think I have some bug spray? Would that work?"
"Probably?"
"Ok, give me a minute to go get the coins."
She walks out of the bus and down the steps to go get the coins. When she returns, you've managed to find the bug spray in her backpack. A quick spritz seems to create a mist with a rainbow in it. It'll have to do. Blossom returns with three golden drachmae.
"What do we do now?"
"Swap with me." You hand her the bug spray and she hands you the coins. She also hands you a fang.
"Why did you pick this up?" you question blearily.
"I dunno, it was with the coins! I don't know what I'm doing!" You kind of feel bad about explaining literally nothing to her, but you're also too tired to care.
"Spray the bug spray continuously to make a mist." She holds down the button on the top, letting out a mist of bug spray. You can just make out a rainbow in the mist. Well, here goes nothing.
"Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering." you didn't actually know what you were going to say before you said it, but the words seem to tumble out of your mouth with no prompting.
You chuck a drachma into the mist. Blossom gapes at you.
"Show me, my dad," you say.
To your slight surprise, and Blossom's extreme surprise, your dad's face shows up. He looks incredibly shocked.
"Hey dad, can you come and get us. We're in Queens or maybe Brooklyn. I'm not sure." You turn to Blossom, "What street are we on?"
"Let me go check. You still owe me an explanation!"
"What happened!?" your dad asks.
"Trent was a monster, he was after Blossom I think. I'm gonna pass out now, I don't actually remember how you hang these up."
You wake up at home, in your bed. Clearly, something must have gone right. Judging by a quick glance out the window, it's morning. You do your morning ablutions and head out of your bedroom to see your dad eating breakfast. It's Sunday, so he doesn't have any work.
"Morning, Sam," he says. He sounds tired. It wasn't even that late in the afternoon when you got back, so he should have had ample time to sleep. He gets up and puts a plate in front of you. Eggs and bacon, you suppose that he's trying to comfort you after that near-death experience you had. To be honest, you don't feel particularly scared anymore, though you recognize that that's odd. Is it your reincarnated mindset, or your demigod nature?
"Where's Blossom?"
"She's sleeping in the guest bedroom. There's something I need to talk to you about. Your mother told me about a place for you, where you would be safe, or at least as safe as you can be. I don't know if Blossom is… like you, but I suppose the people at that place would be the ones who know how to figure that out." Ah, this is the Camp Half-Blood talk. "I explained everything I knew to Blossom last night since it's clear that she saw what you saw, so she's either like you, or she's "clear-sighted." He still doesn't actually know what that means. He sighs. "Sam, I haven't done a good job as your father."
"What? No, you've been a great dad."
"I should have taken you there as soon as you figured out your own heritage. I… thought I could protect you, but it's become clear that I can't. I'm sorry for putting you at risk."
"Wha- Dad!"
"You've always been mature. So I'll leave the decision up to you. I don't know about this place, but I know that even there, it's dangerous, perhaps more so than staying at home sometimes."
Only vote for Preparation if you don't vote to go to Camp.
[][Camp] You should go, it's only for the summers, right?
[][Camp] You want to be a bit older and more skilled before you go to Camp Half-Blood. (What do 4 things do you focus on for the next year?)
-[][Preparation] Join a Martial Arts Dojo of some kind.
--[][Preparation] Karate
--[][Preparation] Taekwondo
--[][Preparation] Judo
--[][Preparation] Jujutsu
--[][Preparation] Krav Maga
-[][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis
-[][Preparation] Read up on Greek Legends
-[][Preparation] Join a sports team (Athleticism is important after all)
--[][Preparation] Soccer
--[][Preparation] Football
--[][Preparation] Write-in.
-[][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist.
-[][Preparation] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
-[][Preparation] Your dad knows how to shoot a gun, maybe you should start taking gun safety courses so you can have one as well.
-[][Preparation] They almost certainly have Archery lessons for kids your age. You should learn how to fire a bow.
-[][Preparation] Your dad knows how to set traps for game, you just need to figure out how to make them work on monsters.
-[][Preparation] You should probably learn some first-aid skills at some point.
-[][Preparation] Maybe try and make some friends?
-[][Preparation] Write-in.
You gained 5 EXP Points in Chlorokinesis.
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Votes for the next chapter:
I feel as though many gods would be more than willing to fake their death to get out of a relationship they're bored of. Also, what makes you assume that it's her mother who crippled Blossom? Just because they happened at the same time doesn't mean that they have the same instigator.
[X][Camp] You want to be a bit older and more skilled before you go to Camp Half-Blood. (What do 4 things do you focus on for the next year?)
-[X][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist. #1
-[X][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis #1
-[X][Preparation] Speak to Blossom, try to help/teach her what we can.
-[X][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist. #2
You're not quite ready to say goodbye to Blossom just yet. You've known each other for a year, and for that year, she's been your only friend. Plus, you just went through a life and death experience with her. If you were her, you'd appreciate your friend explaining to you rather than someone you had never met before.
"I don't think I want to go yet. I still want to be with you after all, and I don't feel quite ready yet," you tell your dad. He nods in acceptance of your statement. "Also, about Blossom, I'm pretty sure that she is a demigod like me, but I think we should hold off on taking her to camp."
This time, he's shocked. "What? Why? If what you're saying is true, then doesn't her being here just put her in more danger? I mean, she can't even run away, let alone fight properly. "
"I'm confident that I can protect her as long as she's here. I took down the Vrykolakas even when there wasn't any soil around to grow my plants in, besides I'm not saying she should stay here forever, just until the end of summer. I think that she would appreciate a familiar environment after what she's been through," you reason. It used to bother you how high-pitched your voice is, but by now, you've just accepted it.
"Alright, if you think that's best." You're still not sure how you've convinced your father that you are dependable in all matters supernatural. Perhaps it's his own feelings of inadequacy or the fact that you figured it out yourself rather than having to be told.
About an hour later, Blossom wakes up and your dad helps her down the stairs. The fact that she still looks pretty, even when she's wearing the wrinkled and dirty clothes she was wearing yesterday and she has a total bedhead only adds evidence to your guess that she's a daughter of Aphrodite. Well, that and the charmspeak. At least, you were pretty sure it was charmspeak. You don't know of anything else in this world that functions quite the same, but there might be a lot you don't know about this world.
She wolfs down the breakfast your dad made her, same as you, eggs and bacon with toast. After eating, she appears slightly more awake. She glances at your dad before her eyes settle on you.
"So, care to explain what happened yesterday?"
"Well, a vampire attacked us with his army of zombies," you say as if that explains everything. She gives you a flat look. "Ok, so you know Greek mythology, gods and monsters. That sort of thing?" She nods. "What if I told you it was all real, and that monster we fought yesterday was a Vrykolakas, the Greek version of a vampire."
"Then… why was he after me? Is it because of my legs? And why hasn't anyone noticed yet?"
"No one has noticed because there's this supernatural…" you don't want to call it The Mist since no one has told you it's called The Mist, so you shouldn't know that name, "film that prevents people from noticing. Only certain people can see through it.
"I can't see through it at all," your Dad volunteers.
"I can see through it because I'm a demigod. My mother is a goddess and I'm pretty sure yours is as well. That's why the vampire was after us."
Blossom just sits there and gapes at you. Then she squints at you, trying to decide if you've gone crazy, or if you've been crazy the whole time and she just hasn't noticed.
"Ok, so let's say I believe you. Who's your mother? Which goddess is she?"
You glance at your dad. "My mother is Demeter, Goddess of Agriculture. It's why I'm so good with plants."
She snorts and looks pointedly around at your, admittedly lush, house. "That explains soooo much. Wait, if my mother is a goddess then that means…" She skips over denial and goes straight to anger. "That bi-" You slap your hand over her mouth. Frankly, you're slightly surprised that Blossom cursed since she never has before, but you have no illusions as to where she learned those words.
She looks petulantly at you, then licks your hand. You sigh and retract it. "Blossom, your mom was- is a goddess. Calling her names won't win you any favors."
"And why should I care? What would I even want from her? After all, she already gave me this!" she points at her own legs.
"It's not really about her. It's about you. They tend not to like it when you call them names even their own children, and they punish them for it. I just don't want anything to happen to you." You feel slightly bad, pulling the guilt card, but it's the only way you can think to calm her down.
She sighs and looks faintly ashamed, but you have no doubt that her anger towards her mother still burns underneath the surface.
"So what do I do?"
"Huh?"
"Sam, my legs don't work. I can't fight like you. I can't even run away. What am I supposed to do when another monster attacks us?"
You glance at your dad. "I can manage this summer since there's a lot of plants in my home. Monsters, like we fought yesterday, can't harm me in here. After this summer, well, there's a place for demigods. I don't think it's exactly safe, but it's safer."
"Where is it?" you glance at your dad as she asks the obvious question.
"It's at the East end of Long Island."
She turns back to you. "Ok. I think I believe you, or at least I'm willing to reserve judgment. Can you do that plant-growth thing again?"
You grin. "Sure." You glance over to where several tulips are growing in a bed. These are the offspring of the tulips you got for your third birthday. They'res still quite young, not even beginning to flower yet. You reach out to one, and as you do, it blossoms into a fully grown pink tulip. You pluck it easily, one of the benefits of plant manipulation. You'd done a bit of reading on the language of flowers, mainly because you'd been curious. Pink tulips had several meanings, but as you held it out to Blossom, there was one at the forefront of your mind. Friendship.
She giggles at your showmanship and takes the flower before petting your hair. "So, what do you wanna do for the summer?"
What do you teach Blossom for the summer before she heads to camp? Pick as many as you like, though the fewer you pick, the more benefit you receive from teaching her.
[][Blossom] Teach her about Greek Mythology.
[][Blossom] Learn to read Ancient Greek with her.
[][Blossom] Teach her about all your plants.
[][Blossom] Try and train her to use her charmspeak, if she has it.
[][Blossom] Write-in.
School without Blossom is more lonely than you remember. For one, they won't let you finish eighth grade in half a year since the teachers want you to "graduate" from middle school with everybody else. As always, schoolwork was absurdly easy for you, so you found yourself with a lot of free time. You spent that free time by throwing yourself into training your powers. Getting better at making plants grow as you wanted was difficult since plants would basically do whatever you said, at least as long as you weren't trying to control too many. You tried expanding the number of plants you controlled, but that only seemed to tire you out quickly. Instead, you focused on lowering the amount of energy you spend when you command plants to grow. It's easier than trying to control many plants, but that doesn't mean it was easy. You spent a lot of time simply too tired to do anything.
You hadn't seen another monster since the incident with the Vrykolakas. You weren't sure whether to be relieved or upset. For one, you were just used to being stalked by zombies at this point. It was sort of strange not to have any around. A lack of monsters was good since it meant you could train yourself harder, and that there was less danger towards you and your dad. It did put you on edge though, you kept expecting to just walk around the corner into a group of cannibalistic giants or something. Fortunately, or maybe, unfortunately, it seemed that the Vrykolakas had used his zombies to clear the area around of any other monsters, so you weren't attacked at all during the summer and the fall semester.
The biggest surprise came during the holidays when you got a letter from Blossom. A letter! It was kind of hilarious to think that this was probably the cheapest, most cost-effective way for Demigods to communicate non-urgently. Her letter gushed about Camp Half-blood and how cool it was and how much she was learning about being a demigod. She also told you that you should come as soon as you could.
You wrote back, telling her about your boring year at school without her. For a moment, you were tempted to ask your dad to take you there, but then you wouldn't get to spend time with him over the holidays, though he did tend to be busier during them since a lot more people went to visit the parks with their families.
The spring semester was equally as boring as the fall semester when it came to school, and after having spent so long as a social pariah with Blossom, no one else in your eighth-grade class would dein to speak to you.
Working on improving your efficiency was getting tedious, to the point where you felt that if you kept trying you would burn out. Not in the spontaneous combustion sense, but in the stress level sense. So, you switched it up, you went and got your ninth birthday present. Despite your ability to grow plants from seeds with little effort, your dad always went out of his way to get you flowers in full bloom for your birthday. It was just another way for him to show you how much he cared about you. This year it was saffron crocus, imported from the contested territory of Kashmir. You made sure that you had several spare flowers before you started trying to imbue them with energy.
[][Imbue] You went for simpler concepts, that you felt you could achieve easily. (pick 2)
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of piercing, since you want to stab things with your plants.
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of suppression. It certainly won't suppress anything significant, but it might make your opponent weaker
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of durability. That way it will be harder for your enemies to break free from them.
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of nutrition. You won't need to find too many edible plants if you ever need to forage for food.
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of speed. The plant will certainly respond to your commands more quickly, and may even grow faster.
[][Imbue] You attempted something more advanced (Pick 1)
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of electricity. Hey, eels can do it, so why not plants?
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of sound. Maybe you can use them to trick people or perform ventriloquy.
-[][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of time, you're not quite sure what that will do, but it will certainly be interesting.
Over 1 year, you have gained 15 EXP Points in the Concept of Growth and 5 EXP Points in Chlorokinesis.
Of course, you didn't lose all contact with the supernatural. After your eighth-grade graduation, your dad took you out to one of the larger parks in Long Island. Since you both enjoyed being outdoors, it was a great way to spend time together. Shortly after you'd gotten there, your dad had been called off to go find someone who had gotten lost. That left you alone. The parks were some of the few places your dad was willing to leave you like that. It almost felt as safe as being at home, all the nature around you, willing to jump to your defense if you were ever in danger.
This newest contact with the mythical world wasn't dangerous, or at least it didn't seem so at first. You glanced over to a section of forest near the path, and to your surprise, you saw a woman standing there. When she saw you notice her, she smiled brilliantly at you. You had the feeling that if you were old enough to like girls, you would be blushing like crazy. Then, she beckoned you over to her, and you were immediately on guard. Attractive women did not beckon young boys into the forest unless they were pedophiles or something. You examined her more closely, and that was when you noticed them, the points on her ears. She had pointed elven ears. Which was probably important somehow.
She beckoned you again, and you doubted she would be willing to wait much longer for you.
[][Park] Follow the woman with elf ears.
[][Park] Remain stubbornly where you're standing.
[][Park] Write-in.
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Votes for the next chapter:
[25][Blossom] Learn to read Ancient Greek with her.
[25][Blossom] Teach her about Greek Mythology.
[23][Blossom] Try and train her to use her charmspeak, if she has it.
[33][Imbue] You went for simpler concepts, that you felt you could achieve easily. (pick 2)
-[27][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of durability. That way it will be harder for your enemies to break free from them.
-[17][Imbue] Imbue the plant with the concept of speed. The plant will certainly respond to your commands more quickly, and may even grow faster.
[25][Park] Follow the woman with elf ears.
Uncharacteristically, you spent most of your summer indoors. About half of it was spent teaching Blossom everything you knew about Greek Mythology, which was admittedly mostly just general details. You were really feeling the lack of Wikipedia. Google was also really new, wait, shouldn't you try and leverage your future knowledge to make you and your dad exceptionally wealthy? Eh, something to do later. You were firmly middle class, perhaps even upper middle class, but there was no way for your dad to get involved with Google at this early stage, at least as far as you knew. You shoved those thoughts away and went back to teaching Blossom all about Greek mythology.
You definitely overestimated how much knowledge she had going in. Hell, she barely knew who Zeus was and was often-times confused by the various methods that he somehow successfully used to seduce women, which was a topic you really didn't want to get into but was basically impossible to avoid. To be fair, it baffled you as well. More to the point, what with her dad being a useless drunk and it not being part of the curriculum up until the current point, you found yourself teaching her mostly the basics, the common sense things like who the Olympian Gods were and the basic history behind each of them. You noted that she never ever asked who you thought her mother was. You weren't sure if she figured it out or simply didn't want to know, but you didn't pry either.
The next part would be learning Ancient Greek together. Unfortunately, it seemed that getting resources on Ancient Greek was notoriously difficult. You also didn't actually know what the differences were between Ancient and Modern Greek, so you were prepared to settle for just learning Modern Greek, but your dad pulled through and ordered some beginner textbooks on Ancient Greek off of Amazon, which was still a bookstore and not even five years old yet. It was strange to know that the tech giants that you remembered were still in their formative years. If you weren't so preoccupied with the whole Greek Mythology stuff, you'd be tempted to see what you could go and do in California. As it was, Greek was… interesting. It seemed your brain was hard-wired to speak Ancient Greek, but not to read it. You had to do that part manually. Still, the Greeks used a phonetic Alphabet so once you got used to the letters, the words came easily enough with your benefits as a Demigod. The only part where you struggled was figuring out what was the subject and what was the object. Usually, it was obvious, but sometimes it wasn't, and then it would depend on the way the word was inflected. To your embarrassment, Blossom was significantly better at it than you. Perhaps it had to do with her only now learning the more obscure rules of English grammar.
Lastly was trying to get her to replicate her feat of charmspeak. Out of all of your tasks, this was by far the hardest.
"I still don't get what you're trying to make me do."
"Charmspeak is the ability to… be more persuasive."
"And tell me again why you expect me to be able to do it when you can't?"
"I know you can do it, you did it back in the bus, to prevent me from passing out."
"You said it was supposed to be rare, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what if I didn't actually use it, and you're just remembering incorrectly? You were pretty out of it."
"Come on, just a couple more tries. I know I remember you using charmspeak."
"Can we just drop it?"
"Ok," you agree immediately. It takes a second to process what just happened fully. You can see how people who don't know about charmspeak would be unable to figure out what happened to them. You grin at Blossom. "That was it!"
You frown for a second as you review what it felt like. Blossom's charmspeak certainly didn't last very long, but that might just be because she hasn't practiced it. It also didn't feel very strong, but you can explain that by positing that her charmspeak is based more on persuasion than force-of-will. Quitting charmspeak training certainly seemed like a good idea when she said it.
"Great," she says flatly, clearly unimpressed. "Can we go back to learning all the myths. At least that's actually interesting. Or, do you want me to kick your but at Ancient Greek again?"
You sigh and you can feel the plants in your home respond to your frustration, trying to convey feelings of contentment. It's odd, but you're always calmer around them, and more motivated as well.
You get up to go get the Ancient Greek textbook. You might as well let her bask in her superiority since she accomplished charmspeaking. It won't hurt your knowledge to try and catch up to her as well.
You have gained 5 x 2 (Demigod) = 10 EXP Points in Ancient Greek and 3 EXP Points in Greek Mythology.
You hesitate for a moment, seeing the elfin woman beckoning to you. Your first thought is that she's a monster, trying to lure you away from mortals to kill and/or trap you. Sure, she might look like a Dryad, but there's no guaranteeing she is after all that Vrykolakas managed to disguise himself to look like a satyr in disguise.
Then, you remember that you're in the middle of Hither Hills State Park, one of the largest parks on Long Island, which means you're practically surrounded by plants that you can use to defend yourself at a moment's notice. That, and you've never actually even seen a monster in any of the numerous parks you've visited all throughout your life. There's a first time for everything, but perhaps… things are as they appear sometimes.
You walk over to the elven woman.
"Hello?"
She grins, and you're struck by her extraordinary beauty. You're certain that if you were old enough to be physically attracted to the opposite gender, or anyone really, then you'd be struck by something else, but right now it's just awe. "Would you like to come play with me and my sisters?" she asks.
You can't help but grin as well. "Sure."
She turns and leads you deeper into the woods. You're not sure how deep you go, but you do remember that Hither Hills is like 80% wooded forest, so you could really be anywhere. You do notice that as you walk, more inhumanly beautiful women with elf features join up with the dryad leading you, trailing slightly behind you and her. The color of their skin ranges from the pale white of the one who you saw first to a sort of light green color. Their hair comes in many colors, ranging from blonde, brunette, redheads, and even some with green hair, or leaves instead of hair. They make an interesting group and by the time you reach your destination, there are at least 40 Dryads in your posse. It's pretty clear that the blonde dryad leading you is a leader figure.
Your destination is a sort of clearing in the woods around a particularly large tree, though there is a single, significantly younger tree that is also in this clearing. The dryad who is leading you walks you right up next to it. You wait for a moment, and another dryad walks right out of the tree. This one is the youngest one you've seen so far. Her human form looks about Blossom's age. She inspects you visually at first. Then, she strolls over you and picks you up by your armpits. You are so utterly surprised that you offer up no resistance. She examines you once more from up close.
"Cute," she states emphatically, and then buries her nose in your hair and sniffs you. You have no idea what the hell is going on. You manage to twist your neck just enough to see your guide. You give her a silent plea for help. She just looks at the young dryad with a fond, almost motherly expression on her face. Wait… Nope! Nevermind. You don't want to even think about that, and you especially don't want to think about exactly how a dryad gets a daughter. You can deal with that when you're older.
The teenage dryad sets you down and then the leader dryad turns to the group and nods once. You are suddenly mobbed by dryads. You're slightly surprised by how relaxed you are. You would have expected your combat instincts to kick in or something, but you just like your plants, you can feel their intent. It's not as clear, but you can still get the gist of it. For the most part, they are curious about you, some are feeling playful, while other mischievous, but none of them are in any way malicious. So, you relax into the Dryads tender mercies.
Sometimes, they have you dance with them, or even more than one of them at a time. It is a challenge because they are so much taller than you, but they seem to find your struggles to keep up with them endearing Others want you to play childish games like hide and seek or tag. You always lose of course, but that's only because the dryads have longer legs than you, not because they hop in and out of trees. A couple of them apparently just want to have you sit in your lap and pet your hair, which is a bit odd, but you let them do it anyway. They seem pleased by this.
Eventually, you convince them that you need to go before your father gets worried about you. They pout, but they don't try too hard to keep you there. They do, however, make you presents as you leave, which mostly includes jewelry made out of flowers. You wind up with a flower crown, several garlands, and a few bracelets on each hand made of flowers. Your guide doesn't present you with one, but her daughter is holding a flower in her hand and looking shy. Her mother pushes her by the small of her back towards you. As she gets closer, you notice that it's a pear blossom.
"Thank you for playing with us," she says as she carefully tucks the flower in your hair. "If you are ever in need of aid, simply wish upon the bloom and our sisters or cousins will aid you." Her speech sounds rehearsed, and somehow you know that the pear blossom is a one-time-only thing. "My name is Pear…" the teenage dryad continues. "D-Do come play with us again."
"I'll try," you say, not wanting to make a promise you're not sure you can keep. Behind Pear's shoulder, you can see her mother beaming at the two of you. Yes, sometimes things are exactly as they seem.
When you return you see your father waiting for you, looking calmer than he should if you were to go missing. When he catches sight of you, he starts laughing like crazy.
"Had a run-in with a flower monster?" he jokes.
"Actually, I met some Dryads," you say, fingering the pear blossom still in your hair.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, they wanted to meet me and play games with me. It was fun."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"Were you not worried that I was gone?"
"Normally I would be, but here? I think that in these parks I never feel worried about your safety. It almost feels like your mother is watching over you, you know?"
You don't know, but you nod anyway.
"I suppose it's been a year, hasn't it? Since you decided to wait on going to the place for demigods. Like always, I would prefer if you never left home, but you're already ready to make your own decisions. Do you feel as though you're ready to go now?
You think on the time. It's summer 1999, which means you have 2 years before the trio of ill-fated demigods come barrelling down long-island. That's… some time.
Only vote for Preparation if you don't vote to go to Camp. For preparation votes, if you want to choose the same vote multiple times, please vote similarly to the following
-[][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis
-[][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis #2
And so on and so forth.
[][Camp] You should go, it's only for the summers, right?
[][Camp] You want to be a bit older and more skilled before you go to Camp Half-Blood. (What do 4 things do you focus on for the next year?)
-[][Preparation] Join a Martial Arts Dojo of some kind.
--[][Preparation] Karate
--[][Preparation] Taekwondo
--[][Preparation] Judo
--[][Preparation] Jujutsu
--[][Preparation] Krav Maga
-[][Preparation] Train your Chlorokinesis
-[][Preparation] Read up on Greek Legends
-[][Preparation] Join a sports team (Athleticism is important after all)
--[][Preparation] Soccer
--[][Preparation] Football
--[][Preparation] Write-in.
-[][Preparation] Practice imbuing plants with qualities they shouldn't have and sometimes qualities that shouldn't exist.
-[][Preparation] Have your dad teach you how to survive on your own. Not just in the wilderness, but in cities too.
-[][Preparation] Your dad knows how to shoot a gun, maybe you should start taking gun safety courses so you can have one as well.
-[][Preparation] They almost certainly have Archery lessons for kids your age. You should learn how to fire a bow.
-[][Preparation] Your dad knows how to set traps for game, you just need to figure out how to make them work on monsters.
-[][Preparation] You should probably learn some first-aid skills at some point.
-[][Preparation] Maybe try and make some friends?
-[][Preparation] Write-in.
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Votes for the next chapter:
Well, I think I got the character interactions down well, though I'm not entirely sure if my interpretation of dryads is right. It felt right when I was writing so I guess they must be at least similar.
