A Place For Everything and Everything Out of Place (Open)
Feb 20, 2017 6:53:10 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Feb 20, 2017 6:53:10 GMT -5
The world looked distorted.
Standing there, among the grizzled trees of the forest as the sun hung high in the afternoon sky, shedding a comforting warmth through the trees that sank welcomingly into Alex's bones, the most persistent thought he could manage was that 'this was weird.' Not the forest, necessarily; the vast expanse of verdant growth felt familiar to him, the constant sounds of distant creatures scurrying across the leave strewn floor or of some bird chattering giddily in the boughs as it soaked in the sunlight, all of it was very familiar to him. Yet, somehow, nothing was the same anymore. Zanna crouched next to his leg, patient and steady like a rock ready to weather any storm that may yet come their way. He may not have to wait for long, if the feelings roiling in Alex's stomach and the pressure in his chest meant anything.
Only three weeks had past since his last encounter with the Wheezy brothers in Colorado. Three weeks, and now everything about his life, everything that he had once known, seemed minuscule and incomplete, whole new areas of boundless change peeling open before his eyes. It had taken a week to get camp where, apparently, others like him were currently residing. Others being demi-gods, children of mortal and godly descent, who all seemed to take his presence there far easier than he had. Perhaps they were used to it, perhaps it was easier for them to comprehend, but for him it was a tidal wave of unfamiliar faces and sounds and smells, all crammed uncomfortably into a large pill he'd had to swallow dry.
Upon entering the borders to the camp, Alex had felt the change in the air like a blanket of muffling sound draped over his skin. Shortly afterward, once reaching the main compound, a golden sun-burst had appeared over his head like his own personal spot-light, shining a beacon on his new existence as something he had only the faintest idea of. A son of the god Apollo, a demi-god of Camp Half-Blood.
Too many new faces all at once, he'd decided, too much noise to handle, too much change. For five years Alex had been on the run, alone except for the occasional few interactions he'd received as he fled from the monsters perpetually after his skin, or for Zanna. The wolf had remained constant at his side and he could not imagine being separated from him now. As it was, the large timber preferred to roam the woods rather than enter the camp proper, and Alex was all to quick to join him when he could.
Gleaming at his side, bringing a sense of protection that Alex had not felt since he'd been a boy, was a large knife crafted of what was apparently known as Celestial Bronze. It was the only way to injure the monsters that roamed the forest, as his own bow had continually proven ineffectual from the many encounters of strange creatures over the years, and the young demi-god had already tested its blade. He was astounded at the effect it had, causing the monsters to burst into the golden dust that signaled their obliteration, a feat he had come to think could only be achieved by forcing them to kill each other or trap themselves. Five years of constant running, unable to even defend himself, and now everything just sort of... fell into place.
Except for him.
"Do you think its this difficult for everyone to adjust?" Alex took a seat on the ground, propping himself against the thick base of a tree. Rough bark pressed at his back through his thin shirt, but he paid it no mind; endless nights sleeping on the ground int eh forest had provided him with an unyielding tolerance for roughing it. "Why are there so many of them here?"
Many gods. Long lives. They get bored.
"Always the best excuse for another kid, so I've heard."
Zanna shifted his position to face Alex, still sitting on his haunches. He cocked his head to the side slightly, a mannerism that Alex had found meant he was considering something important or he was curious. Should we leave?
The question had floated through his mind more than few times over the past few weeks as he tried to absorb the reality of what was happening around him, but even though the process of adapting was difficult, he didn't think he could just go back to being ignorant. Not after learning everything he'd learned. Before, Alex had constantly been on the lookout for danger because it was always present, always waiting to rip him into little demi-god pieces. Knowing that there was a reason for it? Knowing that there were others who faced the same trials and he was not alone in the world? It was too tantalizing to forsake so easily.
"No. Its not like it would change much. We have to overcome, right? Besides, they have tacos here. Who could say no to that?"
I can.
"Yeah but you eat dead stuff raw so I think I'll reserve my judgement."
Zanna sat quietly for a few moments, then lifted his snout and sniffed twice at the air. He rose to all four feet and sniffed again. Someone approaches.
Standing there, among the grizzled trees of the forest as the sun hung high in the afternoon sky, shedding a comforting warmth through the trees that sank welcomingly into Alex's bones, the most persistent thought he could manage was that 'this was weird.' Not the forest, necessarily; the vast expanse of verdant growth felt familiar to him, the constant sounds of distant creatures scurrying across the leave strewn floor or of some bird chattering giddily in the boughs as it soaked in the sunlight, all of it was very familiar to him. Yet, somehow, nothing was the same anymore. Zanna crouched next to his leg, patient and steady like a rock ready to weather any storm that may yet come their way. He may not have to wait for long, if the feelings roiling in Alex's stomach and the pressure in his chest meant anything.
Only three weeks had past since his last encounter with the Wheezy brothers in Colorado. Three weeks, and now everything about his life, everything that he had once known, seemed minuscule and incomplete, whole new areas of boundless change peeling open before his eyes. It had taken a week to get camp where, apparently, others like him were currently residing. Others being demi-gods, children of mortal and godly descent, who all seemed to take his presence there far easier than he had. Perhaps they were used to it, perhaps it was easier for them to comprehend, but for him it was a tidal wave of unfamiliar faces and sounds and smells, all crammed uncomfortably into a large pill he'd had to swallow dry.
Upon entering the borders to the camp, Alex had felt the change in the air like a blanket of muffling sound draped over his skin. Shortly afterward, once reaching the main compound, a golden sun-burst had appeared over his head like his own personal spot-light, shining a beacon on his new existence as something he had only the faintest idea of. A son of the god Apollo, a demi-god of Camp Half-Blood.
Too many new faces all at once, he'd decided, too much noise to handle, too much change. For five years Alex had been on the run, alone except for the occasional few interactions he'd received as he fled from the monsters perpetually after his skin, or for Zanna. The wolf had remained constant at his side and he could not imagine being separated from him now. As it was, the large timber preferred to roam the woods rather than enter the camp proper, and Alex was all to quick to join him when he could.
Gleaming at his side, bringing a sense of protection that Alex had not felt since he'd been a boy, was a large knife crafted of what was apparently known as Celestial Bronze. It was the only way to injure the monsters that roamed the forest, as his own bow had continually proven ineffectual from the many encounters of strange creatures over the years, and the young demi-god had already tested its blade. He was astounded at the effect it had, causing the monsters to burst into the golden dust that signaled their obliteration, a feat he had come to think could only be achieved by forcing them to kill each other or trap themselves. Five years of constant running, unable to even defend himself, and now everything just sort of... fell into place.
Except for him.
"Do you think its this difficult for everyone to adjust?" Alex took a seat on the ground, propping himself against the thick base of a tree. Rough bark pressed at his back through his thin shirt, but he paid it no mind; endless nights sleeping on the ground int eh forest had provided him with an unyielding tolerance for roughing it. "Why are there so many of them here?"
Many gods. Long lives. They get bored.
"Always the best excuse for another kid, so I've heard."
Zanna shifted his position to face Alex, still sitting on his haunches. He cocked his head to the side slightly, a mannerism that Alex had found meant he was considering something important or he was curious. Should we leave?
The question had floated through his mind more than few times over the past few weeks as he tried to absorb the reality of what was happening around him, but even though the process of adapting was difficult, he didn't think he could just go back to being ignorant. Not after learning everything he'd learned. Before, Alex had constantly been on the lookout for danger because it was always present, always waiting to rip him into little demi-god pieces. Knowing that there was a reason for it? Knowing that there were others who faced the same trials and he was not alone in the world? It was too tantalizing to forsake so easily.
"No. Its not like it would change much. We have to overcome, right? Besides, they have tacos here. Who could say no to that?"
I can.
"Yeah but you eat dead stuff raw so I think I'll reserve my judgement."
Zanna sat quietly for a few moments, then lifted his snout and sniffed twice at the air. He rose to all four feet and sniffed again. Someone approaches.
