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The Olympians

Discussion in 'General Role Play' started by Reynald, Feb 15, 2010.

  1. (Here is a link for the full list of gods and deities and the like http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Greek_mythological_figures#Olympian_deities. I am saying probably 4 or 5 people. I have two others already interested in joining so there is still some slots open. Ask me if you want to join please.)

    (As of now all spots have been filled. Myself, Belle, Dwayna, Chibi, Brendan, and Dark Soul. Sorry if you got left out. too many people makes the story crazier and take much longer. Thanks!)

    Hold on. Before you read any further there are some things I should probably warn you about:

    First thing is this. You know all those Greek Gods: Aphrodite, Apollo, Ares, Artemis, Athena, Demeter, Dionysus, Hades, Hephaestus, Hera, Hermes, Hestia, Poseidon, and Zeus? Guess what. They exist and they are here in the U.S.A.

    I know shocking right? You think people would notice guys trudging around in Greek battle armor and the like. In fact, the gods look just like you or me when they want to be. No one has seen a true gods form cause well…you would get disintegrated on the spot. Good reason to turn your head huh?

    Well it doesn't get much better from here. Because all the other gods, deities, Cyclopes, and monsters exist to! Right under your nose! You haven't seen them because of something called The Mist. It is this powerful substance that hides these monsters and gods from mortal eyes. The Mist tricks mortals into seeing other regular people instead of monsters, though people have been able to see through this before.

    The scariest part is monsters can only be killed by weapons made of Celestial Bronze. There are other types that will work but bronze is the most common. The good thing is, bronze weapons will not hurt mortals. They pass right through a mortal with no harm done. A monster will turn to dust on the other hand. That doesn't mean they are gone…though that would be lovely. No in fact they just disappear for awhile before reforming and hunting my kind down again.

    I know what you're thinking. What do you mean, "Your kind"? Well there is another thing you should probably know. The gods have been known to have kids with mortals. These kids end up being half human and half god, a demigod if you will. Demigod's have powers due to their godly parents. Pretty sweet huh! Unfortunately, our scent also draws monsters straight to us. If that isn't bad enough, we aren't lucky like the monsters. We are killed by any weapon, bronze or not. And when we die…there is no reforming later like nothing happened. Also we can get tricked by The Mist too if we get caught off guard. Most kids do not know who their demigod parents are until that god claims them as their own.

    The most powerful of the gods are Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. Children of these three have extra ordinary powers and draw monsters like crazy. Until recently, these three weren't allowed to have kids for fear of what would happen. Nowadays they aren't so strict, though there are rarely more than one or two kids from these gods.

    A demigod usually is diagnosed with ADHD and Dyslexia in the mortal world. Words float off the pages and rearrange themselves and we have a hard time sitting still. This is our battle reflexes talking and our brains are hardwired to read ancient Greek. It's easier than English anyways.

    Now this is all pretty depressing I know but there is a place for Demigods to go and train without being hounded by monsters day and night. Camp Half-Blood. We'll get into that later. But if you end up being a demigod, it won't take long before a Satyr comes along and tries to get you back to the camp safely. Mortals and monsters can't cross the barrier into camp. So there is one positive thing huh.

    I wish I had known all this when it happened to me.

    My name is Isaac Winter.

    And my life was about to go off the deep end.

    (This is a brief rundown of basic things in this world. It is based off the Percy Jackson series if you have read it. If not, then I would recommend it because the books are awesome. I don't care who your god parents are but I would like it if we all started in generally the same area. Back to the story!)



    Isaac yawned and tried to focus on his English teacher who was droning on about MLA format or something like that. He took one look at the board and shook his head. It took him a minute to decipher the white words. It looked to him like, "Tdoya We Wlil tSydu MLA". He almost had it when the bell rang letting the students leave. Isaac gathered his books, stuffed them into his bag and left gratefully.

    Isaac went to school at the Olympian Boarding School in New York. It was a newly constructed school for kids with ADHD and Dyslexia. Isaac was an orphan and the school was kind enough to pretty much let him stay year round, though when school was out he had to buy his own food rather than eat at the cafeteria. Isaac was your typical 16 year old kid; Chin length brown hair that never seemed to stay in any known style, deep green eyes, 5'10 and average weight. He wore a generic black t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers with a wrist watch that he checked constantly. He was also your typical outcast. Kids generally avoided him when they could help it. It wasn't that Isaac was mean or anything, just not popular. Plus every other school he had been to kicked him out eventually. Things just went wrong around him and the teachers had no one else to blame but Isaac.

    Isaac made his way to his last class of the day, Greek Mythology. It was the one class he actually could handle. The stuff fascinated him. Well, it held his attention longer than any other class which wasn't very long. The teacher, Mr. Daniels, was a riot. It was easy to like his class when instead of lecturing, he usually had a lab or some game for us to play. Isaac has rarely had to open his book in the class, save for the homework that was given every night.

    Isaac skirted the edge of the classroom and took a seat by the window overlooking the park outside and across the street from the school. Hopefully Mr. Daniels would have something new for them to do. Isaac pulled out his sketchbook and began to doodle idly, waiting for the teacher.

    He couldn't have guessed this would be the last time his days would be normal.
     
    #1 Reynald, Feb 15, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  2. Dwayna DragonFire

    Dwayna DragonFire 2014 Little Cup Champion

    ((OOC: This looks like it's going to be awesome. Already have talked with Reynald about what I wanted to be, so here she is.))

    BIC:

    Destiny was usually seen as something that one was meant to accept and embrace, but some people had other thoughts. Some people refused to accept their destiny, and continued to run from it, only to be shown that it continued to follow them. Ann Stone was one of the people who tried, and constantly failed, to outrun her destiny.

    In appearances, Ann Stone seemed to look like a normal twenty year old woman, but seemed to have a bit of an ethereal quality to her. Her hair came down in long locks as black as ravens feathers, her skin so pale white it could almost be compared to snow, and her eyes dark pools of blue like the midnight sky. Nowadays she typically wore all black, in the form of a trench coat, long formal pants and combat boots.

    Ann had always known she was a bit of a strange child, as she was diagnosed with ADHD and Dyslexia, causing her to be looked down upon by most of the world. As an orphan who had this problem, it wasn't easy to get loving parents who could tolerate that level of 'failure', as it were. However, this strangeness passed beyond normal human standards when she turned fifteen.

    Recently, her adoptive parents had gotten into a car crash, or so she had been told. Before the government could come pick her up, she heard a strange noise outside her door. When she opened it to look, there she found a small black kitten on her front porch, looking up at her with big, red eyes which proceeded to glow brightly. Before Ann knew it, the darkness of the cat had expanded and engulfed her entire vision, the only thing she could see being those red eyes staring back at her.

    She fell into a deep sleep, dreaming that the red eyes turned into a great flame before dissolving. When she woke, Ann found herself in a camp of sorts, and the cat started speaking to her somehow. The cat told her exactly why she had always felt like she was different, and that was when she began running from her destiny.

    ---

    Five years had passed and still she found no solace from the different things that haunted her. Monsters chasing after her, legions of the undead wanting to side with her, even that damn cat had once morphed into a fully fledged hell-hound. Ann had run away from it all, trying to seek shelter wherever she went but finding none. She couldn't escape fate, as much as she tried, so bit by bit she began to accept that this was how things were meant to be.

    Ann could sense when other people were dying, or when other demigods such as herself were near. She was very attuned to the spirit world, and as such had ghosts following her around wherever she went. They stalked, haunted and even hunted her as she fled, the only thing to stand in her way being the cat companion that had started this whole thing. Right now the cat had lead her to Olympian Boarding School, which was a convenient name, all things considering. She stood outside the window of the classroom in which she sensed another like her, but not exactly the same.

    After all, no one could be exactly the same as Ann Stone, daughter of Hades.
     
  3. (Yus, I have been given permission to be here... I'm looking into finding the series in a library so I can stay caught up on certain things)

    New York; like many metropolitan cities, it was many individually different people, culture, and lifestyles. Towering the skyline, were massive corporation buildings where men and workers of rich backgrounds put twenty years of education into the use of multi-millionaires that could sack them the next day. These people were cold, unfriendly, and greedy, willingly enough to ruin the lives of their colleagues just to get that measly promotion. Underneath them, there were people just as hardworking as those above them were. They however were the friendlier faces of the city, having the time and money to be citizens of the world and raisers of happy families. Underneath them, there were the people who did not have the education to be so lucky, working hard just to provide food, shelter, and education for their families; they were good people too, just in a way that the untrained eye could not see. Finally, nestled between the massive buildings of global corporations, there were the slums. A network of tramps, beggars, pickpockets, thugs, janitors, and kitchen maids, all struggling with clenched teeth to provide for themselves, let alone the people they would care about. This class at the bottom of the pyramid could be split into two, the people that once belonged to the upper classes, but were shattered by the hammer of employment, and the people that were born, lived, and grew up in these harsh conditions. Those people were not happy, but they were happy enough to admit that this was whom they were, and this was how they lived.

    (random soquility intro :p, and now for something completely different)


    At eleven' o' clock, most of New York was as bustling as ever, at least where cars flew by, pedestrians strolled, and lights illuminated the city like a Christmas tree. However, where the roads were in disrepair, people seldom took merry walks, the streetlights were broken and smashed, and maze-like alleys spanned out like a spider's web, the city was practically dead. This was why it was the perfect place to settle a disagreement between two rival gangs the old savvy way. That is why Sammy Rouglitch, or infamously known as "The Spartan" was here, with five other members of his gang. Sammy was in his early twenties, with jet black hair, reddish-brown eyes, and an incredibly bulky physique. He wore dirty sneakers, jeans that were covered in holes from the thighs down, and a black shirt, with a purplish stain on the lower left. Most people would see it as a juice stain, but those that knew him knew who nearly got killed when it happened. It was now 11:07 and their rivals were late. Sammy was not too sure why they were fighting, something about an affair between members. It did not matter to him, what did matter was that he was being paid handsomely for a group brawl, six members on each side, and no firearms or casualties; a cake job. The alleyway was mostly plain, a graffiti drawn on the wall every ten meters or so, and a dumpster to one side, where most of Sammy's partners were gathered taking a smoke. Sammy himself was not too fond of the stuff, it just made him dizzy. 11:10, and finally their quarry appeared into view on the far side of the alley. Except, as they approached, Sammy saw that there were actually ten of them, all armed with baseball bats, crowbars, and knives. One of them, a fair-skinned man with a buzz cut just behind two dark-skinned men with beards that stood in front, gave the rules a double-whammy, and was carrying a revolver in his hand. Sammy's fellow gang members jeered at this, and were already holding their own club-like weapons poised, Sammy was the only one who was visibly unarmed.

    "Save your jeers gutterbugs! You're goin' to need them when you run off like babies." The man with the gun laughed, the majority of his gang joined the laugh, though a few kept quiet, and those were the ones that Sammy was familiar with.

    "Us? Gutterbugs? We would have seen you in the gutter as well if we were!" one of Sammy's partners jeered, this was received with high-fives from his friends.

    "You probably have, at least for a few of us." The man continued, his partners did not even realize that he was insulting them, something that would have proved fatal. He was confident, though perhaps the odds gave him the right to. "But you guys? You're still kiddies! I mean, 'The Spartan'. Where'd that name come from, you bookworms? Your history teacher?" This was met by even more laughter. Sammy looked towards his partners and gave a short nod; three of them gave a similar response, giving him their Okays. Sammy took the initiative and stepped briskly towards the gang while they were distracted

    "Yeah, their history teacher!" One of the men in front of the guy with the gun sneered, "Mmm, she was real-"

    "Then I had a fine education!" Sammy cut in, swinging his fist in an uppercut that connected with the man's jaw. The man fell backwards and landed on his back groaning, both sides immediately were thrown into a frenzy. Sammy looked up and saw the man with the gun taking aim, and the colleague of the man he just knocked down charging at him with a crowbar. Sammy grabbed this man by the arm and dragged him in front of him as the other man fired the gun. Sammy let the screaming man fall to the ground and cradle his bleeding arm. The man needed to reset the trigger to shoot again, and that was all Sammy needed to get in close quarters. He grabbed the man by the arm, and squeezed, causing him to drop the firearm. Sammy then lowered his head and rammed him in the face. The man fell down and tried to crawl away, pinching his bleeding nose. Sammy put his foot over the end of the revolver's barrel, and stepped on it, crushing it down and closing the end. He then kicked it back to the owner, who took it in his pocket and began to run. Most of the others had already saw enough and began to run back the way they came, most of them didn't even get a scratch yet. When the alleyway was cleared, Sammy's friends let out a small cheer. In addition, one of them brought out a bag of beers and handed one to each of them. Sammy took a bottle, tipped his head back, took a long gulp that emptied half the bottle, and then passed it back.

    "We should split it, that gunshot will probably attract a few cops. Though since they're the ones that shot first, we should be able to avoid an arrest without any problems." Sammy said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand,

    "Don't be so uptight Sammy! We beat the odds and scared them off with barely a scratch, though I didn't expect any less from someone like you." The man who first countered the insults suggested, "I say we pick up our pay, and go hit a club or two! I haven't had the chance to chat-up that cute one with the tattoo, come on! Lighten up a bit sore-eyes!" he continued, giving Sammy a friendly slap on the back. Sammy gave a light sigh, and then turned to face his fellow gang members,

    "Alright, a few drinks won't hurt. But you're paying for your own!" Sammy barked, the group then left the alleyway cheering, and left the alley to its lifelessness once more.
     
  4. (Ooc: Meet Marcus, Son of Apollo. Archery; Hell yeah!)

    Bic:

    The weather was unusually cold today. Marcus was glad he didn't have to cycle all the way to school- it was Saturday. Not that cold bothered him; It was the wind that he hated, blowing snow in his eyes. Also, the roads were slippery and dangerous.

    Marcus didn't like cold. He was the kind of person who preferred long, hot summers. But the summer break was still far away. Swimming, running, canoeing, mountainbiking and of course dancing with some girls- summer activities he longed for continuously…

    He looked up. Wandering off in his mind was one of the things he couldn't stop himself from doing. He checked the clock. Half past twelve. Time to go.

    He rose from the couch he had been watching TV from. He checked himself in the mirror. His smooth blonde hair reached all the way to his shoulders. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jean, along with his bracelet. The bracelet was a shiny gold with ruby's set into it. He had found it in his locker on his first school day, but nobody knew anything about it. Since it had an attractive shine to it, he had decided to keep it.

    The archery field wasn't very far away- much less then school, anyway. Marcus had loved archery since he was a little child. He worked with recurve bows. He always cut his hand open on longbow arrows and compound was too expensive for him. He also had crossbow, but he used it only on special occasions. It was too valuable for him to damage, although cheaper than a compound bow and less strong, too. Of course, still strong enough to shoot an arrow right trough someone's chest.

    As his mind wandered off to the arrows he was planning to buy, some strange sensation stirred in his stomach. It felt like fear, only different. There wasn't any apparent reason for fear, but Marcus suddenly felt unsafe, like someone was watching him.

    Of course, he didn't know that from the top of a deserted warehouse, a hellhound was watching him with angry and hungry eyes.

    Marcus stepped of his bike, locked it and walked under the gate. The gate was not much more than some wooden planks that read ‘St. Sebastian Archery Foundation' or in Marcus' case, ‘ St. Bestnaias Yercrah Tonadoufi'. Marcus had been diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia as a kid. It was annoying to see the letters drift of your pages, doing ollies and salto mortale's on the paper. For some reason though, he had noticed, Greek wasn't much harder than English to him.

    There weren't many archers yet, but those who were already there were shooting. He unpacked his bow, which the club leaders kept in storage for him so he didn't have to bring it with him every time, and sought out some arrows from the club case. He noticed three gold ones he'd never seen before. He took one of them and observed it. It was thinner and longer than the arrows he was used to shoot, but it had an attractive shine to it. He decided to take them.mHe always won the contests, anyway.

    He chose a target, took his pose, loaded an arrow, aimed, and pulled.

    Just then, he heard a ferocious growl behind him.
     
    #4 Hunting Rifle, Feb 16, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  5. ((Fweee, Percy Jackson! I so need to catch up on the series...))

    Kyra shivered and pulled her coat closer about her, hunching her shoulders as if trying to hide away from the people in New York. Being a shy person, others naturally scared her, especially the New Yorkers. She had no idea why, they just did. She hunched into her coat and hurried along into the halls of the "ylOpaimn Broinadg Scoolh", trying to make it to her next class in a timely fashion. Luckily, Mr. Daniels' classroom wasn't too far from the door she came in, so she easily slipped in.

    Surprisingly, there was only one other person in the class, which was unusual. Kyra's chocolate brown eyes scanned the room before she hurried to the farthest corner and took her seat there. Mr. Daniels had allowed her to keep her near hole-in-the-wall seat, why was anybody's guess. Kyra was a girl you would call perfect, in a visual sense. Her hair was a golden blond, completely straight even though she didn't own any hair straightener, and fell to her shoulder blades. Her skin was slightly tanned, an almost perfect balance between pale and tanned, which emphasized her blond hair more. She had a delicate, lovely heart shaped face, with rich chocolate-colored eyes to decorate it. Guys would have truly called her a piece of eye candy, neither too tall or short, not thin or chubby. But then why was she avoided like she was a leper?

    It wasn't so much as people avoiding Kyra as Kyra avoiding people. She would have been diagnosed with agoraphobia along with her ADHD and Dyslexia if doctors hadn't realized it was an acute sense of shyness instead of a phobia. No to mention things happened around her. Once she was charged with arson, but there was no evidence to prove it so the case was dropped, but still everyone believed it had something to do with Kyra. The girl would never hurt a fly it could help it, but she suspected the arson was aimed at her, caused by someone else to possibly kill her. It was paranoid, yes, but there was no other decent explanation. Not to mention her disabilities, which usually made "normal" people almost unconsciously shy away from her.

    Not that Kyra minded in the slightest. She was perfectly content to be left alone. She squinted as she tried to read the board, but it kept looking like the letters were tap dancing all over the place. After three attempts she gave up and went to--SQUIRREL! A bit of movement out the window caught her attention and sure enough a little gray rodent was scampering across the grass. She watched it for a second before her attention was inevitably tugged in another direction. She hoped Mr. Daniels would hurry up, of all her teachers she liked him, he was fun and didn't look at her like she did something wrong. She pulled her iPod out of her coat pocket and idly flipped through songs. If there was one thing she had an utter passion for was music, she loved nothing better than to listen to it.

    Finally landing on one of her favorites songs, she opened her notebook to a page fileld with writing and began finishing the poem she had been working on in her last class. Poetry was another one of her loves, not like her craving for music but more than a hobby. She still had a verse to go, and hopefully she would finish it before she forgot the words.
     
  6. (OOC: Ok so Belle has agreed to play catch up. Now for the fun stuff to begin!)

    After what seemed like forever the class had started to file in and take their seats, each kid waiting for Mr. Daniels to come bursting in on a chariot or some other dramatic entrance. Isaac put his sketchbook away, he was done with his most recent picture, and checked his watch. Class would be starting soon. At least something interesting was about to happen. Hopefully Mr. Daniels would teach them about the Titans today. Isaac rubbed his eyes tiredly, god let this day be over… he thought lazily. Everyone tensed as the door opened…and then groaned when someone NOT Mr. Daniels came through the door. The teacher was not one of the normal teachers that attended OBS…must be a sub… The teacher wore a simple red business top with a slim black skirt. She wasn't old, there wasn't any gray in her brown hair, which was tied into a bun.

    Her cold, almost black, eyes scanned the classroom, "Isaac and Kyra." Her voice matched her eyes, cold and full of…what…hate?

    Isaac snapped out of his trance that he had unknowingly fallen into again and looked up quickly. "Oh man…" he muttered under his breath, "What did I do this time…" Isaac got up and walked to the teacher. One of the kids near Kyra reached over and gave her a small shake, the students eyes watching Isaac as he came up to the teacher. She regarded him for a minute before stepping aside and motioning out to the hallway. "Please go to room 503 and wait for me to join you." She ordered curtly before disregarding him, eyes locked on Kyra.

    A few of the students snickered and pointed, while others decided it would be better to chuck paper wads at him. Isaac sighed, hefted his backpack and left for the room. As he went, he caught Mr. Daniels coming down one of the main hallways towards class. Mr. Daniels always wore a fedora over his long, somewhat curly light brown hair that matched the brown tweed jacket he also always wore along with brown suit pants. His suit shirt underneath was characteristically unbuttoned at the top two buttons and he never wore a tie. He walked with a characteristic limp, leaning heavily on his cane. It was a simple cane that looked like it had been whittled with intricate vine like patterns scrolling down it's length. Mr. Daniels walked by Isaac, giving him a curious look, before freezing in the door way.

    Mr. Daniels tightened his grip on his cane. He looked down the hallway at Isaac with a disturbingly grievous expression. The expression vanished so fast Isaac would have bet he really didn't see it. Mr. Daniels adjusted his glasses and vanished into the classroom.

    The school was mostly a one story building, though a few areas reached onto the second floor. Those were mostly the offices of the various teachers that worked there and one or two special classrooms. The entire east wing of the school was dormitories. Each student was given their own room and a swipe key for their door so no one could break in without some serious effort. Classrooms dotted the hallways along towards the center of the building, where the cafeteria and courtyard was located, and into the west section where the gym, work out areas, things like that were. Room 503 was a small hallway offshoot towards the cafeteria. It and the classrooms rested along the wall, giving a window or two to each classroom, though there were only 4 classrooms. The hallway ended in a dead end with the rooms on the left side, lockers on the right.

    Isaac was slightly put off as he made his way to the classroom and his mind raced. Why does this always happen to me? Nothing has exploded recently, no unexplainable earthquakes…So what on earth did I do now? Whatever it was it wasn't my fa…man I'm going to miss Mr. Daniels class…wait that's not important what the heck was that look he gave me? Isaac checked his watch nervously as he walked into room 503, noticed there were only two chairs in the entire classroom, and took a seat at the one closest to the window.
     
    #6 Reynald, Feb 23, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  7. Dwayna DragonFire

    Dwayna DragonFire 2014 Little Cup Champion

    Ann could sense two of them now in the same room, but were being moved to another. What is going on? she thought, Aren't they supposed to stay in one class? and why, out of all of them, are only the two that I sense being called? Something wasn't right about this whole situation, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

    She walked around the school and followed her senses as one of them walked ahead of the other. He moved to another room where Ann could look through the window and see which one of them he was, and wonder who the other one might be. But she had followed them for a reason, which was the sense that they would soon meet trouble.

    Ann paced past the window, looking for something before noticing a spot of shadow in the corner of this room. She sighed and closed her eyes, focused on it's position in relativity to where she was, and moved her consciousness there instead. She hid herself in the darkness, keeping the cat on her back so it's red eyes would not be noticed, and also hid her bronze crescent-moon-shaped staff behind her back as well. She had 'found' it not long after she had been told what she was, and found it useful against the monsters that besieged her.

    Now all she had to do was to wait and see what would happen next, and perhaps even allow her self to pop out from the shadows when the imminent danger neared.
     
  8. Any normal person would've turned around. Not Marcus. He jumped away. Still, he narrowly missed a giant black paw that instead teared his bow to pieces. Shit. There went his pride and money.

    He jumped away once more and turned to face his attacker. Instead of a Doberman or a Siberian tiger, he saw a giant, muscled dog with blood-red eyes. It wasn't a dog or wolf of any kind and definitely not feline, either. A part of his brain, probably the ADHD part, recognized it as a Greek hellhound. But that couldn't be true. Those were just myths.

    'A tiger! I heard one escaped from a nearby circus this morning!' Someone yelled. 'Marc, watch out!' Another one yelled. He wanted to yell back, 'Are you f***ing blind? IT'S NOT A TIGER!' But that moment, the creature lunged at him. The world turned slow-mo and Marcus' mind went numb, except for the part that wished for a weapon.

    And it worked.

    A beautiful golden bow suddenly appeared in his hands, including the golden arrow that he had found in the club case. Marcus didn't have time to be surprised; the hound was two feet away from him now. He aimed, pulled and let go on instinct.

    Time sped up to normal again and the creature fell to the ground, the golden arrow sticking out of his throat. Blood squirted out and spread on the asphalt.

    There was a silence on the field. Then somebody said: 'Dude, you just totally killed an escaped tiger.' They ARE blind, Marcus thought. That was when he noticed that the golden bow was gone. And that his torso was bleeding, leaving brown mushrooming stains on his t-shirt. 'Oh god, you're wounded.' Marcus' friend, John, said. He was in his class at the Olympic Boarding School. 'John?' Marcus asked. He felt tired now. 'What are you doing here?' 'Looking for you! Where have you been? It's Friday, for God's sake!' 'Friday? Damn, I thought it was Saturday! I f***ing skipped school!' 'We need to get you to the hospital first. Somebody call the circus and the SPCA!' John grabbed him by his arm and helped him walk to John's father's car, who had drove John to the field, apparently.

    'You're lucky. They're not very deep.' The nurse said. Marcus was sitting on a hospital bed, John standing next to him. She smiled as she put bandage around his torso. 'I've worked here for years now and this is the first time I treated wounds caused by a tiger.' 'It wasn't a tiger.' Marcus said weakly. The nurse frowned. 'Your friend said it was.' 'Everyone thinks it was a tiger, but it wasn't. It was a big black hellhound.' Marcus repeated. John looked at him, then at the nurse and back at him. 'I-i think you're still in shock, Marc.' The nurse nodded. 'I agree. You should go home and get some rest.' 'No!' he said. 'I want to go to school. I feel fine.' He continued, even though he felt miserable. ‘I thought teenagers loved staying at home.' The nurse said, laughing. ‘Normally, we do. But today our favorite teacher has a special lesson and I don't want to miss that.' Marcus said.

    The nurse sighed. ‘Well, whatever you like. But at the slightest nausea, you're going home, OK? Good luck.'

    And just like that, he stepped into the car with John and his Dad. ‘I still don't think it's a good idea, Marc.' ‘Trust me, John, I'm fine. Didn't you hear the nurse? The wound aren't deep.' He looked down. ‘I'll need a new shirt, though. This one's messed up.' ‘I have one.' John said. He pulled a dusty suitcase from under his chair. ‘We went on vacation a few weeks ago. I almost forgot mine.' He opened it and pulled out an equally dusty marine blue t-shirt. ‘It's your size.' He added. Marcus frowned. ‘We have the same shirt size, remember?' John said.
    ‘All right then. Can I share your books, too?'

    By the time they reached school, Marcus felt good enough to walk by himself. He looked at his watch. ‘We're still in time. Thanks for everything, Mr. Smith.' He said. ‘Be careful, boy.' He answered and drove off.

    John had been his friend since he had come to this school. He was a really nice guy, even though he walked a little weird. Their class counselor had told them that John had a certain muscle disease that made him unable to do any excessive sport like gymnastics or swimming and made him a little lame. Once Marcus had seen him scratch his ankles from the corner of his eyes and for a moment, he had though he saw brown fur on his skin but he said to himself that was impossible.

    He entered the classroom, John right behind him. Mr. Daniels wasn't there, but everyone else was. ‘There you are! Where have you been?' Somebody from the corner of the class asked. ‘Hospital.' Marcus replied simply. ‘Didn't you hear about the rogue tiger this morning? That tiger thought Marcus was a good lunch.' John said. He heard gasps. ‘Did you get hurt?' A girl asked. As an answer, he lifted his shirt. Even more gasps. ‘How did you escape?' Another girl asked. ‘I didn't. I shot it with a bow.' He said. ‘WHAT?' Sarah, a young girl in the front row, stood up. ‘Why? Tigers are an endangered species, for God's sake!' ‘Marcus was pretty endangered, too.' John reflected. Some people laughed while Sarah's cheeks flushed red.

    ‘Anyway, the circus called my dad while Marcus was in hospital. The tiger was going to die anyway. He had a feline variant of rabies.' John said. ‘So, where's Mr. Daniels?' Marcus asked his classmates as he sat down on his chair. ‘He's not here.' The boy behind him said. ‘Indeed, he is not.' A screeching voice replied.

    Marcus turned around. In front of the class was a woman with brown hair, tied together. She had cold, black eyes. ‘Marcus, Room 503. Right now.'
    Now he was going to get it. Skipping school was considered pure evil at Olympian Boarding School. Slowly, he stood up and departed to Room 503. John eyed him anxiously.

    When he opened the door, he found that two of his classmates, Isaac and Kyra, were also sitting in the room. There were only two chairs, though. He took one from the hall, put it down and sat. 'Hiya.' he said. ‘You guys skipped school, too?'
     
    #8 Hunting Rifle, Feb 23, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  9. The following morning, Sammy was regretting the decision from the night before. Almost upon arrival, many of his friends were drinking to the point of collapse, or bloodying their noses from getting into fights with other customers, or even themselves. It was perhaps a miracle that Sammy himself got off with only a headache. So ironically, the winning team of the night brawl was the one that was beaten up the most. It was now late afternoon, and Sammy walked through the streets alone. He often preferred it like this; it gave him time to take inventory over recent events. Right now, Sammy was walking on a street opposite of a two-story school, supposedly a boarding school he heard. It made him think of his own school days, it was rough, but it was homely. It was hard to think that it has only been four years since it all turned upside down. Sammy sighed, what was done was done, and the past was never going to change.

    Sammy reached a crossroads and stopped. Looking down the next side of the school, just beyond the railing, there was a girl, with black hair in long locks, peering into a window of the school. She was probably a student of the school who was peeping at somebody, but her age, and the fact that she wore dark clothing, including a heavy trenchcoat, made that idea less plausible. She didn't look like a criminal of sorts, though experience told him that looks could be very deceiving. Sammy went over to the railing that separated the school wall from the street and leaned on it, he was now about twenty meters away from the window that the girl was peeking through, yet he could not see through it himself. Sammy had to settle with what he could see of the girl, just so he knew what she was going to do next. He was in plain sight, but he kept his head avert, it would be very unlikely for her to know that he was watching.
     
  10. Kyra wasn't really paying attention to the teacher who was not Mr. Daniels. The students usually stopped talking when he came in, which they weren't doing now, so she assumed Mr. Daniels had not come in yet. It wasn't until one of the students gave her a small shake on the arm did she snap her head up and realize that the woman in the front of the class was not Mr. Daniels. "What?" She whispered to the boy who shook her.

    "Teacher wants you," her classmate answered quietly, jerking his chin towards the lady. She was not old, even though she wore her hair like she was, and she dressed simply enough, but something was...off about her. Something deep within the human DNA gives off alarm bells to things they don't like, and right now Kyra's alarms were screaming up a hurricane.

    Kyra swallowed nervously, and the coldness in her stomach made it feel like she just swallowed a rock. She got up, slowly, and walked slowly down the aisle. Frantically she was remembering everything she did the past few days, wondering if she did anything wrong. She couldn't remember breaking any rules, so what did she do? Well, not only she apparently. As she neared the front of the classroom, she saw the teacher giving a classmate of hers, Isaac, a cold glare. She whipped her head around to give her chilly glare to Kyra, and the girl shrank back a little, prompting a few snickers. The look the teacher gave her...it was so full of loathing it was like Kyra had killed the woman's mother or something.

    "Please go to Room 503 and wait for me to join you." The teacher ordered in clipped, curt sentences. She motioned to the open door impatiently.

    Trying to not quiver, Kyra walked back to her desk, dejected. Most of the students unconsciously moved away from her, and if her presence would have her weirdness rub off on them. A few "Haha"d loud enough for her to hear and they gave her nasty looks. Kyra took her poetry book and slung her backpack over her shoulders, heading out the door after Isaac. As they walked down the hall, not speaking to each other, a bit of movement made Kyra's head snap up like a hawk seeing a mouse. Or rather, SQUIRREL! It was Mr. Daniels, and the fact alone made Kyra frown in puzzlement. So that teacher wasn't a substitute? Then what was she doing in the class? She tried to remember if she had seen the woman before, and she hadn't.

    Mr. Daniels limped past them, giving the duo an equally puzzled look as he passed. He froze from the door, probably in surprise at seeing an unknown woman in his class. Kyra sighed and hung her head, when that teacher told her teacher what she had did (Kyra still had no clue what she did wrong) then she'd be in so much trouble. She made her way along the halls, not really paying attention to where she was going, and eventually made it to the destined classroom. Oddly, there were only two seats in the classroom. One for her and one for Isaac? Feeling more than a little nervous, she still cautiously into her chair and put her head into her arms, groaning to herself.
     
  11. Isaac looked up as Kyra walked into class. What he wasn't expecting was Marcus to walk in as well, dragging a chair along with him. Kyra had her head in her arms and didn't seem to notice Marcus' entrance.

    "Hiya." Marcus said as he took a seat, "You guys skipped school, too?"

    Isaac gave him a questioning look, "No. We just got pulled out of Mr. Daniels class. I don't know why we are here. I haven't done anything wrong recently." He stared off, lost in thought. Suddenly, the substitute walked in. Following here were two other teachers, all wearing similar clothing. One had medium length, curly red hair and a green top and the other had long black hair with a blue top. Both looked delighted to see the children, hungry in fact. The brown haired sub stopped in front of him, the red hair in front of Kyra, and the black hair in front of Marcus.

    "Well sisters. It seems like we are in luck. Three demi-gods...and such tasty looking ones at that." The Brown Haired Sub said with a wicked grin. The other two nodded in agreement, eyes locked onto their targets. 'Demi-gods? Tasty? um...' Isaac thought before speaking up, "Uh, excuse me ma'am...what did you call us?" He regretted it the moment he spoke. The Brown Haired Sub scowled, leaped forward and grabbed Isaac by the cheeks, her lacquered nails almost cutting his face. "A meal should know when to shut his mouth, young demi-god." She inhaled and grinned, "And such an exotic one at that...My sisters and I have been soo hungry. It is about time this school produced a satisfying meal."

    The Red Haired Sub spoke up, "Sister. The class will be leaving soon. Let us eat before someone notices.."

    Brown Hair nodded, "Indeed..." with that she stepped back. What happened next would haunt Isaac's dreams for a long time. The teacher stepped back and all three seemed to shift and change. Instead of arms they had long, feathered wings. Their legs became feathery with large talons. Their tops stayed on and their faces didn't change much, besides large fangs as they grinned in anticipation. 'Harpies...' Isaac thought, his mind racing to his Greek Mythology class, 'We are about to be eaten by a bunch of harpies dressed as substitutes...this can't be happening!'

    The other two harpies advanced on their prey while the Brown Haired Sub dove at Isaac, gripping him by the shoulders with her talons, cutting his shoulders., and knocking him out of the hair onto his back. The harpy screeched and slashed, slicing up his arms as Isaac defended himself. Isaac rolled away, up against the window, trying to stand up. The harpy was quicker. It pivoted and dove at Isaac again. Isaac's mind blanked and he reacted on instinct. He dove under the harpy and grabbed the legs of the chair he had sat in. The harpy turned just in time to get a face full of chair, knocking her against the class and cracking it.

    "My face!" The harpy cried, glaring at Isaac with pure hate, "You ruined my face you demi-god filth!" She dove at Isaac again. Isaac turned to dive just a moment too soon. Isaac cried out as the talons raked his shoulder and down his back. He rolled over just in time to be pinned down once again by the harpy. 'I really hope someone heard that...' Isaac thought as he stared death in the face.
     
  12. Kyra looked up and the three teachers walked in, all dressed in similar clothing. Even though they mainly looked nothing alike, Kyra guessed they were all related due to the eyes and facial features. However, why were three teachers needed to tell them that they were in trouble? And....Kyra shuddered at the look in their eyes. Hungry almost, like starving dogs staring at chunks of meat. Oh dear gods, are these people pedophiles? Kyra asked herself in the back of her mind.

    "Well sisters," the brown-haired one began, rubbing her hands together in delight. "It seems like we are in luck. Three demigods...and such tasty looking ones at that." She licked her lips as the other two nodded.

    Ummm, excuse me? Kyra thought, stopping cold. She didn't care much for the demigod part, but the "tasty" grabbed her attention like a steel fist. Tasty? I was right, pedophiles! Her eyes widened in alarm and she gripped her desk so hard her knuckles turned white. She did not like the way that red-haired one was staring at her.

    "Uh, excuse me ma'am...what did you call us?" Isaac suddenly spoke up beside her. Quick as a flash, the teacher rounded on him and grabbed his face, causing Kyra to let out a scream of surprise. Almost immediately the red-haired woman covered her mouth.

    "Sister, the class will be leaving soon." The sub said without taking her dark eyes off of Kyra. "Let us eat before someone notices..."

    The brown-haired one nodded in agreement. "Indeed..." she whispered letting go of Isaac and stepping back.

    Red Hair smiled sweetly and pressed a finger to Kyra's lips, as if reminding her to be quiet. "Not a sound dearest," she whispered. "I hate loud food." She stepped back to join her sisters.

    Kyra could not have spoken even in she wanted to. She watched in horror as the women....changed. With a loud ripping noise, huge feathery wings unfolded from their backs, so large Kyra wondered just how they fit inside the shirts without being seen. Their legs grew feathers as well, and Red Hair kicked off her shoes as her toes began growing longer and curling into lethal talons. She smiled at Kyra, revealing her teeth, which were steadily growing longer. Kyra felt her breath suck in. She had seen people like this before, in textbooks, women with wings and claws. Harpies. Ancient Greek Mythology. I'm insane. She thought as the harpy/teachers completed their transformation. I've lost my mind and now I'm hallucinating.

    Suddenly Red Haired sprang at her with a speed far too quick to be natural, and Kyra found herself tumbling out of her chair, her muscles and instincts doing their own thing while her brain was still frozen. The harpy's talons grabbed the chair Kyra was sitting in, the force of it dragging the desk back. Kyra lay on the floor, panting as the harpy growled and let go of the desk and rounded on her. She came in for another jump, but Kyra found herself rolling out of the way of the talons, also too fast to be normal. The harpy's talons screeched on the floor with a noise that made Kyra's ears hurt and she almost crashed into the wall due to the classroom's small size. Kyra jumped up and looked around, things seeming to slow down because her brain was going into overdrive. She saw her desk, on its side, and a wild, unknown idea formed in her mind.

    Without really knowing what she was doing, she ran over and picked up her fallen desk, amazed that she could do so easily. She turned to see the harpy using her wings, flying across the classroom. Kyra swung her desk and let it fly. The harpy tried to brake, but there was no room to maneuver so the desk caught her full in the face and the result was a Katamari-like tumble of harpy and desk. Unfortunately, Kyra was in the way of the ball and even though she tried to dodge, it, it still caught her leg and she was smashed onto her face. She looked up, nose bleeding, at the rest of the class. Feathers were everywhere thanks to her stunt, and Isaac was now pinned under his harpy. She tried to get up, but her legs were caught in the desk. Worse off, she felt a taloned hand grab her ankle as she tried to pull herself out. She screamed and kicked, but she was still being dragged back to the harpy/desk pile.
     
  13. Dwayna DragonFire

    Dwayna DragonFire 2014 Little Cup Champion

    Ann watched as the other demigod came in, and yet another one joined them. There were already so many like her, and they were all in the same room. Her danger sense amplified when the assumed 'teachers' came in, and she watched horrified as all three of the teachers turned into harpies. She was almost tempted to run again, but her kin were in danger, so she also felt like she had to interfere.

    She waited a little too long, because one of the boys had been severely hurt by one of the harpies already and the girl had her ankle grabbed by another after throwing a table. The boy had given the lead a nice smack on her face, but the harpy had retaliated and currently pounced him to the ground, which gave Ann the perfect opportunity.

    Ann leapt from the shadows and brought her bronze crescent-shaped staff downwards to penetrate the skull of the harpy beneath it with a sickening crunch and allow the boy to go free after the harpy had typically turned to ash. She swung the staff back up and moved with the momentum, impaling the harpy currently hindering the girl to set her free as well. Her cat (Whom she had named Calti) jumped from her shoulders only to transform into a full fledged hell-hound, black with glowing red eyes and curled horns coming from the back of his head beside his ears. Calti growled at the remaining harpy, who would surely be scared now that Ann had killed his comrades.

    "Sorry for the dramatic entrance," said Ann in her dark, velvety tones, "But I couldn't stand idly by any longer while others of my kind remained defenseless. I didn't want them swooping in on you anymore than they already had, as swooping is bad." She looked amused by this, despite how cold her eyes appeared to be, which gave a strange sort of effect to her happiness.

    "I know you must be utterly confused right now, but I want you to know that I am not here to harm you, my brothers... and sister," she said, bowing her head to the girl in recognition. "I should hope saving you from those monsters was enough indication of such being true." Even though they probably weren't also children of Hates, they were still demigods like herself.
     
  14. 'No. We just got pulled out of Mr. Daniels class. I don't know why we are here. I haven't done anything wrong recently.' Isaac said, eyebrows raised. Marcus heard the door open and turned to face the entrance, seeing three woman's enter, including their sub. They all had the same sharp facial features somehow, but they were dressed differently.

    The sub rubbed her hands. 'It seems like we are in luck. Three demigods...and such tasty looking ones at that.' Marcus was sure he heard that line wrong. Did dyslexia affect hearing, too?

    Marcus heard Isaac say: 'Uh, excuse me ma'am...what did you call us?' But at that moment, the sub grabbed Isaac's chin. He heard Kyra let out a scream. The sub said something about eating, before anyone noticed. Lunch break was already over, wasn't it?

    Just like that, the three women disappeared. Instead, three huge hawks with humanoid faces stood where they had been standing. Marcus was sure something was terribly wrong now. He should have stayed at home.

    His mind wandered off to his bow. When the non-tiger creature had attacked, a brilliant golden bow had appeared in his hands. The same color as his bracelet...

    Then the red haired woman moved. With absolutely superhuman speed she lunged at Kyra, who, luckily, ducked in time. The brown-haired harpy, for Marcus remembered that that was what it was called, advanced on Isaac. Which left the black-haired one, who jumped up and lunged at Marcus with her large talons.
    He did the only thing he was able to do; he ducked, just in time. The harpy narrowly missed the table, her talons leaving deep marks in it.

    He crawled from under the table, somehow knowing that the harpy wouldn't miss a second time. The harpy turned and advanced, he belly almost touching the ground. An ankle-grab maneuver. He decided his best chance was to do something the harpy would never expect. So he grabbed a chair and used it to pole-vault over her.

    And when he landed, something had changed. Not only was he holding a golden bow, an arrow case made from gold-colored leather was strapped to his back, filled with golden arrows. What the f***.

    With an angry cry, the harpy smashed the chair to pieces and stood up, dazed. Marcus saw a perfect opportunity, loaded an arrow, pulled, aimed and let go.
    The arrow hit the harpy right in her neck. Marcus heard a loud, evil roar from his side. He turned around. Shit. Reinforcements.

    Then he noticed that the hellhound wasn't attacking him. Instead, it roared at the black-haired harpy, who gave a loud cry and vanished.

    Marcus looked around. The harpy's were gone. Isaac's shoulder was bleeding, Kyra was bruised, the classroom was utterly destroyed and in the corner of the room, a hellhound and a black-clad girl were standing side by side. The girl was holding some sort of crescent-shaped wand.

    ‘Sorry for the dramatic entrance, but I couldn't stand idly by any longer while others of my kind remained defenseless. I didn't want them swooping in on you anymore than they already had, as swooping is bad.' The girl with the staff said. ‘I know you must be utterly confused right now, but I want you to know that I am not here to harm you, my brothers... and sister.' She continued. ‘I should hope saving you from those monsters was enough indication of such being true.'

    It was all too much for Marcus to catch. He shook his head. ‘Wait, wait, wait. You're saying that I'm related to you, Kyra and Isaac? And how the hell is it possible that I've been attacked by two f***ing Greek myths in one single day?'
     
    #14 Hunting Rifle, Feb 24, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  15. (I was planning to crash the scene with some sort of break-through-the-window dramatic entrance, but noooo, you had to finish the brawl without me! D:
     
  16. OCC: Sorry I'm auto-ing John for a bit Dark Soul. We need BRENDAN!!!

    Everything went to hell rather so fast; Isaac wasn't quite sure what happened. It looked like he and the others were about to die, though they had put up quite a good fight, when some crazy Goth lady materialized out of the shadows. She swung around a huge staff with a gleaming bronze crescent moon. If that wasn't terrifying enough, the harpy that had pinned him down suddenly turned to ash, not a corpse. "Holy Crap!" Isaac cried as he backed up away from the ashes, brushing them off as quickly as he could. The Staff Girl quickly dispatched the one attacking Kyra, and a cat transformed into a huge Hellhound (don't ask how Isaac knew, his brain was on overdrive right now). The remaining harpy hissed at the hound, her face bruised by Marcus' chair, before screaming in pain from an arrow that sprouted out of her neck. The harpy turned and darted out the door, away from the fight.

    Isaac was staring wide eyed at the Hellhound, "What the hell was that!? Who are you? Why did those things….what…" His mind raced though questions so fast he couldn't get them out fast enough. The girl was speaking calmly as if this was a normal day!

    "Sorry for the dramatic entrance," the girl was saying, "But I couldn't stand idly by any longer while others of my kind remained defenseless. I didn't want them swooping in on you anymore than they already had, as swooping is bad." She looked amused by this, despite how cold her eyes appeared to be, which only made her that much weirder.
    ‘I've been saved by a psychopath…' Isaac thought, still watching the Hellhound. He stood up weakly, fatigue from blood loss finally taking hold of him. He focused on what the girl was saying.

    "I know you must be utterly confused right now, but I want you to know that I am not here to harm you, my brothers... and sister," she said, bowing her head to the girl in recognition. "I should hope saving you from those monsters was enough indication of such being true."

    Marcus took the words pretty much right out of his mouth, "Wait, wait, wait. You're saying that I'm related to you, Kyra and Isaac? And how the hell is it possible that I've been attacked by two f***ing Greek myths in one single day?"

    Isaac was going to add to this tirade before a loud scream of the harpy came from the hallway. Isaac tensed, ‘Ah crap…something WORSE than harpies or hellhounds…what is it now? Minotaur…Chimera…Hy…Mr. Daniels?' Isaac's thoughts were cut short as Mr. Daniels walked, without a limp, through the door. In his hands he held a brilliant, bronze Greek sword. Ivy vines wrapped down the length of the blade, almost identical to the designs to his cane he always had on him. Following him was Marcus' friend, John. That didn't even COMPARE to the fact that both of their lower bodies were like a goats. Mr. Daniels hat was in his off hand, revealing a pair of curly horns on top of his head. ‘Great…first harpies…then hellhounds and crazy ladies...and now my teacher is a Satyr…' Isaac groaned.

    Mr. Daniels surveyed the room, taking a long glance at Goth Girl before turning to speak to John, "John. Find the boy that was outside the window. He needs to join these four to camp. Go now." John glanced at Marcus with an apologetic look before sprinting past everyone, opening the window, and leaping out, chasing after who knows what. Isaac hadn't seen anyone. But then again Mr. Daniels was always good at spotting things others didn't. Mr. D set his sword on the ground and it…changed...back into his classic crutch, "Stay right there Daughter of Hades…yes I know who you are Ann. As much as you want to run away, you need to come to the camp as well." He spoke quietly, yet his voice carried an unusual sort of power and command to it. He held Ann's gaze for a moment before addressing the rest of the kids, "I promise to explain more once we get out of here. I will answer a few questions right now. Greek Mythology is real…more or less. The gods are, the monsters as well. What is also true is they had kids…" He paused, looking at each kid individually, "You. I don't know which god your parent is so don't ask. Right now, know that monsters like that will keep hunting you because of what you are and you need to defend yourself. That is where the camp comes in. It is a place that is safe from monsters. It is my job to make sure you all make it there safely. Right now we need to leave. Out the window before the class bell rings and everyone comes to check out the commotion."

    Isaac's mind absorbed all the information. For some reason, his adhd didn't kick in and he heard the WHOLE thing. It was INSANE! It was IMPOSSIBLE! Yet…it somehow made too much sense. It would explain why he didn't have parents, why this school took him in, the strange things at had been happening to him. There was soo much tied to what he said that Isaac felt he had to believe Mr. Daniels. "This is crazy…why should we believe you Mr. Daniels! You're a half-goat person…a Satyr!" Isaac corrected as he moved to the window.

    "Call me Jacob," Mr. Da…Jacob said, "And the reason is because one, I am right, and two, I have protected you the entire time you have been here, Isaac. I was the one that allowed you to stay year round. Now… out the window with you. I'll fix up your shoulder once we are away from this school."

    Isaac swallowed hard; again that commanding air surrounded Jacob. Isaac climbed out, and caught his shoe on the edge, sending him face first into the dirt. The minute his skin touched the grass and dirt, a strange sensation crawled over him. He usually liked running around barefoot outside or just laying in the grass. It made Isaac feel full of energy and eased his mind a bit. This was a bit different. He still felt the rush of energy flow into him, but it seemed like the grass had more or less "caught" him, making the landing much softer. Even stranger was his wounds. Specks of dirt, almost like sand, crawled up his arm and covered his wounds, like an earthy scab. The scab rested for a moment before falling away harmlessly, leaving his shoulder whole again. Isaac's shoulder no longer hurt. In fact, it felt better than ever. ‘Man…that was weird…' Isaac thought as he hopped to his feet. The minute his skin left the embrace of the grass, fatigue and reality crashed back down on him. His shoulder may not be bleeding but his muscles still hurt. It was like that surge of energy he had a moment ago just left…

    Isaac looked to the rest of the group, waiting for them. He looked around for any sign of the "boy" Jacob had mentioned earlier.
     
    #16 Reynald, Feb 24, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  17. Dwayna DragonFire

    Dwayna DragonFire 2014 Little Cup Champion

    Ann froze in place, shivers running down her spine and throughout her body as the Satyr came into the room. He knew who she was, what she was, spoke of protecting the boy that she found the most interesting. He sent another satyr out to find another boy who she had sensed, but not bothered to look back as she was too focused on the other one.

    The Satyr knew that she wanted to run in that moment, like she had always run from her destiny. But maybe it had finally caught up with her, all those years of fighting for her life and running away just to survive the life that she wanted to live. However his words were so compelling, making Ann think about going to the camp that she had been so reluctant to go to.

    I told you, said the familiar female voice into her mind, indicating Calti was speaking to her. You should have just gone in the first place, but you decided to run. Now you cannot run any longer, and you have no choice but to accept your fate. The hellhound changed back into a small black cat, jumping to perch herself on Ann's shoulder.

    Nevertheless, she would still be a bit stubborn, and made sure to show it. Ann turned her head from the Satyr in a method that would show she wasn't speaking to him, and followed the boy she was interested in when he climbed out the window. she had heard the Satyr Jacob call the boy Issac, which she would surely commit to memory. She decided to touch a nearby rock and draw some energy from the earth, as the shadow teleportation had tired her greatly.

    Ann stood with the boy and waited, her midnight pools for eyes staring coldly back at the Satyr as if he had taken her whole life away from her.
     
  18. (Ooc: It's fine, he's a sub character.)

    Bic:

    Instead of an answer, Marcus heard a loud, high-pitched scream coming from the hallway. Marcus hoped it wasn't more harpy's… And luckily, it was Mr. Daniels. Well, maybe not so lucky. Nobody would believe four kids if they said they were attacked by Greek creatures- They'd think four kids destroyed a classroom with their bare hands. That was when he noticed that both John and Mr. Daniels' legs were covered in brown fur.

    Well, he had already encountered hellhounds and harpy's. He should have known satyrs were the next step. ‘John. Find the boy that was outside the window. He needs to join these four to camp. Go now.' Mr. Daniels said. John's facial expression said a deeply meant sorry as he glanced at Marcus, before he jumped out of the window to chase some boy that Marcus hadn't seen.

    He also noticed that Mr. Daniels was holding a sword, with thin vines wrapped around it. He put the tip on the floor and it formed into a crutch, the one that Mr. Daniels always used. He limped a little. Or at least, he used to.
    He looked at the girl with the Goth clothes and magic staff. ‘Stay right there, Daughter of Hades. Yes, I know who you are, Ann. As much as you want to run away, you need to come to the camp as well.' His voice was different than normal; it held a certain authority and power. Like a commander's voice. He also looked at Marcus, Isaac and Kyra, scanning each one with his prying eyes. Then he took a deep breath and said: ‘I promise to explain more, once we get out of here. I will answer a few questions right now. Greek Mythology is real, more or less. The gods are, and the monsters as well. What is also true is they had kids.' He took another breath. ‘You. I don't know which god your parent is, so don't ask. Right now, know that monsters like that will keep hunting you because of what you are and you need to defend yourself. That is where the camp comes in. It is a place that is safe from monsters. It is my job to make sure you all make it there safely. Right now we need to leave. Out the window before the class bell rings, and everyone comes to check out the commotion.'

    Marcus' brains were working overtime. He just couldn't believe it. The hellhounds and harpy's were pretty good proof but still… ‘This is crazy. Why should we believe you, Mr. Daniels! You're a half-goat person… a Satyr!' Isaac exclaimed. Marcus agreed with him, silently.

    ‘Call me Jacob. And the reason is because one, I am right, and two, I have protected you the entire time you have been here, Isaac. I was the one that allowed you to stay year round. Now. Out the window with you. I'll fix up your shoulder once we are away from this school.' Jacob said.

    Marcus decided, partly because of the tone in his voice, to follow Jacob. Isaac went through the window first. He tripped, but regained his feet. Marcus was second, and when he was trough, he turned around, waiting for Kyra and the Goth girl named Ann to climb trough too. John was nowhere to be seen.
     
    #18 Hunting Rifle, Feb 25, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014
  19. If Sammy thought his day was not going to get stranger, then he might as well have lived under a rock. Sammy followed a path he often took through the streets, taking shortcuts through a multitude of alleys; a path that his unknown pursuer would have a hard time following. Sammy was eventually found, but not by the goat. Soon enough, Sammy was crossing through an abandoned recycling yard. Large containers of various colors stood on each side of the path like saluting soldiers. Sammy crossed through here numerous times; it was a shortcut of sorts. It would have taken him straight back to an old apartment Sammy called home, so that meant others knew he would take this path, and could catch him here.

    "Well, well, well; The Spartan finally rears his ugly head." A voice called, Sammy looked behind him to see a person propped on top of one of the recycling containers. He wore a mask that covered his mouth and nose, but Sammy was still able to recognize him from the previous night, as the man that had the gun. The mask was probably there to hide the injury Sammy gave him. A sports bag sat next to him on the container, threatening to slide off.

    "Back for another round then?" Sammy questioned, "I don't see any of your friends with you; you planning to fight fair this time?"

    "You ruined me Greeky. I was kicked out of the gang for humiliating them, and now I'm being blamed for the shooting. My face will be all over the city by the end of the day, and you get to go off clean as a whistle." He grimaced; Sammy could see red pushing anger into the man's cheeks.

    "Well, if I must be honest. You did the shooting, and losing even when you had us outnumbered and out-equipped is pretty humiliating." Sammy retorted.

    "You better save that scrawny voice for your prayers! Because I got paid well to sell you out to this guy who's been gunning for you." He boasted, then reached into the bag and pulled out a large circle of gold, gleaming in the setting sun. "In solid gold too! A drachma was what he called it, must be a Russian currency. I don't even want to know what you did to this guy, but it sounds serious. I'll just leave you to it and get out of the city while I can. Have fun!" he shouted, then jumped off the container with his bag and broke into a run, quickly disappearing from view. Sammy was about to follow him when he heard a growling sound from behind him. Sammy found the source of the growl to be a man, a huge man, nearly seven feet tall. The man was clothed, in a very unusual manner; a pair of cloth pants that looked very much liked something from the Hulk's fashion base. He wore an enormous hooded jumper with the hood up to hide his face. His hands were in the hoodie's large central pocket as he approached. He started walking in a normal manner, but it quickly turned into a menacing stride, fit for a beast. The man took his arms out of the pocket, showing the ugliest hands Sammy ever saw. Three thick and heavy fingers with an appropriate thumb on each hand. Each appendage was so wrinkled, it was almost scaly. Moreover, the nails looked thicker and tougher than anything a human could grow. If that was not enough to convince Sammy that this wasn't human, then what the creature showed next was undeniable proof. Using one of its ugly hands, it pulled away the hood to show a wrinkled, leathery head. A blunted horn protruded a few inches out of the creature's baldhead. The most startling sight however, was what sat in the middle of the creature's forehead. A single, enormous, gazing, eye. It did not take a historian to recognize a Cyclops when it was staring you in the face.

    Sammy almost fell into shock from seeing the monster, torn straight from the pages of a history book, and would have stayed in that state if the creatures vicious roar did not snap him out of it. The monster was unarmed, and was eager to pulverize the young adult with his bare hands. When the monster was only two feet away from its target, it brought up a hand and curled the fingers as best as it could into a fist, then flung it down, intending to nail Sammy into the ground like a hammer on a wooden stake. Sammy finally was able to shake the monstrous image from his head and leap out of the way as the heavy fist crashed down, causing a few cracks to form an elliptical shape on the ground. Sammy got back on his feet and reached into his pocket, pulling out a large switchblade, an interesting beauty with small groves carving out a lion on one end of it. Sammy used one thumb to push out the large, steel blade, and it flicked open, glistening in the light. Sammy whirled around and, without hesitating, drove the blade into the chest of the Cyclops. Sammy was surprised at how easily the blade sunk in; it was as if it was cutting paper. What was more surprising was how the Cyclops did not even flinch. Sammy pulled out the blade and was about to stab again when he saw just what was wrong. The blade did not have any blood on it, it was as if it did not even touch anything, and there was no wound where the blade went though, it was as if it just went through the creature.

    "What-?" Sammy gasped, realizing what had happened. The Cyclops took advantage of the shock and knocked Sammy off his feet with an elbow. Sammy felt like someone just threw a brick at his chest, he fell to the floor groaning in pain. Sammy tried to get back up, but the Cyclops got to him first. The monster towered over him for a moment before it fell forward, with fists clenched, ready to pound Sammy into submission. Sammy stuck his hands in front of his face and shut his eyes. He could feel the weight of the Cyclops on his outstretched hands, pushing down to crush him. That was it, just the weight, no crushing. Sammy opened his eyes to see what was happening. On instinct, his hands clamped around the wrists of the Cyclops,
    whom was still trying to push down onto him, saliva dribbled slowly from the gaping hole that was his mouth, and the stench of rotting flesh infested his nose. Sammy was not sure just how he was able to do it, suddenly the adrenaline in his body pumped through him, making him feel like he was being inflated like a balloon. The arduous chore of keeping the Cyclops at bay seemed to slowly become easier. Sammy's arms stabilized and the beast was wrestling hopelessly, it was undeniable; Sammy was growing stronger. Using his legs to make the movement easier, Sammy pushed the Cyclops's body to one side and then rolled on top of it. He brandished his switchblade once again, and tried to drive it into the monster's gigantic eye. The Cyclops reacted quickly and caught the blade in his wrinkled fist. Sammy then tried to pull the blade out from the creatures grasp, giving it a sharp tug. Then, it came free, almost too suddenly. Sammy did not take even an instant to notice what had changed in the blade, or how the creature's eye widened in fear as Sammy lunged the blade through its pupil. The beast let out one last roar, which was then followed by a loud hiss, like when molten iron was dropped in a pool of water. Then, before Sammy's eyes, the Cyclops crumbled into dust and disappeared.

    Sammy was left on his knees alone in the abandoned recycling plant that then became the battleground for a fight with a mythological creature. Slowly, as Sammy began to relax, waves of tiredness rocked through him, threatening to push him to collapse. Sammy looked down at the switchblade in his hands and saw just what made the Cyclops so fearful. The steel part of the blade was gone, and now, there was a dirty-looking brown metal, smaller than the original blade, but the way it shone, even in its dirty color, proved that this was a more interesting weapon. Looking down, Sammy could see the steel blade on the ground, where the Cyclops dropped it as it was disappearing. Sammy picked it up and examined it. There was a slit-like hole in the bottom of the blade, which was probably where the inner-part of the weapon was hidden, so it was one blade hidden in another. Sammy pocketed the remains of the steel knife, and then he heard footsteps behind him, well not really footsteps. More like the clomping of a pair of hooves. Sammy whirled around and pointed his blade at the person behind him. A teenager, about sixteen or so, stood there, and was now backing back in fear.

    "Uhm… p-put that d-down, p-please" the kid stammered. He did not look like anything nearly as threatening as the Cyclops just now, so Sammy assumed he could let down his guard. He put the blade away and slipped it in his pocket.

    "Did you… see any of that?" Sammy panted; he still eyed the boy with suspicion.

    "I… heard it. I probably would have lost you if it were not for that. Now, I really need you to come with me." The kid explained, nervously reaching out his hand and beckoned him.

    "Slow down there. While you're here, why don't you answer me a few questions, since you sound like you know a thing or two." Sammy interrupted, and then pointed in the general direction behind him, since he did not have a corpse to direct to. "What the hell was that? Why the hell was it after me-?" Sammy demanded, and then stopped. For the first time, he looked down at the teenager's lower body, and saw the hairy legs that ended with hooves. As well as the tiny horns, that protruded from his head. "And what the hell are you? Some kind of goat?"

    (sub-character you said. Just say so if he would never be so nervous around an armed man)
     
    #19 Brendan Savem, Feb 25, 2010
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 27, 2014

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