Collab between Whirlwind and Phloem
Gaspard’s brow furrowed as he listened to Erin’s series of deductions. Ate? To be honest, he didn’t have much of an idea who she was. Then again, he never really cared much about the ins out outs of Greek mythology. But, the name ‘Eris’ did ring a bell. In fact, Gaspard himself was a legacy of the spirit of strife and discord. Granted, it was a rather weak legacy, thinned out over the course of countless generations… but it was one, nonetheless. Whatever it was, though, it paled in comparison to the situation at hand. Since this was only the second year that Gaspard had been at Camp Half-Blood, all of this was a bit overwhelming for him. For starters, a goddess descending from the heavens just to fuck around with a group of teenagers? Anyone would agree that such a thing sounded absolutely ludicrous.
Just then, a movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Craning his neck around to get a better view, he finally saw what… or who it was. Gaspard wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the absurdity of everything that happened tonight, but one thing was for certain -- he had just laid eyes upon a talking skeleton. If it was a costume, it was a damned good one. But it seemed way too realistic to be one, and when said skeleton took a swig out of the flask; the liquid passed right through him. Like literally right through him. This wasn’t even a metaphor for anything, the wine, whiskey, or whatever it was flowed right out of his throat and through his ribs. Gaspard let out a small laugh at this, the sound bubbling up from his throat, past his lips. This skeleton-man was certainly one to watch; if he managed to make it out of this alive, that is. The son of Hecate was pretty confident that he’d be able to overcome whatever obstacle he’d face. Sure, he was a little tipsy. But it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, right?
A red swirl of smoke interrupted his train of thought, and Gaspard had to blink a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Sure enough, the mysterious apparition turned out to solid flesh and blood. Well… as far he could tell, at least. He wasn’t about to saunter over and poke her in the arm, or anything. But he was pretty sure that it wasn’t all just smoke and mirrors, since he couldn’t sense the presence of any Mist.
“My name is Ate; though in this form I’m sure most of you know me as Ruby,” the figure began introducing herself. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing she did. The next thing she did was go on and on about how she was going to split everyone into groups for some twisted little game of hers. Oh, and also how she was going to wipe all of their memories like in Men In Black after everything was over and done with. Which was reassuring, to say the least (note the sarcasm). Whilst Gaspard had half a mind to start railing on the so-called goddess, he decided to keep quiet, in the end. Mostly because he didn’t want to get vapourised before the game even began.
Faris admittedly jumped a bit when a woman appeared out of a cloud of dust. How hard indeed my dear, that is the question isn’t it?” she said. Faris blinked a few times in surprise. Was this the person screwing with them? Seriously? She looked easy enough to take down. But then again, if she had brought them here, Faris wasn’t about to tempt the woman to see what else she could do to her. Welcome to my game; you are all now my little toys… at that, Faris was already boiling. She was no one’s ‘toy’. That was it. She was screwing up this lady’s game and beating every frickin’ thing she threw at her. No questions asked. She’d show her. Er, Ate. Ruby. Whatever.
“...Faris and Gaspard as group two.”
She listened as the goddess introduced everyone’s name, as Faris hadn’t known who they all were anyway to begin with. But she already knew the guy she was paired up with. Ah, Gaspard. Of course. She had wanted to give a party and have a drunken good time, and now she was paying the price by being placed with the only one remotely drunk. She could only hope this was sobering him up. Hopefully their task in this game was to drink coffee and red bulls prior to whatever she was going to have them do.
Huh. That was convenient. Gaspard just happened to get paired up with the Ares girl from the party that night. Looks like she was gonna get her entertainment, after all - albeit not the kind she expected. Unfortunately, before he had any time to convene with Faris, the ground seemed to crumble under his feet once again. A sickly, lurching sensation pooled at the pit of his stomach, as he tumbled around in darkness that only lasted a second or two. Biting gusts of frigid wind suddenly assaulted him from every direction, and a cold wetness seemed to quickly be spreading through the front of his clothes. Snow? Right now, all he could think about was getting out of the cold. The chill sharpened his senses, at least. It was like he was almost sober again. Quickly getting back up on his feet, Gaspard brushed away the snow that stuck to him, and heard Faris’ voice from beside him.
Faris barely had time to think before the game had begun and she was freezing cold. Boots starting to get covered in snow, wind whipping at her, and bits of ice hitting her face made her gasp and rub her arms right away. Why the hell was she wearing a dress again? Her quickly becoming numb fingers rapidly undid her braid and let her thick hair fall in a curtain, warming her neck like a scarf, but really it was like a bandaid on a bullet wound. ”Gaspard! Tell me that fire you made at the party actually produces heat!” she said desperately, huddling close to him and shivering.
“Unfortunately, no. But this one will.” Gaspard said through gritted teeth, which were already beginning to chatter from the cold. On any other day, he’d give her an explanation as to how the fire was only an illusion formed from Mist, but somehow, he didn’t think that was important right now. Fortunately, even if the flaming sphere from the party was but an illusion, he was still capable of casting real magic. After all, what son of Hecate would he be if he couldn’t at least make a fire? Clasping his hands together, he began reciting an incantation in Ancient Greek. As he did so, Gaspard could feel a heat centered in his chest, and surging through his arms. An orange glow could be seen through the gaps of his fingers, and soon, flames began licking his skin. Gaspard opened his hands again, his right palm facing upwards, a warm ball of fire floating a few inches above his skin. Heat radiated off the fire, and Gaspard could feel his extremities again. Hopefully, this was going to be enough to keep hypothermia at bay until they managed to finish the game.
”Damn it,” Faris mumbled at first. But she waited to see what he was doing. Raising an eyebrow, hair whipping across her face with the wind, she watched Gaspard mumbling and putting his hands together. She shivered and tried moving her legs a bit to keep feeling in them, but it was like her temperature was dropping by the second. She started to ask if he was doing anything at all, when the flames began to roam over him, making her hesitant to stay so close. Then again, at this point, touching fire out right didn’t sound so unappealing. Her eyes took in the fire he held in his hand, feeling the warmth from it. She inched slightly closer, putting her hands up to it and wishing there was a better way.
Glancing down at the other’s clothes, and then his own, Gaspard let out an exasperated sigh. They really weren’t dressed for the weather, were they? Not like it was their fault, though. Camp Half-Blood always had perfect weather, and getting trapped in a massive snow globe just wasn’t a thing that happened on a regular basis. The fire was warm, but in this heavy a snowstorm, it really wasn’t going to help them much unless they found themselves some shelter. At the back of his mind, Gaspard had the nagging feeling that there was some manner of monster out there, waiting for them, but now it almost seemed like the elements were going to kill them first.
”Seriously, I won’t be able to feel my toes if this goes on,” Faris said, dark eyes shutting often to protect themselves from snow hitting her in the face. Sure, the fire was great, but it wasn’t going to be enough unless they got out of this wind. There had to be a cave or something to hide behind around here right? She began trying to peer around them and see if there were any such things, when two dark forms began rapidly coming closer. ”The…?” Faris started to mumble. But as they got close, she could see two forms of well… they appeared to be half woman half snake creatures with spears.
”Shit!” Faris snapped, grabbing Gaspard and turning him in the opposite direction of the beasts. ”Run!” she yelled, suddenly not caring that she was becoming a popsicle as long as she was alive for the moment. Cold air mixed with the exertion she was putting on her body stung her lungs, eyes watering and streaming down her cheeks before crystallizing slightly from the chill. But in her mind, she was already trying to form a plan. If she got ahold of one of those stupid spears they were throwing, they stood a chance. With a spear, Faris knew she could kill the freaky looking things.
The snow crunched under Gaspard’s feet as he tried to keep up with Faris. His stamina had never really been amazing, but having caught a glimpse of those snake creatures, he knew that if he didn’t keep running, he was a dead man. The freezing cold stung his eyes and burned his lungs, but the only thing he could do was push on. The ball of fire he held in his hand was desperately trying to stay aflame against the harsh winter, and he knew that they needed to come up with a plan, and fast. Puffs of condensating water vapour escaped from him every time he exhaled, and a quick look over his shoulder confirmed that they weren’t out of danger yet. The monsters were still in hot pursuit, and Gaspard found himself desperately looking around for a solution to this disaster. He’d try creating decoy Mistforms for the two of them, but the lamias always seemed to know where exactly where they were. Out of the corner of his eye, in the distance, he could just make out a vague silhouette. It looked like some sort of hill, but really, it was nothing more than a glorified heap of snow. Could they hide behind it? He highly doubted it, but at this point, he was willing to try anything.
Faris was running, legs starting to get wobbly from the cold and how fast she was having to go to keep away from the creatures. Luckily it didn’t seem like Gaspard was outrunning her. To be left alone would not be a good strategy for defeating the ugly things. She was huffing and puffing, chest rising and falling heavily when her blurry vision caught sight of a snowdrift. ”This way!” she shouted, her mind still running the whole time with ideas. After all, combat was what she was made for. Although, the snow and cold was trying to battle that aspect of her at the moment.
When they got closer, she yelled ”Jump into it!” And with that, she dove into the snow. She didn’t get buried like she’d hoped, still able to see out but surrounded by snow otherwise. She watched, shivering so violently she felt a bit sick, as the snake creatures started to come towards the pile. Crap… she though, knowing they would be able to see them if they passed in front. But when the beasts got close, they continued past, looking confused and going in various directions in the snow. Faris frowned heavily. How did the stupid things find them in the midst of a blizzard anyhow? Visually, it made no sense. And if Ate put some sort of tracking on her and Gaspard, they would have found them anyway. How could they… ah! They were drawn to heat! And covered in snow, their heat levels must have dropped or been hidden enough to trick them.
Clawing away some of the snow between them, Faris shook as she explained to Gaspard. ”They are like heat seeking missiles. That’s how they found us in the blizzard.” She hesitated, knowing this part of her plan he may not like. ”We have to get out of this or well, we’ll die, duh. So, we have them find us again, then separate. Then, we run towards each other with them following us, and dive into this snow drift again. Hopefully, they’ll kill one another,” she explained, knowing it was stupid risky, but she couldn’t think of another option. And she could only hope he understood her through all the chattering.
Gaspard squinted through the snow, trying to keep his eyes from getting frozen solid. He tried to listen as carefully as possible to Faris’ plan, which was definitely not an easy task with the winds howling all around them. And then, he was suddenly struck with a realisation. Why didn’t he think of that?! The snake-people were attracted to heat, no wonder they managed to seek them out in the middle of this blizzard. He could feel a sort of grudging admiration for his companion creeping up on him, but he quickly pushed them down. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about such things. The son of Hecate nodded along at various points during her explanation, seeing the reasoning behind it. To be honest, he didn’t really like the chances of either of them surviving on their own, but there really was no other choice. No matter how ridiculous the plan sounded, he knew that it was their one and only gambit. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, somehow managing to crack a smirk despite everything, “No rest for the wicked, huh? Let’s get going.”
Faris nodded, glad Gaspard was good with the idea, cause they didn’t really have time to argue about it anyway. She smirked back at him and struggled just a bit to get out of the snow.
Clambering back onto his feet, Gaspard retrieved Thorn from the holster on his belt. Sure, all he was doing was kiting a monster round in a circle, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Safety first, right? If it did manage to catch up to him, at least he wouldn’t be defenseless. With his trusty dagger at his side, he bolted off in the opposite direction to Faris. He hoped to the gods that this plan would work, because if it didn’t, well, let’s just say they wouldn’t be a pretty sight at the end of all this. His breathing was quickly growing ragged as he ran, but the adrenaline kept him going. The fight-or-flight was finally kicking in, he supposed. At this point, stopping equalled death. He never thought that one day he’d been fleeing from a fucked up snake-human hybrid in the middle of a raging snowstorm, but here he was.
The only thing Gaspard could hear and see was the blizzard, a swirling cacophony of wind and cold. When he tried to look over his shoulder, he was greeted with a welcome sight. The lamia was close behind him, but not quite close enough to shank him with its spear. Which was amazing news, considering the situation. If he could just get back to the snowdrift in time, they’d have a lot less trouble on their hands.
A faint hissing could be heard over the storm, and Gaspard knew the lamia after him was getting dangerously close. In fact, he could almost feel it breathing down his neck. Psyching himself up the best he could, he circled back to where the snowdrift was. The featureless landscape was difficult to navigate, but he was pretty sure his natural sense of direction would be able to handle it. At this point, he could feel the muscles in his legs screaming for him to stop, but to stop running now… he didn’t want to think of the consequences.
Faris began running in the opposite direction of Gaspard, a slight whimper leaving her lips. Her whole body stung, but now was not the time to care. As she ran she kept whipping her head back to see if one of the snake creatures was following. It didn’t take long before a looming slithering shadow began sliding over the tracks she was leaving behind. Her breath picked up and she hardened her resolve, booking it back in a semi circle towards the pile of snow.
As she drew nearer, her legs were trying to slow and her breathing was erratic, but she saw Gaspard coming towards her. The plan had to work. She forced her knees to lift higher to get her through the last bit of snow before diving into the snowdrift at the last second, almost feeling the lamia’s spear slide past her shoulder.
Gaspard unceremoniously dove through the snow, twisting his body sideways to avoid colliding with Faris. He got a mouthful of snow in the process, and he could only hope the plan worked. Fumbling to get Thorn back in his hand, ready to strike, that was when a terrible baying reverberated through the entire dome. At this, his dark eyes lit up. Surely this meant that their ploy was successful? He couldn’t be sure, though. After all, this could just be a trick. Poking his head out from behind the snow, he spotted a wildly thrashing form. And from it, escaped the loudest noise he’d ever heard; a cross between a snake’s hiss and a person’s scream. One of the lamias had a spear sticking out of it’s stomach, and its efforts to remove it only seemed to aggravate the situation. Sickly green blood and viscera stained the snow, and after what seemed like an eternity, the lamia finally ceased its morbid jig.
As Faris collided with the snow, she cringed at first, but then just laid very still amongst it, not wanting to accidentally attract the snake creatures. Then she heard it. A horrible noise ringing out like the crashing of cymbals. She turned her head, eyes half open and gingerly brushed the crystals sticking to her face aside. One of the lamia was obviously dying, though the blow was a gut shot the spear had run them through and it was… yep, there it went, laying dead in the snow. It’s green blood dying the white plains. Faris’s eyes lit up slightly but she didn’t have much more of a reaction than that. The snow was starting to feel like a warm blanket almost and she was content to stay there. The other snake creature seemed to be looking around, and as it twisted and turned, Faris could see green sliding down it’s shoulder. So, it had been injured as well. Good, but it was still a threat.
The snake thing didn’t look too long however before it let out a defiant hiss and slithered back in the direction they had originally come from. Faris could only assume it was returning to get its wound taken care of, leaving its fallen comrade. ”Told ya I’d beat that pin up bitch,” she smirked, mumbling into the snow pile. She could see the spear left behind by the dead lamia, laying there, and reaching out for it. Ah, but it was too much effort. She grumbled and figured if the other thing came back, she’d grab it then.
“Nice work,” Gaspard said, as out of breath as Faris was, “but you gotta stay with me now.” Right now, all they could do was stay warm the best they could. All things considered, everything could’ve ended up a lot worse. At least the snowdrift was shielding them from the brunt of the blizzard. Letting out an effortful grunt, he leaned forward slightly, conjuring up the fireball once again. The lamia had appeared to be beating a temporary retreat, and this was probably gonna be the only window of time they had to warm up. It took him quite a bit more effort to sustain the spell than before, but he managed. After all, what other choice did he have? Either he sucked it up or they both became human popsicles.
Faris looked to Gaspard as he spoke. Something about staying? She wasn’t sure. But she watched him as he created fire once more. Between the fireball and the snowdrift blocking the wind, she felt the stinging sensation of her blood flowing back to her extremities. She winced, but knew it was for the best. ”I’m glad you made me a fire,” she grinned, remembering back at the party when he said he wouldn’t. Looks like she got her way after all. And that now, hopefully, at least one person from camp wouldn’t think she was dumb as rocks.
Gaspard grinned back, although it looked more like a grimace than anything. “It’s the least I could do.”
