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10 yrs ago
Comic Con for the day, woo!
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10 yrs ago
cComic
10 yrs ago
Can't afford to be neutral on a moving train
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10 yrs ago
8 months? I don't feel like I received enough warning at how quickly time flies the older one gets. Poking around, taking a look.
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11 yrs ago
Work isn't cooperating with giving me time, working on catching up.

Bio

Most Recent Posts

Index of PC and NPCs


The Royal Court












The North

House Stark

The Vale

House Arryn

The Riverlands

House Tully

The Westerlands

House Lannister

The Reach

House Tyrell

The Stormalands

House Baratheon

Dorne

House Martell

Other Westerosi Characters


A Song of Ice and Fire: A Gilded Throne

DISCORD


Aenys was weak and Maegor was cruel and Aegon II was grasping, but no king before or after that would practice so much willful misrule.
Kaeth - Lives of Four Kings


IC Outline:
Westeros has been in slow burning chaos for decades. When dragon turned against dragon and dueled across sky and land, their eventual peace in 131 AC did not bring stability. A long and strife-filled regency coincided with a harsh winter and a plague. The crown had no time to resolve petty disputes amongst the great houses. Lannisters and Greyjoys fought while the Vale descended into its own succession crisis.

The dragons did not rebuild their numbers either, try as he might, King Aegon III failed to restore their numbers and oversaw the final death in 153 AC. Whispers remain even to today, of what foul magic the Dance had unleashed that would end the source of House Targaryen's power. After all, what are dragon lords with no dragons?

Perhaps eager to prove their might still remained even without the powerful creatures, peace was short-lived with a full invasion of Dorne begun in 157 AC by King Daeron I. Victory was brief, the regent left behind - Lord Lyonel Tyrell - was killed in uprising against the Iron Throne. Upon Daeron's return in 161 AC, he too was slain. His brother, Baelor, was crowned, a man better suited for a Sept than a Throne. Though the smallfolk loved him, his attention was ever diverted to the Seven above, rather than his liege below. King Baelor's rule rankled his lords, his edicts and decrees ranged from charitable to tyrannical. Though many still sought to find favor by providing their own daughters as companions in the Maidenvault that held the King's three sisters - lest they tempt any man with their beauty.

Leading up to Baelor's death in 171 AC, just a few years ago, concerning whispers reached some ears that he sought to wipe out all faiths but the one true Faith of the Seven. His death was perhaps most timely in preventing all out civil war with the North and the Iron Islands.

Perhaps by all rights, it was Daena who should have been crowned Queen as the next eldest in line to the throne. Yet, memories regarding women and the Iron Throne were long. With great mean citing the precedents of the Great Council of 101 AC and the Dance of the Dragons, Daena's and her sisters' claims were quickly set aside in favor of their uncle, King Viserys II, who had ruled in all but name while Aegon brooded, Daeron warred, and Baelor prayed.

His true reign was short-lived, and he died from sudden illness in 172 AC. His eldest son, Aegon, succeeded him as King Aegon IV, and the realms trembled yet again. While Viserys was not well-loved and looked upon with suspicion for Baelor's death, his son was already well known for letting his desires rule him, no matter his charisma and wit.

Since his ascension, King's Landing has been in repetitive cycles of feasts and scandals. Aegon thrives on sowing discord among his eager subjects and takes joy in pitting them against one another. His closest friends and confidantes are one unknown misstep away from becoming his foe. Lords and ladies seek his favor through whatever means available to them. It has been a tumultuous time, all the while his long-suffering siblings do their duties for the realm.

Just a few years after taking the throne, the King decided - against all protests - to launch a new invasion of Dorne. He would finish what his cousins had left unfinished. Aegon's son and heir vehemently opposed this, only to find rumors begun that he was a bastard, born of his mother's affair with her other brother, Aemon. The invasion was over before it began, with the fleet scattered and destroyed by a vicious spring storm.

---

It is 178 AC, Aegon IV is in his sixth year of rule, Summer continues on with the Citadel predicting at least one more year before Autumn.

The realm has been fractured and neglected for too long. In the North, House Stark suffers after Lord Cregan's death. His sons left much to be desired in securing a legacy. The Vale continues to rebuild following their own succession crisis that resolved less than fifty years ago. The Riverlands are beset by more infighting among the Brackens and Blackwoods; although not uncommon, King Aegon has spurred it to new levels of animosity with his choice of mistresses. House Tully has been consumed with the effort of keeping peace under their purview.

Other major houses are even more silent. House Tyrell and Baratheon seem to bide their time, or perhaps are dealing with their own internal conflicts they do not wish the rest of the realm to know of. House Greyjoy's silence is even more concerning than when they actively raid.

House Lannister retains the closest relationship with the crown, for the Lord Paramount's heir, Jon "The Black Lion" Lannister has remained a steadfast companion. There are whispers though, that this friendship may be fraying. Rumors of what caused the rift are ever-changing, some mundane and others extreme.

Still, those that wish to improve their lots in life or ruin the lots of others, flock to King's Landing.





OOC Outline:
Hello there! It's another GoT/ASOIAF RP in the style that myself and a few others have hosted plenty of times over the years. Those who are familiar with this style of play likely know what you're in for, but for those that may not be so, here are some guidelines (and updates from previous iterations).

Players will create a House and roleplay with members of it. It is expected and necessary - due to scope of in world geography and to avoid player boredom - that a House is the basis of your play. That said, not all player characters need to members of their house by blood. You can use several types of characters as points of view. The world of Westeros provides many options whether it be Septons, hedge knights, spies and spymasters, mercenaries, in addition to languishing heirs and fourth sons desperate to make a name for themselves. While we begin in canon, it is not where the story will end.

This game will continue the tradition of a sandbox/storyline hybrid like all of our prior games. While GRRM built a huge world and centuries of lore, he left out many details. Even though we will ask that only canon houses are played, canon houses rarely have canon characters. You have the freedom to take the name, their sigil, and words but make the characters your own.

As a different start from nearly all previous iterations, we begin this story without an impending canon catalyst. To provide some thought nuggets to chew on, here's a few ideas of motivators for player houses:
  • The Otherys bastards across the Narrow Sea - a political threat some may wish to leverage, or prevent
  • Persuade Aegon that you (or close family member) would be a better option on the Small Council
  • Align with forces supporting Lord Commander Aemon/Queen Naerys
  • Align with forces supporting Daena
  • Subvert your Lord Paramount or rival Houses


Sheet Template





OOC Rules and Guidelines:
  • Advanced standards; common sense approach; game of logic and collaboration.
  • House + Character Sheets should be posted on the OOC (though they can be sent via pm as well) for approval/disapproval. Not all decisions will be made public. Approved sheets go in the approved section.
  • You are assumed to be an adult by submitting a character for this game; please act like one.
  • Players playing Great Lords will have the chance to weigh in on applications for Minor Lords under their Great Lord.
  • Applications may take a few days before a decision can be made. Generally issues will be resolved over pm (forum or Discord)
  • Players are encouraged to play typically one-on-one scenarios, large battle scenarios, cloak-and-dagger scenarios, small plots and large plots. To be creative, and to interactive with their fellow players on their own to plot. Take initiative.








@Blubaron45@Bugman@Tlaloc@Bloodrose@Raqueltrper

Just a quick update to everyone who's posted here so far - feel free to join the Discord (if you haven't already). I am going to start working on the OOC & should have my personal house (House Swann) finalized for the OOC.
@Raqueltrper

Hello! The latter, canon houses with (very likely) your own OCs. If there is a house that actually has known members at this time, we would expect that they remain as existing entities, even if you choose to not RP them as your characters.

There are very few houses that have known characters in the lore during this period, so it is wide open with possibilities. Also always happy to help brainstorm ideas for houses.

A Song of Ice and Fire: A Gilded Throne

DISCORD


Aenys was weak and Maegor was cruel and Aegon II was grasping, but no king before or after that would practice so much willful misrule.
Kaeth - Lives of Four Kings


IC outline:
Westeros has been in slow burning chaos for decades. When dragon turned against dragon and dueled across sky and land, their eventual peace in 131 AC did not bring stability. A long and strife-filled regency coincided with a harsh winter and a plague. The crown had no time to resolve petty disputes amongst the great houses. Lannisters and Greyjoys fought while the Vale descended into its own succession crisis.

The dragons did not rebuild their numbers either, try as he might, King Aegon III failed to restore their numbers and oversaw the final death in 153 AC. Whispers remain even to today, of what foul magic the Dance had unleashed that would end the source of House Targaryen's power. After all, what are dragon lords with no dragons?

Perhaps eager to prove their might still remained even without the powerful creatures, peace was short-lived with a full invasion of Dorne begun in 157 AC by King Daeron I. Victory was brief, the regent left behind - Lord Lyonel Tyrell - was killed in uprising against the Iron Throne. Upon Daeron's return in 161 AC, he too was slain. His brother, Baelor, was crowned, a man better suited for a Sept than a Throne. Though the smallfolk loved him, his attention was ever diverted to the Seven above, rather than his liege below. King Baelor's rule rankled his lords, his edicts and decrees ranged from charitable to tyrannical. Though many still sought to find favor by providing their own daughters as companions in the Maidenvault that held the King's three sisters - lest they tempt any man with their beauty.

Leading up to Baelor's death in 171 AC, just a few years ago, concerning whispers reached some ears that he sought to wipe out all faiths but the one true Faith of the Seven. His death was perhaps most timely in preventing all out civil war with the North and the Iron Islands.

Perhaps by all rights, it was Daena who should have been crowned Queen as the next eldest in line to the throne. Yet, memories regarding women and the Iron Throne were long. With great mean citing the precedents of the Great Council of 101 AC and the Dance of the Dragons, Daena's and her sisters' claims were quickly set aside in favor of their uncle, King Viserys II, who had ruled in all but name while Aegon brooded, Daeron warred, and Baelor prayed.

His true reign was short-lived, and he died from sudden illness in 172 AC. His eldest son, Aegon, succeeded him as King Aegon IV, and the realms trembled yet again. While Viserys was not well-loved and looked upon with suspicion for Baelor's death, his son was already well known for letting his desires rule him, no matter his charisma and wit.

Since his ascension, King's Landing has been in repetitive cycles of feasts and scandals. Aegon thrives on sowing discord among his eager subjects and takes joy in pitting them against one another. His closest friends and confidantes are one unknown misstep away from becoming his foe. Lords and ladies seek his favor through whatever means available to them. It has been a tumultuous time, all the while his long-suffering siblings do their duties for the realm.

Just a few years after taking the throne, the King decided - against all protests - to launch a new invasion of Dorne. He would finish what his cousins had left unfinished. Aegon's son and heir vehemently opposed this, only to find rumors begun that he was a bastard, born of his mother's affair with her other brother, Aemon. The invasion was over before it began, with the fleet scattered and destroyed by a vicious spring storm.

---

It is 178 AC, Aegon IV is in his sixth year of rule, Summer continues on with the Citadel predicting at least one more year before Autumn.

The realm has been fractured and neglected for too long. In the North, House Stark suffers after Lord Cregan's death. His sons left much to be desired in securing a legacy. The Vale continues to rebuild following their own succession crisis that resolved less than fifty years ago. The Riverlands are beset by more infighting among the Brackens and Blackwoods; although not uncommon, King Aegon has spurred it to new levels of animosity with his choice of mistresses. House Tully has been consumed with the effort of keeping peace under their purview.

Other major houses are even more silent. House Tyrell and Baratheon seem to bide their time, or perhaps are dealing with their own internal conflicts they do not wish the rest of the realm to know of. House Greyjoy's silence is even more concerning than when they actively raid.

House Lannister retains the closest relationship with the crown, for the Lord Paramount's heir, Jon "The Black Lion" Lannister has remained a steadfast companion. There are whispers though, that this friendship may be fraying. Rumors of what caused the rift are ever-changing, some mundane and others extreme.

Still, those that wish to improve their lots in life or ruin the lots of others, flock to King's Landing.





OOC outline:
Hello there! It's another GoT/ASOIAF RP in the style that myself and a few others have hosted plenty of times over the years. Those who are familiar with this style of play likely know what you're in for, but for those that may not be so, here are some guidelines (and updates from previous iterations).

Players will create a House and roleplay with members of it. It is expected and necessary - due to scope of in world geography and to avoid player boredom - that a House is the basis of your play. That said, not all player characters need to members of their house by blood. You can use several types of characters as points of view. The world of Westeros provides many options whether it be Septons, hedge knights, spies and spymasters, mercenaries, in addition to languishing heirs and fourth sons desperate to make a name for themselves. While we begin in canon, it is not where the story will end.

This game will continue the tradition of a sandbox/storyline hybrid like all of our prior games. While GRRM built a huge world and centuries of lore, he left out many details. Even though we will ask that only canon houses are played, canon houses rarely have canon characters. You have the freedom to take the name, their sigil, and words but make the characters your own.

As a different start from nearly all previous iterations, we begin this story without an impending canon catalyst. To provide some thought nuggets to chew on, here's a few ideas of motivators for player houses:
  • The Otherys bastards across the Narrow Sea - a political threat some may wish to leverage, or prevent
  • Persuade Aegon that you (or close family member) would be a better option on the Small Council
  • Align with forces supporting Lord Commander Aemon/Queen Naerys
  • Align with forces supporting Daena
  • Subvert your Lord Paramount or rival Houses




@Ezekiel



Andrew

Son of Demeter




...r e c e n t l y…


Things had just started to be good. Or mostly, anyways, with his dad. And with Jenna too, even if she was getting a little pushy about them getting an apartment, in town somewhere. He hadn’t really wanted to do that, he liked his greenhouse, the farm, the space. He liked it even if the rest of it with his step-mom and half-siblings was kind of awful. But he loved her, so he said yes.

Leaving his home was hard, but he made it easier by waiting until everyone else had gone to bed. Andrew hadn’t packed much, a few sets of clothes, his favorite books, seed sachets, and Minthe - a favorite of his potted plants. He wrote a note in his rough handwriting, several words scratched out with fits and starts of what he wanted to say before he decided to toss that and just text before take off. Less chance of anyone trying to talk him out of it or ask him to stay, even if he did think that was unlikely.

Night crept to morning as he drove down mostly empty country roads. It gave him time to think, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel then gripping it tightly when a wave of anxiety hit him. Every time his mind drifted to thoughts of just turning around and going home, a worse anxiety hit. What would Demeter do if he did that? Andrew didn’t really want to find out, or see what happened if divine anger was turned against him. So he drove on, civilization increasing with the coming daylight.

At the airport, he parked in long-term parking, a wistful hope that his dad would come retrieve the thing before it needed to be towed. He slung the half-filled duffel bag over one shoulder, realization sinking in that there was no way they were going to let him take a live plant to another country. He rested his hands above the passenger door, lips pressed in thought. He couldn’t leave Minthe behind. Andrew’s hands dropped and he ducked inside the passenger door. The pot was heavy, he struggled to pull it from the seat where he’d strapped it in for safety on the long drive.

With it safely on the ground, he knelt beside it and softly ran his fingers through the tender leaves. “It’s ok, you’re coming with me, you just have to shrink a little.” As he whispered, the bushy plant seemed to un-grow. Leaves curled in on themselves, stems withdrew back towards the buried roots, runners and new shoots disappeared. A few seconds later and Andrew was able to smoothly pluck the plant from the soil. It was barely larger than his thumb then. He fished out a small glass vial from his duffel bag and secured Minthe inside it.

He cleared security without issue after that. He waited until he had boarded and settled into his economy seat before he pulled out his phone. He should do it before he left, much longer and maybe people would actually do something like check with the police.

The first message went to his dad. Andrew checked the time first and breathed a sigh of relief. It was 11:13, his dad would be in county meetings for the rest of the afternoon, and he was a stickler for devices not interfering with his meetings. Probably wouldn’t even see it for another two hours at least, when he’d finally relent and let people order in lunch.

Hey…so, she showed up and said I had to go to this camp for people like me. Idk how long, but I’m on my way already. The car’s parked in R18, if you want it back. I’ll try to let you know what’s going on when I can. Sorry, love you.

He shifted in his seat, wondering if he should send anything separately to his siblings, but quickly decided against it. They wouldn't care or would make his dad aware of it too soon. Not worth it. Just Jenna then. His stomach turned and twisted, sweat beaded on his forehead. He wiped it away, his fingers leaving a trail as they swiped across his screen.

I’m going away on a trip…for a while. I understand if that makes things difficult
-Send-
I love you
-Send-
Sorry

Andrew’s eyes went wide when he saw the three moving dots appear. He quickly powered down the phone rather than change it to airplane mode. The pit of anxiety grew at wondering whatever it was she had said, but pressed against the others in his row, that anxiety turned instead to the discomfort of long haul flights. His long frame scrunched itself in a futile attempt at comfort and he dozed, off and on, for the long journey.





The island he eventually made his way to had it’s own store of unwanted adventure. It was a different kind of chill than he had grown up with, but even as it bit at him, he had pushed on. His anxiety had grown considerably over the past day and a half. He had about a dozen unread messages and emails, the preview showing him glances of the hell that waited for him when he finally would sit down and swallow the frog.

But not yet, he kept it all at bay by pushing the task away until he was in camp. That’s what he told himself, over and over. His hand kept reaching into the thick felt pocket he had stashed Minthe in, fingers brushing against it as a reminder that she was still there. Andrew looked forward to getting something appropriate to replant her into. Task number one, and then he would finally read what his father, girlfriend, and stepmother had sent him.

All the footprints at the entrance told him there was in fact life here, though he hadn’t seen a soul since he began his hike many hours prior. It was still early, though he had always been an early bird; a blessing, maybe a curse, of growing up on a farm.

The fingerprint reader was easily found, as Demeter had said it would be. He hesitated, though. His posture bent in on himself with one last attempt at deciding if this was really what he was going to do. Andrew pressed his thumb to the reader and trudged through the gate as it opened to him. Returning home would mean his mother’s anger for sure, and that continued to worry him more than anything else.

His eyes went wide as he realized just how much there was here. He had expected to see some cabins, not what appeared to be a giant arena in the distance. Or the massive buildings to his right and left. The din of people gathering became readily apparent the closer he drew, a scattering of people milled about. His throat bobbed and he slouched more, an instinctual response.

Andrew forged ahead, his head down, eyes in front of him as he sought out the warmth of the building ahead. Much as he had his entire life before, he avoided making eye contact with anyone as heat pleasantly blasted away the deep chill he had acquired on his journey.

It was louder, but he was greeted too with the aroma of a hot meal. He licked his lips, chapped and rough.Minthe had to come first, even if the smell brought with it the best kind of homesickness. He scanned the buffet line for what he had in mind.

Perfect.

He loped off quickly towards what seemed to be a juice bar and grabbed a glass tumbler. A few moments later he was trotting back outside and clearing snow away to get to the cold ground beneath. Placing the glass gently to the side, he dug his fingers in, past the grass and frozen top layer to scoop out a bit of good soil. It was good soil, he knew it, could tell the same way he could smell how good breakfast was. It was rich and it would nurture Minthe back to what she was before their travels. He pressed it lightly into the glass and wiped his hand quickly against his jacket and pants.

Back inside, even with the tantalizing smell of breakfast, he distractedly picked out an empty end of a long table and sat, his pack sliding off his shoulder to the ground with a slight thud. Andrew set the now soil filled glass on the table in front of him and carefully fished the vial from his pocket. He delicately plucked the thin plant with one hand and set a small indentation into the soil with his other. With little urging on his part, the roots sought out the soil and helped it along the rest of the way until it had secured itself. He could do more with nurturing her later, but fow now, she had what she needed.

He smiled to himself, a small thing that pulled at both corners of his lips. A quick sigh of contentment before everything else came back on what he needed to do. He looked around the hall again quickly, wondering if anyone had noticed what he had done. Would it be weird here too?

His phone buzzed in his pocket and his spirits sank again. Right, time to get it over with, before he ate. No more pushing it off.

Andrew unlocked the device and opened his texts. It was a dozen from Jenna alone. Increasingly frantic messages until the last one, sent a few hours ago. It was full of misspellings and words he struggled to piece together. She’d been drunk.

Donut ducking matter
were done


Oh. Right, well that was probably fair. He felt himself contract anyways, his heart heavy and stomach sick. He could read the rest later. He saw the notifications for the message with his dad, the emails that raged in his unread notifications. Maybe they’d all be over it by the time he went home. Whenever that was.

He slumped down onto one elbow, the coat uncomfortably warm already, but his previous hunger gone. Instead his fingers danced over the small leaves that responded to each movement, unfurling and growing little by little with each ministration.







...o u t s i d e t h e m a i n h a l l…


She didn’t know what she had expected, but it hadn’t exactly been this. It felt massive now that she was inside the camp. Walking on her own, though, she began to see that she was not in fact alone. Nervous excitement tingled down her spine. Who else came to this place, why were they there, who ran it? Questions that had seemed nebulous up until the exact moment she found herself face to face with a guy offering her his hand.

Lennie gave a quick but wide grin. He looked about her age and had an easiness to his demeanor that she returned with her now gloveless hand. “Hey, I’m Lennie.” She squeezed his hand, and looked up from below snow dusted lashes. A quick but firm shake and she withdrew from the touch with a soft shrug to shift the backpack’s weight around. She nodded her head towards the building referenced with his question. “Seems like it’s the place to be, may as well, right?”

She relaxed more, grinning at the idea of a party. Now that would be very useful, even if between now and then she was certain there’d be a long, hot shower involved and probably a nap. Hopefully a luxurious one where she could sprawl across a bed covered with down comforters and pillows. The thought of it was nearly enough to lull her away where she was standing. “Maybe you can show me the best ones then, don’t want to miss out.” Wide lips pulled up for a warm and toothy smile again, “I suppose I can take care of that first before heading in to see what everyone else is getting up to.”

Lennie began to follow where her new acquaintance was moving towards when she was distracted by a voice calling out.

“Attention new campers.”

Her head turned back, over her shoulder to see another woman commanding attention towards her. The small crowd that had been milling in the area seemed to pause in unison. Lennie followed along, quickly wondering if she was who ran the place. Quick judgements ran through her mind, not entirely sure of herself, but bold enough to take control of the situation. Friend, frenemy? There’d be a lot to sort through tonight. That’d be the goal then, slide up to as many of the people who’d been here longer and scope out the right who’s who to become besties with.

And find out whatever causes that long, unexplained pause about when or why she had been de facto leader. Interesting, probably, and a puzzle like that was going to be more fun than wallowing any more. Lennie had stayed close to Daniel, though she hadn’t spared more than a couple of glances or smiles while they listened to Andy address them all. Check and check on who to go looking for as the current person in charge. Surfer type? Not what she expected, but, if anything, she could be versatile.

She was about to whisper something to him, when Andy addressed Daniel directly. Lennie’s eyes widened a bit, though the smile never waivered. What luck that it was the brother that had first stumbled upon her. Hopefully luck, he seemed nice, but that could prove tricky, depending on what drama brewed beneath the surface.

“Tsk, I guess I’ll need a new guide if I can’t trust you.” She teased with a small chuckle. “I’ll give it a pass, for now, if we can get some coffee first.” Lennie slid the backpack around again as her mind raced with the tidbits of details that she was eager to fill in the gaps of. Gods’ names being dropped so naturally still felt foreign to her, even if she had spent most of her life knowing her father was one. And for whatever reason, it hadn’t even occurred to her that they could have multiple kids who would be here. Fuck, her mom would be pissed if it turned out she had a sibling here. Or, would have been. Damn.

“Apollo, by the way.” She offered up belatedly and more awkwardly than she intended. It had seemed important for Andy to share that information, so maybe that's what was expected. “That’s my dad, anyways. So, off we go?”


interactions | Daniel *** mentions | Andy








...o n e w e e k a g o…


It was a hotel they'd stayed at before, a few years ago, when Lennie was first applying to universities, touring them, interviewing. McGill was in Montreal, but Quebec City had drawn them in instead. At least Ava had always made sure her daughter learned both languages of Canada, and it served her well both for applying at McGill and in vacationing in Quebec City. They had gotten along well on that trip, mostly, except when Lennie had refused again to even speak to the department heads for music or medicine.

She pushed away that annoying thread of guilt that refused to abate. They had traveled frequently, even beyond just how often they had moved around. Her time at university had been one of her longest stretches of staying in one city. And even then, each holiday or summer break had meant taking off with her mother, across Canada or down to the States, a quick trip to London or Paris - though they were unfathomably snobby about her French.

She lounged in one one the suite’s plush lounge chairs, bare legs dangling over one of the arms. A groan pushed out of her throat and her head bounced against the opposite chair arm. “Why even bother?” Guilt from what had happened and what could never happen pulled her down, pushed her one way then the other. She had been languishing in the luxury of the Fairmont for two weeks now. Her mother’s estate had been settled, her funeral already just a memory.

The words bounced around the empty room, meant for no one other than to put meaning to the dreadful feeling that embraced her, smothered her. Why bother with her mom’s final request - no - not request, instructions - no - orders? Why bother finally embracing the pieces of her tied to a father who couldn't ever bother to show up, not even once, in her entire life. Not once, even with how lovesick her mother was twenty years later. Not once, when she was left alone to carry on.

“What else am I going to do?” She answered her thoughts aloud. Her final year at university was over before it ever began, though they had offered her a year deferral due to trauma. Maybe she could return to that, it annoyed her to be so close and yet not finish it properly. A year of travel first, one party to another, continue the high life like her mother had always done. Then back to McGill and finish undergrad even if it…

“Die, probably.”

The voice came suddenly, with a bright figure blinking into being. Elena had time to fling herself forward from the chair to her feet, her heart in her throat, when recognition triggered. Even if she had never seen him before, there was no mistaking the man, the god before her.

“Very slow. You need the training.” The man looked her over, his voice a beautiful music that should have been pleasant and soothing. It probably would have been to anyone else, even tainted heavily with judgement.

Lennie frowned. Now? Now is when he shows up without even a hello or how are you doing or sorry for your loss? The words couldn't form in time, her mouth dry and tongue refusing to form the many rebuttals that coursed through her mind. She could only stare at him, eyes wide, arms crossed against her abdomen, mouth slightly agape. She hadn’t even brushed her hair that day, it was in a mess of a bundle that threatened to come undone at the slightest movement.

“You're taking too long. You cannot be late.” His voice still dripped with judgement, other than his tone, his body was loose and he looked at her with all the disinterest of meeting a new intern or something. Still, it sounded like a threat to her, more than a warning.

“Here.” He extended a hand that was now wrapped around a glimmering roll of paper. “The Camp is not easy to find, don't disappoint me.”

He turned away the moment Lennie took the scroll from him. Her mouth finally caught up with the raging thoughts. “That's it?” She hated the way that squeaked out, disappointment laced through a simple question. “That's all you have to say to me?”

“Yes. Goodbye, Elena.”

He was gone, the room darker without his brilliance. Midday sun still poured into the room through the wide open curtains, but it felt dim and drab now, as her eyes readjusted. Her heart raced, thumping against her chest with a dying surge of adrenaline.

Her mother had known about the camp, how? It was a question she had tried hard to ignore ever since that stupid email appeared in her inbox. She had known and hidden it, hidden how she had learned about it, until it was too late for them to have an explosive weeks-long argument about it.

“Well fuck you too mom. Dad. Both of you.” Rage-filled tears threatened to spill out. Lennie’s hands squeezed the roll and for a brief moment she considered tossing it in the trash and leaving regardless of what Apollo said.

Slow? She wasn't slow. She wasn't disappointing. Who was he to say that as if he had ever been around to know just what she was capable of?

Lennie looked at the scattered bits of her life throughout the suite and let out a long sigh. A challenge was a challenge even if she didn't want it to be. It would pick and scrape at her until she just did the thing to prove she could.

So she would.




...n o w…outside camp




The rest of her trip had been uneventful. The flight to Athens International had been long enough that she had a couple of nice naps in between watching trashy new releases. The wine hadn’t hurt either. From Athens she took a couple of puddle jumper flights until she landed on the island her mother’s instructions had contained.

It hadn’t been hard to see which direction to go next, even without her da-Apollo’s instructions. The mountain loomed over the island, and quickly enough it surrounded her. The last few miles took longer than the rest of her journey to the camp.

Lennie pushed herself the rest of the way, the scroll Apollo had given her had been nothing more than a compass that she trusted pointed not north but to Camp Athens. It took her a winding path up the mountain. The weather turned colder, though nothing quite like the winters spent in Alberta or Calgary. Snow began to fall and then the ground was covered with a deep blanket of white. She was glad she had bought hiking gear in town before taking off.

She wasn’t sure if it was her head or not, but at a certain point, something felt different. She trudged on, checking the compass every so often to ensure she was still going in the right direction. The wall that appeared at the horizon told her she had. She crumpled the scroll into her backpack, if she couldn’t find her way from here, she really would be a disappointment.

No one seemed to be around, though she thought there were others that had gone this way from footprints still visible in the snow. The gate closed but left unmanned. “Anyone home?” She called out, her voice carried away and muffled by wind and snow.

Lennie laughed dryly. All this distance to be stopped at a gate? Her eyes darted around the gate where it met the wall, looking for an intercom box or alarm, or…something. The small metal box finally caught her attention. She pulled off a thick glove to feel around, her thumb landing against a cold smooth glass surface. A buzz followed by the creak of metal told her it had been that simple. And weird, definitely weird.

She walked through the gates, buildings ahead of her, she made her way towards the largest, calling out in a half-sing-song manner again. “Hellooooo!”
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