deercountry | april catchall [ota + closed starters]

Entry tags:

april catchall [ota + closed starters]

Who: Clarisse + you
What: It's aaaa generic birthday mingle! + some closed starters
When: April, particularly around the 15th
Where: Earworm

Content Warnings: Drinking and potentially those Special Mushrooms that are available at Earworm

[ What do you do when you're turning twenty one in a month of perpetual darkness, but your blood type isn't making you hallucinate or want to punch yourself in the face until you fall into a coma for one of the first times since you arrived in Trench?

If you're Clarisse, you park yourself at Earworm and pretty much just stay there.

For the first half of April—particularly on the fifteenth and the days close to it—Clarisse can be found hanging out at the club—either inside already, or lingering near the entrance. If you're already on her (very short) list of friends she's probably texted you an actual invite; but the fact that she's somehow survived another year seems to have her in a good mood, and even if she doesn't know you too well, she'll give a nod when she recognizes you. (Or, potentially, even if she doesn't recognize you.) ]

Drink?

[ ... And, listen, if she's already drunk, she might offer you a mushroom, too. Because why not. ]

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So you're just some regular normal human who used to have a name that comes from a dead language even older than ancient Greek. That totally makes sense.

[ She turns her glass around in her fingers, thinking it over. ] Time traveler?

[ But she doesn't think that's it (time travel is bullshit, right?) and honestly, she doesn't expect Andy to tell her anyway, and perhaps most surprisingly, she isn't even that mad about it. It'll just give her something to keep trying to guess at. ]

[ Andy actually makes an amused little noise at that guess. ]

Only if living through time is the same as traveling through it. [ Dryly: ] I'm old. That's all. Call it immortality, if you want. But that's not really true either. I'll die. I just haven't yet.

[ That's probably an unimpressive way of describing the whole thing, but it's more or less true. The pseudo-immortality. The curse. Whatever it is. She's seen others like her die — one day, something kills them, and there's no telling why that time was different from all the ones before. There aren't any answers. Just enduring. Living. Waiting. ]

Otherwise, it's not like I have super-strength or anything. I'm definitely not a fucking god. Just human. [ With a sidelong glance at Clarisse: ] Which probably makes you more interesting than me by default.

[ Immortality is weird, but Clarisse is used to weird shit, so it doesn't throw her too hard. Hanging around immortals is something she has quite a bit of experience with, actually. And not even just the gods, but beings like Chiron. She's not intimidated, but she is a little impressed to be talking to someone who actually lived through all the wars she's learned about. Not that she'll show it. ]

Damn. So you are just some old woman in a bar. [ She gives Andy a smug little smile, because... she's a brat. ]

Do you get bored? [ she continues after a moment, more thoughtful. ] I think I'd get bored.

Constantly. Fuck.

[ The "old woman" seems amused by Clarisse's question. That's not what people usually ask when they find out she's immortal — though honestly, the occasion to have this talk have always been intentionally few and far between. ]

Can't tell you how much of being immortal is just killing time. Don't know how the gods do it. That's probably why they're always stirring up shit in the old stories.

[ Wryly then: ]

If there's any truth to the old stories at all.

[ Clarisse gives Andy an odd look. ] Of course there's truth to them.

[ Because if you accept that the gods exist, you also need to accept the existence of everything else in the myths, right? All the heroes, the stuff they did, the monsters they fought. And Andy didn't call bullshit on the whole "my dad is a god" thing, so... ]

It doesn't seem like they're up to much these days, but they're still just as around as ever. Most people just don't know what they're seeing.

[ Andy shrugs a little in response. Myths are a mixed bag, as far as she's concerned. There are legends about her too — most of them contain a thread or two of truth, but the details get distorted beyond recognition over the centuries. Personally, she doesn't mind it much. Makes it easier to move unnoticed if people expect the myth, when the truth is — it's just like Clarisse said, isn't it? She's just some old woman sitting in a bar. ]

Well, apparently they're still making kids. [ With a mild wryness: ] Wonder if that says something about their divine priorities.

[ That gets Clarisse to chuckle into her drink. ]

Uh, yeah, they're definitely still doing that. Even the ones who swore an oath not to. [ Because, you know, oaths made on the river Styx are made to be broken, or whatever. ]

Good to know the word of a god is worth shit all.

[ Not terribly surprising though. Gods do what they want. That's how gods work, isn't it? That's definitely how she did things, when they worshipped her as a god. Wasn't healthy — but who the fuck was gonna try and tell her that? ]

You kids have a support group for demigods or something? [ Wryly: ] Probably wouldn't hurt.

[ She's just gonna... not comment on that, because agreeing with Andy would feel like betraying the gods. Andy is correct, though—the gods do what they want. Clarisse's silence probably says as much. ]

There's a training camp. Satyrs find little demigods and bring them there before they get eaten by monsters or whatever.

Some fucking training camp if most of you end up dying anyway.

[ She should probably stop judging how the gods and their ilk do things in another universe. But what the hell are those gods going to do to her anyway? Besides, Andy's been blasphemous for at least the last several thousand years, and she isn't one to change her habits. Old dog, new tricks. ]

What happens to all the little demigods after that?

[ Clarisse shrugs in response. People die all the time (unless they're immortal, excuse her), and demigods at least make up for it by getting to do some cool shit beforehand. ]

Lately a lot of us have been going to college. [ For... some reason. ]

[ That earns a skeptical little look. ]

College.

[ Which... is perfectly reasonable for modern young people to do. Andy never bothered, of course — by the time such institutions were commonplace, she was several thousand years old already — but that doesn't mean she disapproves, exactly. It just seems... ]

Weirdly normal, for a bunch of divine half-bloods.

I'm serious!

[ And, yeah, it's kind of stupid and ultimately pretty pointless, but what else are they supposed to do besides try and live some kind of normal life? It's not like they can stay at Camp Half-Blood forever, living in cabins with their half-siblings and singing at the campfire every night. (Even if she does still miss it sometimes.) ]

I mean, what do you do? You have to do something, right? Unless— [ This has just occurred to her. ] Are you like insanely rich and you can just hang out and relax for the rest of time? [ Like Dracula or something. ]

[ Clarisse isn't totally wrong. There's hideouts, secret stashes, and caves all over the world with hordes of valuable things that Andy's collected throughout the years. She has money. The work she does pays better than it should. But none of that had ever made her happy. None of it had ever made the immortality bearable. So. Most of it just collects dust — and has been, for centuries.

Andy has a little look in her eye when she finally answers, the dryness in her voice making it hard to tell if she's joking or not: ]

I kill people.

[ It's hard to tell whether Andy's being serious or not, but the thing is, Clarisse believes her. Mostly, she just doesn't see how anybody could live for more than a couple centuries without killing a few people. That's the kind of thing that just happens, right? Like, it's bound to come up. (Or maybe that's totally off base and it's some "my dad is a god of war" weirdness ingrained in her. Whatever.)

She takes a long drink from her glass so the taste of it covers up any hint of concern in her expression. ]

Like... for money, or for pleasure? [ It's an important distinction, okay. ]

[ That's a reasonable question to ask, when a person tells you they kill people. That, and how many. Better not to touch that second topic though. Seven thousand years is a long time. And Andy's been fighting wars for most of it. Honestly, she's not sure she could put a number to it, even if she had to. ]

Neither really. [ For good, she'd say, on a better day. To make the world a little better somehow. But sometimes it doesn't feel like it mattered. Especially not now, a universe away. So, instead: ] Money, I guess. If it's that or the other thing.

[ She glances over at Clarisse again. ]

What about you? College, like the others?

Oh. Okay.

[ "Neither" seems like an okay answer. Implies that Andy isn't a sadist, at least, which is always nice when you're dealing with an immortal. They can get like that. ]

I was, yeah. University of Arizona. [ But she was still only halfway through her first year when she got dragged off to another universe, so does it even really count? ]

[ The name doesn't mean much to Andy. She knows where Arizona is. But collegiate culture is always going to be a mystery to her. So she makes a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement. It's probably good at that the little demigods got to have a taste of normal life, but she can't imagine it lasted. Never did for her.

Wryly: ]

What did you want to be when you grow up?

[ That's what you ask college students, right? ]

[ Clarisse frowns, shrugs a shoulder. ] Nothing, [ she says after a few seconds, but it isn't sarcastic or because it's nobody's business. She's being honest.

Thinking about the future isn't something she's ever done. Sure, maybe when she was little she'd had some kind of idea, but not since it's been beaten into her that her demigods die too young for plans to matter. It's why she's always been so adrift since she left Camp. Suddenly she was out of high school, still alive, with no idea of what to do next. College was fine. It was... a step toward normalcy, even if it pissed off her father. ]

Guess I'll figure that out if I graduate.

[ Nothing? Andy glances at Clarisse with a raised eyebrow. ]

Why? Because you don't really expect to make it that far?

Pretty much, yeah.

[ Clarisse rubs her face with one hand in a gesture of exhaustion, like even thinking about this stuff is enough to make her want to find a quiet spot to curl up and sleep for a few days. ]

A lot of shit was going down when I was a teenager. You know, like—wars. I was... busy. And then I was tired? [ If she weren't a little drunk she wouldn't be admitting that. Children of war gods don't get tired of fighting, or at least they're not supposed to act like it. ] I don't even know if I'll ever go back there, but if I do I'll figure something out.

[ She can sympathize — not with the whole college bit, but with the exhaustion certainly. Maybe they're not drunk enough for this conversation. Andy waves the bartender over and orders another round of drinks for both of them. Her treat. ]

You're too young to be so tired. [ Wryly: ] Barely two decades. Better find something worth living for or it'll never get easier.

[ Clarisse grins. She's not gonna say thank you for the drink, but it's obvious that she appreciates it. Like a little birthday gift of wastedness. Fucking cheers. ]

Yeah, don't worry, it's all good now. [ Spoken in the way only someone who deliberately shoves their trauma as deep as humanly possible can. ] I have a hot girlfriend and my own house, so I'm pretty much living the dream. [ Aside from all the horrific shit that happens here, but WHATEVER. ]

[ She might be less thankful for tomorrow's hangover, but that's a problem for later — if demigods can even get those. ]

Amazing what a hot girlfriend and a house can fix. [ Her wryness remains, but it's amicable enough. Truthfully, Andy can relate. ] Though more credit's probably due to the former than the later.

The house isn't that great. My apartment back in Deerington was better. Plus, our house is in the middle of nowhere.

[ When they'd moved in that had been a definite plus for Clarisse, but nowadays it's mostly just annoying. ]

But, yeah, she's pretty amazing.

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april catchall [ota + closed starters]

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