AlteredTundra

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

“What is that atrocious odor?” Zyran gagged as he stepped into the Grand City of Atutania.

No, not grand. Nothing about the plain, unrefined peasant-for-a-city that was Atutania was deserving of the title of grand. His father, Hisham, now that was someone who was fitting of the title “Grand Prince”. His home of Atuunis was fitting of being called grand, but the shithole that he was forced to travel to? Unacceptable! It’s an insult.

Prince Zyran was someone who hated traveling and he hated it even more when the end of his journey made the slums feel like paradise. For almost a fortnight, with nothing but three of the best guardsmen that the Siada family could afford traveled with him, Zyran encountered all sorts of horrors. He experienced the lack of a comfortable bed and had to settle for inns like he was some commoner. Imagine that! Zyran Siada having to sleep in a bed no bigger than how far he could stretch his limber legs. And that was on the nights where they could rest comfortably…Or whatever the commoners thought comfort was. There was no servant to wash him, dress him, or sit there as he vented about the problems he had. The closest thing to that was the owner of these inns, but after barely scratching the surface, they silenced him and even threatened to kick him and his hired guards out of the inn.

So what if he offered to buy the inn if these owners kicked everyone else out so he and his traveling companions could have the place to themselves? It’s not like he insulted the wives and partners of these innkeepers. Zyran wouldn’t dare do that.

Well that’s why he’s in such a sour mood. No inns or commoner levels of comfort for nearly a week. Word traveled fast about the entitled prince of Atuunis fast and inns refused him. But he had standards.

Zyran walked alone through the main festival grounds of the Day of Heroes. It wasn’t the worst, he supposed. There was a certain flare to it, but it lacked refinement. The smells that penetrated his senses was like a sneak attack from someone without honor. Or when the servants address him as just “Zyran”. No use of “my lord” or “prince”. It’s so unrefined and undignified. What he felt invade his nose was the lack of spices.

The prince, whose white hair, attire of an elaborately-designed robe with silk sashes holding it up, and entire bravado came to a stop at one of the…chefs were trying to entice him with what, as the man called it, an Atutanian delicacy.

“It’s a meat pie. It doesn’t even look like you seasoned it,” The Hahrali prince sourly said, disgust on his face and he made a point to make sure the seller knew it.

“So do you want it or not?”

And the disgust devolved into a deeper level of disgust that was also insulted. “You really think I would poison my perfect body with this…filth?” With a laugh, Zyran walked away.

Not long, Zyran felt his insides grumble with hunger and he ended up buying one of the atrocious meat pie (certainly not like the Sfeeha the cooks make back home) only so he wouldn’t succumb to hunger going into the proving grounds. Each bite felt like he was insulting his palette. The unseasoned beef and how overcooked it was was demeaning to someone like him. It felt like the ultimate betrayal. Despite that, he consumed it so he had the energy for what knew was going to be a difficult day.

---

Zyran, with a belly full of spiritually-poisoned subsistence, had finally freed himself of the decaying odor of mediocracy that were the streets of Atutania and was closer to the proving grounds where he would show just how far superior he was to everyone. It’s where he would start his journey to become a knight of the order and prove to his father that, though his siblings have all achieved far greater things he has done thus far, being a Warden would far surpass all of them.

But alas, his desire would have to wait. What kept him was one of the worst things imaginable for the prince. Something so horrendous that it made the quiver on his back, the golden bow that was under it, and all muscles in his body ache.

“A line? Really?” He groaned, exasperated. He crossed his arms over each other, almost pouting and tapping his foot quite impatiently.

There was two people in front of him. One was a short redhead whose name seemed familiar. Lina Ariesca? The family name was, at least familiar to him but he couldn’t be bothered to remember. If it was important enough for him to actually care to remember, then he would’ve.

When she moved on, the other who Zyran caught quite the barbaric odor. His nose was sensitive, especially after being exposed to the natural scent of Atutania, the Shithole City, there was something equally as unripen as whoever was in front of him.

And then their name came.

Sternwyss.

What kind of name was that? Certainly no name he has ever heard of. It almost sounded elvish, but that couldn’t be possible. Why would they be here?

Zyran took notice of the ears and that confirmed it. He didn’t know whether to just ask the would-be tree-hugger if they were an elf or just some deformed human or if he should leave it be. It was beneath him to bring up such a matter but it was bothering him. So he decided to follow through with it, but before he could, they moved on so Zyran would have to save that for later.

He stepped forward and looked at the man in armor who stood behind the reception desk. “Name?” She asked in the most ungodly tone of voice. So devoid of passion.

“Are you seriously asking my name? Do you not know who I am?” Zyran gave him the benefit of the doubt and let her gaze upon his face so it would come to her.

“I’ve got no clue. Name?”

Zyran felt his blood boil so much that he was almost going to raise his bow at him. That level of disrespect was treasonous in Atuunis, but the diplomat in him that his mother raised him to be found restraint and clung to it for dear life because he feared his bruised ego wouldn’t let it slide. “I am Prince Zyran, of the GRAND merchant guild of Siada." He added extra emphasis to what he felt was important.

The man seemed to write it down on some piece of parchment. “Ranged combat is over there. There are targets you can shoot that fancy bow of yours at.”

For a moment, he wondered if he really should voice his displeasure with the way she insulted the Prince of Atuunis, but he let it go for now. Zyran would make her regret it when he aced all the trials and blew everyone out of the water.

The prince simply walked into the proving grounds, near the targets and readied himself to outshine everyone. They’ll see the shine of his bow and he’ll amaze them with how far he’s come with his magic. “If anyone wants to watch how it’s done--” He took notice of the peasant Hahrali with the crossbow and scoffed, “--how a real archer gets it done, feel free to watch. Perhaps you might learn a thing or two.” Again, he looked at the Hahrali with the crossbow, as if to direct that directly at them.

And Zyran withdrew his bow and pulled a steel-tipped arrow from the matching gold quiver on his back. As he took his position, he aimed for the center of the target.

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Z Y R A N
Z Y R A N

^{“It's not bad luck that's to blame for your mediocrity. It's simply you were born with inferior genes, but don't be concerned, I will enlighten you.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ There's not many who could be more aesthetic than Prince Zyran Siada, the youngest child of the Siada Merchant family, practically nobility in Hahral. Nobody is better at swaying a gullible sucker into doing what he wants them to do nor a better archer. But it's okay if you don't measure up to him. He forgives you. He'll show you the error of your ways and you'll thank him by being his slave...or friend, as other lands call it. Age: 17 Race: Human Nationality: Hahralian Weapon of Choice: Recurve Bow/Arrows Elemental Affinity: Thunder Spiritual Affinity: Dark

C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ The name Siada is known wide and far among the Free Cities of Hahal. It is the name of one of the richest merchant families in the land and are known for a certain cruelty against those lesser than them. One reason why is because they hold a certain monopoly over merchants, wealthy and not. In this monopoly, they always ensure they receive a massive cut of whatever profits. If they don't receive their money, they react with almost zero mercy. Rumor has it that they have hired bandits and criminal sydnicates to settle debts. Either way they get their money one way or another. And Zyran is the youngest son of Hisham and Zara. Much like his father, Zyran is a skilled archer with the silvertongue, two very specific traits he inherited from his father and mother respectively. He has five older siblings, all of whom have made a name for themselves as merchants and/or warriors. It is Zyran's turn. Both in a sense of obligation and desire to see the world, Zyran will travel to Atutania and become a Hero of the Glade and bring glory to his family. Compared to his siblings—three older brothers and two older sisters—Zyran could be considered the least terrible one. His morals tend to fall in the middle of unreasonably cruel (mainly to slaves and servants) to empathetic but unbearably vain and downright mocking of one's place in society. Zyran was raised a certain way and maybe that his desire to impress his father has clouded his empathy a bit. His way of being nice to people when he isn't being condescending is showing what they did wrong and making an effort to make them feel about it. After all, it's not their fault that they are too fast when wisdom chases them. Just a year ago, Zyran was training and training with his archery instructor. It was a long day and unbearably hot. The sun was high without so much of a cloud in sight and he was out in the desert. Zyran was tasked with finding a rare beast one that only a single arrow between the temple could kill. It would be the final test of Zyran's archery lessons. If he passed and returned to Atuunis, he would earn a spot right by his father in the family business. If not, he would be exiled. All of his siblings had a similar lesson and they all passed with flying colors. Zyran was at death's door and the beast, said to be the size of three bears and looked like a tiger fused with a lion. When Zyran encountered it, he was about to collapse but the beast had charged forward. He took his bow, aimed an arrow but was slow and found himself on his back. The beast was aiming to rip him apart and then an arc of gold lightning was shot from his left arm and he found himself on his feet. The lion-tiger beast was stunned and three arrows in a rapid-fire series of shots found itself between the beast's eyes. Zyran had passed his test and his father rewarded him. And a year later, he would travel to Atutania. All for the family and maybe to prove himself. To do something that none of his siblings had done. If he can do this, he'll have something over them. C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ Antagonistic ⬗ Charming ⬗ Glamourous ⬗ Snide ⬗ Supercilious ⬗ Vain A B I L I T I E S A B I L I T I E S ________________________________________________________________________________________ In terms of magic ability, Zyran might be considered still a novice. Having his elemental affinity awaken just last year, though he has been trying to hone his mastery over it (or just a simple comfort of using it). Through his practice and extreme training in the desert, he has managed to expand the storage of mana that would allow him four shots of lightning bolts. He has also found a theoretical way of shooting lightning-covered arrows with his bow, but this theory came to him the day before he set out for Atutania. He might test it out. Zyran is a skilled archer and among his family, is considered the best. And he certainly chooses to believe he's the best in the world. He excels at the rapid-shot and multi-target shot techniques. He can hit multiple targets with almost pinpoint accuracy as well as being a quick draw with his rapid shots. Combat aside, Zyran is considered an above average manipulator and merchant. He is able to talk people (most of the time) to do what he wants them to do. When he's trying to sell goods, that includes buying the product at the price he wants them to buy rather than what they might be able to afford. There's also getting people to do things for him. Generally he hates getting his hands dirty, so he likes to get others to do it. It doesn't always go according to plan but more often than not, he gets his way. God forbid anyone witnesses the bitch fit he throws and that is legendary on its own.

---

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

damn toma looks like a fuckboy

@Kuro

"And I took that personally" —Zyran probably

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Personification of Perfection, Zyran of Atuunis

Z Y R A N
Z Y R A N

^{“It's not bad luck that's to blame for your mediocrity. It's simply you were born with inferior genes, but don't be concerned, I will enlighten you.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ There's not many who could be more aesthetic than Zyran Siada, the youngest child of the Siada Merchant family, practically nobility in Hahran. Nobody is better at swaying a gullible sucker into doing what he wants them to do nor a better archer. But it's okay if you don't measure up to him. He forgives you. He'll show you the error of your ways and you'll thank him by being his slave...or friend, as other lands call it. Age: 17 Race: Human Nationality: Hahral - Atuunis Weapon of Choice: Recurve Bow/Arrows Elemental Affinity: Thunder Spiritual Affinity: Dark

C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ The name Siada is known wide and far among the Free Cities of Hahran. It is the name of one of the richest merchant families in the land and are known for a certain cruelty against those lesser than them. One reason why is because they hold a certain monopoly over merchants, wealthy and not. In this monopoly, they always ensure they receive a massive cut of whatever profits. If they don't receive their money, they react with almost zero mercy. Rumor has it that they have hired bandits and criminal sydnicates to settle debts. Either way they get their money one way or another. And Zyran is the youngest son of Hisham and Zara. Much like his father, Zyran is a skilled archer with the silvertongue, two very specific traits he inherited from his father and mother respectively. He has five older siblings, all of whom have made a name for themselves as merchants and/or warriors. It is Zyran's turn. Both in a sense of obligation and desire to see the world, Zyran will travel to Atutania and become a Hero of the Glade and bring glory to his family. Compared to his siblings—three older brothers and two older sisters—Zyran could be considered the least terrible one. His morals tend to fall in the middle of unreasonably cruel (mainly to slaves and servants) to empathetic but unbearably vain and downright mocking of one's place in society. Zyran was raised a certain way and maybe that his desire to impress his father has clouded his empathy a bit. His way of being nice to people when he isn't being condescending is showing what they did wrong and making an effort to make them feel about it. After all, it's not their fault that they are too fast when wisdom chases them. Just a year ago, Zyran was training and training with his archery instructor. It was a long day and unbearably hot. The sun was high without so much of a cloud in sight and he was out in the desert. Zyran was tasked with finding a rare beast one that only a single arrow between the temple could kill. It would be the final test of Zyran's archery lessons. If he passed and returned to Atuunis, he would earn a spot right by his father in the family business. If not, he would be exiled. All of his siblings had a similar lesson and they all passed with flying colors. Zyran was at death's door and the beast, said to be the size of three bears and looked like a tiger fused with a lion. When Zyran encountered it, he was about to collapse but the beast had charged forward. He took his bow, aimed an arrow but was slow and found himself on his back. The beast was aiming to rip him apart and then an arc of gold lightning was shot from his left arm and he found himself on his feet. The lion-tiger beast was stunned and three arrows in a rapid-fire series of shots found itself between the beast's eyes. Zyran had passed his test and his father rewarded him. And a year later, he would travel to Atutania. All for the family and maybe to prove himself. To do something that none of his siblings had done. If he can do this, he'll have something over them. C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ Antagonistic ⬗ Charming ⬗ Glamourous ⬗ Snide ⬗ Supercilious ⬗ Vain A B I L I T I E S A B I L I T I E S ________________________________________________________________________________________ In terms of magic ability, Zyran might be considered still a novice. Having his elemental affinity awaken just last year, though he has been trying to hone his mastery over it (or just a simple comfort of using it). Through his practice and extreme training in the desert, he has managed to expand the storage of mana that would allow him four shots of lightning bolts. He has also found a theoretical way of shooting lightning-covered arrows with his bow, but this theory came to him the day before he set out for Atutania. He might test it out. Zyran is a skilled archer and among his family, is considered the best. And he certainly chooses to believe he's the best in the world. He excels at the rapid-shot and multi-target shot techniques. He can hit multiple targets with almost pinpoint accuracy as well as being a quick draw with his rapid shots. Combat aside, Zyran is considered an above average manipulator and merchant. He is able to talk people (most of the time) to do what he wants them to do. When he's trying to sell goods, that includes buying the product at the price he wants them to buy rather than what they might be able to afford. There's also getting people to do things for him. Generally he hates getting his hands dirty, so he likes to get others to do it. It doesn't always go according to plan but more often than not, he gets his way. God forbid anyone witnesses the bitch fit he throws and that is legendary on its own.

---

Wardens of the Glade: Interest Check

Looks like fun!

Regalia

Yeahh...sorry bout last time 😅 I had a lot going on during that time. This time I'll be good

Regalia

Final Fantasy inspired? Sign me the fuck up!

I'm currently leaning towards two character ideas.

One is a samurai-leaning type from that far off land of Tenshi who is seeking power to bring prosperity to his small village. A very journey to the west-inspired character. Full of honor and all that jazz. Likely someone that would ironically get the dark element.

The second is a fame-chaser, over the top (including mustache and all) aristocrat from a wealthy family. Eccentric billionaire, playboy, philanthropist (so fame is kinda high with this one as it is). Maybe going with Fire with this one. Think this one might be from Archadia or some very wealthy nation under Etro, indivisible and money/fame for all!

Pariah Online

Pendragon, The Reliable Knight

P E N D R A G O N
P E N D R A G O N

^{"In the face of evil, we all must stand tall."}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R D A T A C H A R A C T E R D A T A _________________________________________________________ True Self Arthur Walsh Persona Pendragon Pathos Thyrein Role Tank Weapon of Choice Sword + Shield Domains Wind, Light, Protection, Enhancement Playstyle & Attitude -A knight in every sense of the word and abides by an honor code -A roleplayer that stays in character almost every time. Basically ignores any questions about out-of-game life -No quest is too small for him. Will accept any party invite but especially from lower-leveled players to help out however he can. -Honorable as a knight. Pendragon is courteous, shows manners and never disrespects anyone. Always takes the high road. A true lawful good player. ♫

A R T H U R W A L S H: E V R Y D A Y N O R M A L G U Y A R T H U R W A L S H: E V R Y D A Y N O R M A L G U Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ Arthur Walsh is nobody special. He isn’t some enigma that people spend hours trying to figure out. He isn’t the center of attention at parties or family get-togethers. He’s not the guy you go to if you want to have a good time. Time spent with him wouldn’t be bad, but it wouldn’t be time well spent if you’re looking for a story to tell at the next office party. No, Arthur Walsh is just like any other guy in their mid-20s that works a 9-5. He’s smart but lacks the drive to achieve anything past what allows him to afford a comfortable life in a one-bedroom apartment. If you’re looking for a sob story about how Arthur was mistreated, you might be disappointed, which is not nothing new for Arthur. He’s been a walking disappointment to everyone in his life for just how unbearably average he is. He had above average grades in school which allowed him to go to a decent college and get a degree in business management, which allowed him a cubicle job at an accounting firm. His upbringing was an interesting spectacle. Where his parents were thriving in their fields, one of engineering and another of being a lawyer, as well as his siblings who all have exciting jobs, Arthur grew up feeling like the outcast from them. He felt this way because he never amounted to anything. He couldn’t play sports like his sister nor could he achieve literary achievements like his brother, both in whom are older than him. What he did find himself good at was with numbers. Not outstandingly so but good enough that he didn’t suffer in his math classes. He has a strained relationship with his family and only sees them during major holidays. So Arthur not only leads a very average life, but it’s a lonely one too. That’s why it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone why he turned to the internet. It started with a few online forums, but he really found a love and a calling in online roleplaying games. Whenever he wasn’t working, he was spending time online in those games where he didn’t have to be just average joe, Arthur Walsh. He could really be somebody that mattered. P E N D R A G O N: A K N I G H T ‘ S C O D E P E N D R A G O N: A K N I G H T ‘ S C O D E ________________________________________________________________________________________ And as Pendragon, he is someone. As Pendragon, he is someone people can depend on. Pendragon is a beacon of hope to those who cannot help themselves. Pendragon is a shining star in the sky that people only need to wish upon to bring him to their aid. Pendragon is a mighty knight whose values and morals align with the core aspect of his character of just wanting to help wherever help is needed. As you might’ve deduced, while he is not entirely creative for choosing the name Pendragon, this character is every bit the hero that the Arthur Pendragon of legend was. Pendragon is the character that he’s been using for various online identities but MMORPGs specifically. As Pendragon, he can be someone that isn’t looked at a wimp or simply brushed aside. Pendragon is charismatic and good. For years, he’s been using Pendragon as more than just a means to be seen as someone worth taking note of, but in all truthfulness, Pendragon is also a form of escapism for him. Arthur could shut off all of what made him weak and live through Pendragon as a strong, fierce, if not sometimes naive to the grand scheme of things, warrior. And in Pariah Online, it was no different. Pendragon would amass a reputation as both a solo and a player who could be seen as reliable in parties. It’s the knight’s code to always help those and set an example and though his “this seemed like a better idea in hindsight” habits might paint a different picture, Pendragon, when confronted with mistakes, owns up to it and always tries to do right by those whoever he is trying to protect and/or help out. No quest is too small so long as there are people to help. Monetary gain is secondary to him and helping out is most important. Perhaps that’s why he gets an above-average amount of party invites. Pendragon is somebody that people can count on and want around them. It better stay that way.

---

Spells & Spell-like Abilities

Guarding Wind - Wind + Protection - A mid-range protective ability that encases Pendragon and any allies within a spiraling protective wind barrier-like tornado. It guards them from most lower level damage but also acts as a minor offensive as it can simultaneously damage opponents who come in contact with it. It has a short timespan that is 100% dependent on just how much damage. Large scale attacks will likely dispel it but it will serve as a scapegoat and save the user/benefactor of it, but it can only work once before a recharge timer is placed on the one who cast it.

Divine Veil - Light + Protection - Pendragon conjures up a semi-transparent veil of light that can defend against most levels of damage. It works in two way: either Pendragon uses it for himself, in which case it is almost certain that it can withstand most levels of damage and only a matter of time before it gives way, or he can extend it to at least two other party members that will be protected from most moderate levels of damage and can act as a means to get from point a to point b before the veil timer runs out. In the case of the former, it can remain active for 60 seconds and in the case of the latter, 40 seconds.

Golden Might - Light - A light-based offensive ability that Pendragon has in his disposal. By concentrating his might into his sword, when he swings it or slashes it, arcs of light are sent forth and will hit any nearby enemy. It has a high hit ratio and only fails if the opponent is faster than his swings.

A Light Shines - Light + Enhancement - A self-enhancing ability that centers light magic within Pendragon's body and enhances base stats and gives him heightened strength, speed, defense, and endurance for a short amount of time. When the ability is used, a faint gold aura surrounds him and his eyes are a shinier golden color.

Heaven's Tornado - Light + Wind - A sort of ultimate, Pendragon concentrates a large amount of his magic into both sword and shield. His sword arm is extended away from his shield while his shield is held up. Wind gathers around him as light shines, a sort of continuing and extended visual of "A Light Shines". It produces a radiant tornado that is sent in a direct line of path in front of him. Being a sort of ultimate move, it will have the potential to deal great damage to anyone hit by it. The more they are in its direct path the larger the damage. Even those that manage to escape its immediate pathway might get hit with minor damage.

Character Feats

Hold the Line - Though a tank, Pendragon is not a significantly-offensive tank (though he is equipped for battle should he need to). A good amount of skill points, as well as the overall build was built around the premise of being able to protect others. To do that, he had to build up his defensive stats, which he has. Because of this, Pendragon’s strengths, ironically, lay within his ability to defend with a shield. And the way he fights has always been countering. He does have the sp to make first-round offensive measures, but it’s not in his nature as it would compromise the safety of those he might be trying to protect.

Ole Reliable - It’s what the locals and people he’s raided with call him. “Pendragon, the Ole Reliable Knight” is the name he received for not just how many raid parties he’s been apart of but the fact that he always came through for anyone that needed his help. He’s not a celebrity in any right (not like the stellar night), but he does what he can.

A Crafty Boy - Pendragon has invested some time in learning how to craft to the point that he can craft armor and weapons. SOmetimes for others but his main reason was to achieve a level so he could make the best sword, shield, and golden armor for himself so, if he was being honest, he could be a little flashy while helping out.

A Knight of the World - Pendragon is well traveled around the world of Aetheria. Through parties and general adventurer habits, Pendragon has been around to all the city-states at least once. He feels like he has a solid lay of the land and knowledge of where certain things are. Though, he has maintained a large presence in Toraenis and would even go as far as to call it his home.

♆ Divine Bloodlines: Immortal Bonds of Olympus ♆

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______________________________________	LOCATION — Hollywood, California INTERACTIONS — With each other TIME — One day before the start of camp

Damian Black has never liked the sun. He didn’t hate it, but he has never liked it. The sun was too bright and it was too hot, which was odd because he could control hell fire, but Damian enjoyed the wintery months he’d spent at Camp Half-Blood. He liked those Long Island snow days because it meant he could, by understandable expectations, stay in his room. There was something uniquely marvelous about having the backdrop of the whistling, icy wind as he composed whatever song or instrumental for a song he was. Or if he was taking on a request for someone else.

But to be in Beverly Hills, the day before he would be expected back at camp? This was not his preferred use of what little true free time would remain, but Damian had offered to fetch the Bubbles-made-Demigoddess so she didn’t miss out on the start of camp, because nobody should ever do that. It’s not like Damian intentionally offered so he could skip out on Chiron’s overly-drawn out monologues and speech to the newcomers.

He, of course, did. It was the only way he could get out of it with an understandable expectation of what everyone knew Damian to be like. He felt guilty for a couple of people, though. The first being Jai. It was sprung on the poor guy last minute. As in just a mere three hours ago. He had gotten the go ahead to use this fetching of Tiffannie to be made into an official quest, but he needed to make sure he had the paperwork. Jai was the one in charge of said paperwork, but that meant he had to wake up the Son of Deimos at 5am. It was still dark out, so Damian was already up, but he needed to get it scored away. He informed Jaidyn of the nature of the quest and he would be going solo. He would be back before tomorrow’s events came along.

After a rather dramatic process because Jai was Jai and how busy he was (again with understandable expectations of Jai’s exhaustion), he got the necessary paperwork done and Damian was out of camp within the hour.

The second person that brought regret to Damian’s mind was his sister. He didn’t give her nor his hounds much heads up that he was heading out on a quest. The bright side, of course, was how all three of his hounds (Onyx, Rebus, and Aemor) were more than familiar with Erin and got along with her own hounds so, it wouldn’t cause many issues.

And for the past five hours, as he clung to the shadows, thanks in majority to the cloak his Aunt Nyx gave, Damian was lurking through the overpopulated, luxurious metropolis of the famous and followed his target…well, not really ‘target’. The object of his quest.

Yeah, that sounded better.

He was following Tiffannie, using the cloak of the night to hide his presence but he rode on his bike that he could use to travel between Earth and the underworld, but because he could manipulate the shadows, he was simply hiding it from view. He also hid the sound the engine made so nobody would be alarmed of the unseen roar of an engine passing them by. It took an enormous amount of focus, but one that Damian possessed, having been motivated by Zeru so many times to achieve greater feats of strength. Much like that, he was dedicated to keeping himself hidden away from Tiffannie discovering his presence.

It was succeeding. He followed her everywhere she went. Whether it was to the hair stylist, her high school, a nice restaurant with her parents, or even to go get a pint of froyo with her friends. Anywhere she went, there were too many people. Way too many for Damian’s comfort, but more importantly and pertaining to the quest, he needed for them to be alone to talk. Plus, Tiffannie would doubtless explode in a wave of unnecessary excitement when she saw him. He had grown used to it, but if that were to happen, of which he was certain it would, it would be better to reveal himself to her when they were alone than in front of others.

As the day went on and the sun seemed less like something he wanted to blast out of the sky, Damian followed Tiffannie as she went home. He took in the neighborhood, seeing all of the houses that, per house, were the size of at least half of camp. Compared to the apartment he remembered spending half of his life in, Damian was, at the very least, disgusted by how greed made up this cursed town.

Damian parked his bike outside of Tiff’s home. The need to keep himself hidden was no longer paramount, so he would remove himself, as well as his cloak, which would retract into his necklace, and he’d summon five skeletons that each stood as tall as Damian did, to stand watch over his bike, but as well as Tiff’s jeep and home. They were protected from mortal vision because of the mist, but who knew who would be bold enough to attack Damian and Tiff. As Demigods, they faced threats every day.

Damian made quick work of scaling the two-story house that Tiffannie lived in. He deduced which room was hers by the sheer amount of pink in it. He mouthed, “I shouldn’t have expected anything else,” as blue eyes looked at it through the closed window. Damian had his jacket on, the black leather jacket that anyone who knew him would immediately recognize. He wrapped himself in shadows and clung to the one that her balcony cast until he watched Tiffannie come in. She closed her door and Damian watched her. She had always been so breathtakingly beautiful. A true goddess, demi or not. Seeing her brought him a peace that the Prince of the Underworld never knew existed. The feelings she made him experience were all brand new to him and he didn’t know how to make sense of them.

Yet, watching her made him feel calm.

And then he saw her having trouble with her dress.

Without missing a beat, he pushed the window open, unwrapped the shadows that hid him, and as he had one foot on the window seal, he said a slightly curved smirk, “I can help with that.”

On this perfect day
Nothing's standing in my way
On this perfect day
Where nothing can go wrong
It's the perfect day
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon
I could stay forever as I am
On this perfect day

On the lovely morning of the last day of May, the daughter of the Sun God completed her mortal schooling requirements by officially graduating high school and obtaining her diploma. The past thirteen years had been filled with many highs, its fair share of lows, and innumerable memories that she would undoubtedly cherish forever. She’d received loving, congratulatory messages from family and friends, including Vivian, Killian and even Apollo himself. Once the ceremony and celebratory events concluded, the next step would be to pack her bags and begin her new life as a full-time member of Camp Half-Blood.

But the day was only just beginning! Knowing that this would be her last day in California for a while, Tiffannie was determined to make the most of it. She had already eaten lunch with her family, treated herself to some fro-yo with her friends, and had plans to attend a graduation house party that another friend was hosting. Singing out loud to Hoku’s ‘Perfect Day’ and the bubblegum pop songs that followed, Tiff pranced around the room collecting the items she would need for the party and placing them inside a tote bag. Once that was done, she rummaged through many clothing items in her dresser drawers until she finally settled on the perfect outfit. It was only after she tried to undo the zipper of her dress that she realized this would be an impossible task without someone else's helping hand. Letting out a frustrated huff, the girl fought her hardest to reach the zipper in any way she could, until…

“I can help with that.”

With a loud, piercing shriek, the wide-eyed Tiffannie spun around, snatched a wooden handle hair brush from the vanity and flung it in the direction of the voice in an attempt to defend herself from the intruder. She wasn’t a fighter like a lot of her half-blooded peers, but she had to do something!

The hairbrush came in hot and fast like a fireball from Hecate herself (with the aim of a true Daughter of Hecate). Damian reacted almost on instinct, willing the shadows, a single tendril sprouting up from the edge of the window. It caught the brush, stopping all of its momentum. Damian made a note of the velocity that Tiffannie hurled it at him. Had it been anyone else, they’d be concussed. “And people say you don’t have a perfect aim like Vivian?” Damian chuckled, releasing the brush from the shadow as he held it in his hand, examining it curiously and smiling as he realized it, much like everything in Tiff’s room from the bed to her dresser to the Princess Peach figurines on her dresser, and the vanity mirror she was seated in front of, was as pink as cotton candy.

There was a moment of silence in which the blonde simply stood there, mouth slightly agape, staring at the man in front of her window. The shaggy blond hair, the piercing green eyes, the impossibly sharp jawline, the lanky frame dressed in shades of black with pops of silver accessories… All features that belonged to a very special someone that the Taccone girl held close to her heart: Damian Black.

With another loud shriek (this time from pure excitement), Tiffannie sprinted across the room with her arms outstretched and pulled Damian into a warm, tight hug as soon as he was within her grasp. At first glance, you wouldn't even imagine that the physical embodiment of Pink Sugar Princess would have anything in common with the Prince of Darkness. But in reality, out of all the people Tiff had missed the most, the son of Hades was certainly at the top of the list along with her siblings. The two demigods had bonded after the blonde volunteered her pet sitting services around camp and won the trust and affection of Damian's hounds in record time. The man's reasoning was that if his highly protective pets had given them their trust so quickly, then she must be quite extraordinary. Their initial conversations were very casual, with Tiff doing most of the talking. But the longer they interacted with one another, the more Damian opened up to the girl. By the time she had left camp the last time, the son of Hades and the daughter of Apollo had been nearly inseparable, and sparks of a budding romance were flying around them. Having to be away from one of her best friends (and crush) had been hard, but knowing she would see him again kept the nostalgic feelings at bay.

And now here he was! Yay!

“I missed you!” Tiffannie exclaimed, pulling away from the man just enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. S , leaving a glossy, sparkly pink imprint behind. “I haven’t seen you in forever, D! How have you been?!”

There was something weirdly comforting about Tiffannie’s brand of excitement. To others, their ears would be bleeding from hearing the pink-obsessed blonde’s voice go to levels that shouldn’t be humanly achievable, but they weren’t necessarily human, now were they? Her voice was mesmerizing. Even when out of pitch, it was like a siren singing. The chaotic harmony that blessed his ears. Almost as fitting as it was when she embraced him and kissed him on his cheek.

Damian had to admit that made his heart beatbeatbeat. And beat some more. His feelings that he's been fighting and fighting and fighting for the chipper blonde has been something he’s been trying to make sense of. In the past few months, especially since he and Alina ended their benefitship, Tiff had been on his mind. And seeing her now only reaffirmed his struggles.

“Been alright. Can’t say the same for my ears,” he teased. Damian didn’t bother to wipe away the evidence of her kiss. Sometimes you just had to take pride in the unique reactions very unique friends had for you.

Tiffannie’s cheeks turned pink. She often forgot that her enthusiastic demeanor could sometimes be a little too much for other people, and that demigods’ hearing was more sensitive than regular folks. “Sorry!” she replied sheepishly, pulling away from Damian and offering an apologetic smile. “I'm just so excited to see you! I have so many stories to tell you! Life has just been really awe--” Tiff abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence, a frown settling in between her eyebrows. “Wait a minute… What are you doing here in LA?” she asked Damian, now visibly confused.

Damian had long accepted Tiffannie’s flaws as something that made her who she was. Who was he to judge when he had his own that made so many people wary of him and even flat out avoided his company due to his antisocial tendencies? Tiffannie was the exact opposite of this, of course. She was too forward for some. Her voice, at times, was like someone blowing a whistle in your ear or raking sharp claws on rusty metal or an old blackboard. But then there were moments that she surprised and impressed him with how compassionate she could be. She had something about the way her kindness was authentic and genuine, something that Damian had thought was lost in this world. He didn’t experience it from his father so he never thought to spot it, but Tiffannie showed him that it existed.

Between her and Erin, his view of life became less black and white and more 50 shades of gray and silver.

After a moment, Damian said, “I noticed you were having troubles with the dress. I meant what I said. I can assist with that.” The son of Hades remarked with his typical tone that liked to tease. But seeing the way she looked at him in that all-too-familiar deer having been caught in headlights, he added. “I’m also here to fetch you for the summer, but first the dress.”

Tiffannie grew even more curious and confused with Damian’s answer. “They gave you permission to leave camp to come all the way to California to get me?” she asked him, draping her blonde locks forward over her right shoulder in one swipe and turning her back towards the young man. As far as the girl knew, permission for campers to leave the premises was only given in cases of family emergencies or quests, and this didn’t qualify as either of those. How had her friend managed to get all the way here to get her, then?

Damian fell quiet as he focused on helping with the dress that the chipper blonde was struggling with. In the middle of it, he said, “I got special permission from Jai to treat this as a quest,” he explained, though this being a quest quest was a stretch. “I assured him I--” he stopped himself, realizing the implication of it, “I mean we would be back before the official start of summer began. As long as we beat that, I’m sure Chiron nor Mr. D will punish us…or me, too bad.” When he succeeded, he tapped her shoulder, resting it on her smooth skin. Damian lost his train of thought and got lost in the moment for a second. “And done.” He had snapped himself out of it, but he wondered if Tiff noticed?

Having the god Apollo’s blood coursing through your veins came with a lot of perks, enhanced hearing being one of them. With every step he took towards her, Tiffannie could hear Damian’s heartbeat suddenly racing inside his chest, making her curious as to the reason why. A more important question arose when she remembered that Damian also had enhanced hearing, and could probably tell that her own heart had started thumping hard against her chest. She tried to play it off as best as she could, and felt that her plan had worked… Up until she felt the warm touch of his soft hand on her shoulder. The heartbeat that she had painstakingly gotten under control went off in a frenzy again, and a shiver ran down her body from the point of contact. Instinctively, Tiffannie reached out her own hand towards Damian’s. And after interlocking her fingers with his, the girl felt that same spark she always did whenever they exchanged moments of affection. In moments like these, she always wondered: did Damian feel it too?

At that moment, Damian wondered the same thing. Is she hearing what I’m hearing?

There wasn’t much time to dwell on that question before Damian softly pulled his hand away. “Um… Thank you…” the blonde murmured, hastily turning away before her guest could realize she was blushing. The last thing she needed was for D to put two and two together and get some inkling of the way she truly felt about him. She grabbed what looked like a handful of clothes from the corner of her bed and disappeared inside the walk-in closet, leaving the door cracked just enough to allow the conversation between the two friends to continue.

“I was supposed to go to a pool party and meet up there with my friends, but since you’ve never been to California, how about we skip it and I show you around town instead?” she called out from the other room, emerging a short time later in a pair of low-rise shorts that showed off the matching bottom of the pink bikini she was wearing. She paused for a moment in front of Damian with a small smile, twirled in place to proudly display her outfit of choice before prancing to her vanity to pick out a pair of shades.

There was a moment before she came out that the Son of Hades, much to his nature, looked around the room. He stood mostly in place but he took in the details of Tiffannie’s room. The myriad of pink and peach colored knick knacks like the collection of Princess Peach figurines on her dresser, the pink palette bedding, the complimenting wallpaper, and how everything in her room looked like it came straight out of Barbie’s or Princess Peach’s personal penthouse. He smiled at that. Damian admired that about her. How she would be unapologetically herself despite how others might perceive it.

“Uh, if that’s what you want. I wouldn’t mind seeing your friends too,” Damian said, remembering that he was on her side of the world. Manners maketh man was something Erebus always told him and he tried to remember that. He was a visitor in her domain. “Whatever you want…” The words coming out of his mouth came to a slow, gradual halt when she came out. It was simple. A pink top and jeans. Damian’s heart started to beat fast again. He was typically a great wall of obsidian, but the pink flames that Tiffannie represented melted that wall every time. “I’ve been told I'm not supposed to look at the sun directly, but when it looks as beautiful as you do right now, how could I?” Damian spoke faster than his brain could stop him but when someone so breathtaking presents herself for you, one must always speak the truth no matter the consequences.

If Damian already thought she looked radiant, it was nothing compared to the blinding, beaming smile the blonde gave him when she heard his words. Her friend had given her compliments and kind words before, but this was the first time he had been so blunt about it. The warm, fuzzy feeling he gave her whenever they were together seemed to have multiplied tenfold, and she couldn't stop herself from squealing her thanks, kissing his cheek again and giving him a quick hug.

“Party it is!” Tiffannie declared brightly, sliding her feet into sparkly pink sandals before grabbing her packed tote bag and skipping her way to the bedroom door. “You're going to have so much fun, D! There's gonna be music, beer pong, so many snacks… My friends are really awesome, too! It's going to be grea--” She swung the door open and was about to head out when a thought suddenly stopped both her body and her sentence in its tracks. “Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you're going to need a different outfit…” she commented, taking a hard look at the man's wardrobe choice. He looked as amazing as always of course but-- “It's a pool party, not a Hells Angels biker convention.”

“What? You don’t think I’ll start a new trend?” Damian with the full confidence that only he could pull off looked down at the classic biker attire he fancied. He smiled and, as he was mirroring what Tiffannie had done for him just a few moments ago, did a full 360º turn. The sound of the heavy leather of his jacket swished slightly against the metal of his studded belt, his blond hair flowed in the air.

The blonde giggled and shook her head. “I would just prefer that you not get heat stroke wearing all that leather,” she said earnestly, walking back to Damian to grab his hand and tug at it gently. “Now come on! Let's get going! The party's going to start soon, and we have to stop to get you an outfit!”

And before he could say anything else, Damian found herself being dragged out of the room, with a very excited Tiffannie leading the way.