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[Team R0ck3t] Love and Loss


Dave ST

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Love and Loss

In From The Cold

Physical - / Mental - / Social ●

Prudence Island, Rhode Island (look it up)

Ophelia Harper's Home for Wayward Children

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So, here you are. Ophelia Harper's Home for Wayward Children. Not a bad place, all things considered although you just wish you were here to rescue them all. Unfortunately, you're not. You're here for four of them. Within the walls of that old, massive mansion on the bluff are four young Scions whose parents can not perform the visitation because their presence would call the attention of too many titanspawn. You know who they are... but can you get them out and safely away before the titanspawn converge on the Home and tear it, and you apart!? Dun, dun, dun!

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The ferry ride over wasn't too bad, thankfully Corbin's truck never needs gas so there was little down time during your drive all the way across the country. The cab dropped you off in the pouring rain. Thunder and lightning course though the sky as the four of you stand there gawking at the massive colonial mansion in the distance. The wrought iron gate is closed and the way it hovers there in the background right on the bluff behind it makes the whole place creepy as hell. You can see why the Gods don't wanna come here, it's right out of a Scooby-Doo episode.

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So, there you sit, out in the cold as the wind and rain pelt against you while a storm rages above. The plan The Council had was simple enough, pose as wayward children and get inside, then take the children away in the night... but since when is The Council out here doing the real work. The cameras set atop the large brick posts the secure the security gate have already swerved and noticed your presence. Atop the hill a door opens and the yellow light of the houses warmth can be seen beyond it.

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You have some time before they greet you at the gate.

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You are looking for:

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Brianna Rhodes. She is a short and willowy young lady about eleven or so with smooth features, medium, red hair, and dark brown eyes.

Steven Chadwick. He is very tall and slim with pinched features, long, black hair, and pale blue eyes. He is nine, but he's as tall as a fourteen year old.

Julia Lyons. She is an average ten year old with soft features, long, wavy, brown hair, and blue green eyes.

Arthur Cruz. He is short and pudgy with weak features, medium, straight, dark red hair, and blue eyes. He's the oldest, at thirteen.

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Good luck!

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The skinny, dour-faced boy at the back of the quartet pulled the hood of his cloak more firmly over his head and repressed a sigh as he watched the path beyond the gates for their welcoming committee. Spending time sandwiched between Taya, who was trying to keep as far from Corbin as physically possible, and Jake, who had found the trip just as awkward as Grim, was not a situation calculated to put the taciturn son of Odin in the best of moods. He'd also left Strabo behind, which made him even more ill-at-ease, but that had been a practical decision. Strabo was as loyal a friend as could be hoped for, but not suitable for this excursion. Indeed, considering the heavy rain and lightning, the great hawk would have been grounded and vulnerable, and so in that at least Grim took comfort he'd made the right choice.

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Apart from that, and the fact that they had been given a Quest, everything else sucked.

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Grim knew that four had a better chance than one. He knew that the mixture of knowledge and skill in this Band would be invaluable for accomplishing their shared goal. He knew that the Council had their reasons for teaming the four disparate youths together.

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He also thought that the Council were idiots, so that knowledge didn't help much.

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The problem was that Taya and Corbin had an atmosphere between them that had infected the truck for the whole journey. Grim would have ridden in the flatbed part if he'd had a choice, just to get away from the definite Atmosphere, but sense had won out and so he'd spent the ride next to Taya, which was annoyingly distracting. Every time she shifted position, he'd been aware of the brush of her movement against him. She was pretty, and though Grim tried to have ice in his veins and run on intellect, Taya's profile as she stared out of the window with a moody pout to her lips was worth a second look or two. It made him irritated with himself: they were supposed to be heroes of the gods, and here he was acting like... like an adolescent boy.

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Heavens forbid!

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To distract himself from something that would only get him into trouble in the long run (or perhaps even sooner), Grim had spent the trip mostly within his own head, staring unseeing out of the window whilst lost in thought. Occasionally he had roused himself to join a conversation that momentarily interested him, but his mien for the most part was one of remote politeness. At least, until they had arrived. Now he looked around at his companions, for that was what they were, despite feelings and appearances.

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"They will likely split us up by apparent age and gender for sleeping assignments." he presumed. "But we can't afford to stay the night. It'd be far too dangerous. To make things easier, we should each take one name from the four and focus on finding that one, rather than working at cross-purposes. Given the time-scale, we've got until lights-out as the best time to actually make contact, then afterwards we can slip away." His eyes, one steel-grey and the other verdant green, regarded the others in the Band. "Thoughts?"

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Tintaya was feeling very left out. It was a normal, pouty teenage emotion, even if she didn’t see it as such. She was angry because everyone else was excited about going on the quest, and all she could think was that she’d rather be back at Six Rivers. Quests were supposed to be a big deal and they interested her about as much as lint. Corbin’s excitement only made her more certain she didn’t want to be here. Of course, she really didn’t want to be at the camp either; she wanted to be home in the mountains.

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At least she hadn’t had to sit next to Corbin. Jake had seemed too happy to sit next to her, so she’d opted to sit next to Grim, who seemed to share her disdain for the entire affair. There wasn’t really room in the truck for four; when she’d put her arm across the back of the seat it had been far too much like hugging Grim, and her hand had brushed Corbin’s hand when he did the same thing, so that was the end of that.

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Leaving the herd behind had been rough, too. Her companions were in John’s care; given his hesitation around the alpaca, that promised some hilarity later. But in the moment, she was just fretting over her animals. She resolved to get through this mess and get things settled as soon as possible so they could go back.

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She considered the building for a moment, listening to Grim. “Two of the ones we are looking for are girls. It would easier for me to make contact with them, unless one of you is good at sneaking into the girl’s rooms. Though,” she added with a glare at Corbin, “perhaps we should keep some of you away from girls. You seem to have a lack of talent in speaking to them. Corbin would probably convince the young woman to upend a bowl of soup over him or something.”

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"Taya, I can't even convince you to let. It. Go. I think an eleven year old will be safe." He was calm but there was that frustrating air of superiority about him that rankled her feathers even more. "I'll look for the Rhodes girl, that sounds Greek. You looking for one of the girls is the best idea, we all know how hard it is for you to keep your pants on around guys you've just met." The casual 'fuck you' snicker on his expression was like a punch to the gut.

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It was official: these two needed to hook up or just battle royal to get it all out of their system. The trip was awkward enough but with these two constantly pushing the others buttons, while certainly entertaining at times, was already getting old. Just ask Grim and Jake, they'd been sitting in the middle of it for three days and sixteen hundred miles. Even Orpheus, the ghost that inhabited Corbin's truck, had heard enough a few times and used he radio to quiet their contests of one upmanship. Rare of a sight as it was, Grim managed to hide a smile of amusement when outside Cincinnati Orpheus blared Hank William's 'Why Don't You Love Me' far louder than his sound system should have been capable of. It was on every station, and the radio wouldn't shut of until the song was over... the looks people gave them was worth it.

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He gave Jake a pat a back. "Jake, how ya holdin' up buddy? You okay?"

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Being one of the new guys at the camp did have more than its fair share of awkwardness as far as Jake was concerned - and being given a Quest, especially one of rescuing other Scions fit in with the more positive elements that Jake fantasized about his new life as a Scion. But everything else had then proceeded to go sour the mood, leading Jake to start to wonder whether Fate - the metaphysical, seemingly active, meddling, intelligent force that everyone made it out to be, was indeed that way and setting up for a blockbuster summer extravaganza.

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Step One. Group him with Corbin, Grim and Tintaya, who overall were ultimately reasonable enough people - even Grim - but he had already come to realize that this bunch of children of the Gods together constituted the offspring of a powder-keg and a Molotov cocktail. Step Two. Put them all together in a three-day, cross-country ride in a truck that couldn't really accommodate all of them. Add in tension between Taya and Corbin in said truck containing a quantity of passengers in apparent defiance of spatial physics.

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Step Three. The orphanage in question was located in a mansion that clearly been plucked off the DIY horror movie catalog cover offer. Step Four. Nasty storm rolls in. Now roll the cameras. Jake suppressed his sigh as Corbin patted his back.

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"I'm fine," he assured the son of Hades, hoisting his bulky hockey bag. "Though I feel obligated to point out that names and looks don't equal pantheon, as you should all know by now." Under the circumstances and the expectations of combat drilled into his head by Thrud, Corbin, and Masamune, Jake had been conditioned enough to bring his relic macquahuitl along, but Hungry Eagle would have impossibly stood out - unlike the rest of his relics.

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So in the best possible attempt at sneaking it in, Jake had stashed Hungry Eagle in on some light blanket padding in his hockey bag, which he intended to pass off as holding only clothing and a couple books. Given that they didn't plan to stay the night, it was a reasonable gamble Jake could keep anyone from looking - unless the Titanspawn attacked, in which case there were more serious issues to deal with than secrecy.

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"But Taya also would have an easier time reaching the girls anyway, but if both of you want to go at it," Jake couldn't help throwing in a reference to Corbin and Taya's tension, "be our guests. I'll get Steven Chadwick. You don't mind getting Arthur, Grim?"

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"Would it matter if I did?" Grim asked with his usual sour, sarcastic tone. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Never mind." he told Jake almost apologetically. "That wasn't a pertinent question."

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"Hey, if you wanna-" Jake began, and Grim shook his head, smiling slightly as he raised one thin, scarred hand to stop Jake.

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"No, no. Arthur Cruz it is. I was being petty." He leaned on his staff, currently contained in a fishing-pole carry case, and watched the gates warily. "It's a decent plan. Let's use it. If it fails, then we improvise." He shrugged. "After all, the best laid plans, and all that."

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"Don't survive contact with the enemy?" Corbin asked a trifle tensely. Grim glanced at him, then shrugged again.

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"Close enough."

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Tintaya leaned over to dig in her bag for a moment, drawing the edge of her dress up a few inches. Three sets of young male eyes slipped to her legs without any conscious thought to look at the bared skin before they found reasons to turn those eyes elsewhere. They were all safely focused somewhere else by the time she straightened up with her shoulder bag in her hand and her hoodie in the other. She’d refused to be parted from the bag, even if it only went into the back. It had to ride under the seat, where she could check on it from time to time.

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Taya felt for the round lump in the bag that was the Skull. She’d just moved it from the hoodie she’d packed around it to the flannel pants to protect it, but she was paranoid. Satisfied that her precious artifact was still safe, the young woman slung the woven bag over her shoulder. The long bag held a surprising amount of stuff, most of it clothing, with the skull wrapped protectively in a sweater in the center of the mass. The hoodie went on over it for more protection from the rain.

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When she turned to face them again, a subtle change had come over her. Instead of her vaguely annoyed expression, she appeared more fragile, as if the anger was a brittle mask ready to crack. Suddenly she seemed like a teenager who had been pushed around and hurt until she couldn’t believe that anyone cared anymore. Her large brown eyes were wary and flicked around, uneasy and doe-like, as if seeing danger all around. It generated a sudden desire to help her, to fight whatever was putting that barely-hidden damaged look in her eyes and destroy it.

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It was a damn good act.

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Tintaya pulled her hoodie closer around her face as a shield and crossed her arms across her torso. Shivering slightly as the cold started to creep in, she waited in silence for the gate to open.

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A tall, athletic black man and his smaller framed but no less athletic partner met them at the gate. The rain pummeled their yellow rain coats as they stood for a moment before finally asking your business. Out of politeness, or a need to not stand in the damn rain all night, they instead decided to just hash it out up at the house, allowing you time to at least dry off. Their looks were, of course, suspicious and they kept looking behind them once in awhile on the long road up to the house. I mean, seriously... who makes their front yard so huge you have to take a train just to go collect the mail!

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Anyway. The house itself was gorgeous, aside from the rustic worn down look to it it was huge. If any of you could decide on a home to retire to one day, this would probably have made the list on the top five. The entrance hall was huge, like a ball room in and of itself with two staircases along the left and right walls to a massive balcony that over looked the entrance (I think you know what I mean). Oh, but then came the... Glade Plug-Ins? Seriously, there was so much air freshener in the air that all the different 'flavors' mingled into a weird scent of strange herbs and exotic spice concoctions. The lights were low and everything was dimly lit in a sickly yellow hue, not unnerving but it did add a certain creep factor to the whole place. There was a lot of dust on everything, from the mirrors to the tops of various cabinets and the door frames. Wallpaper that looked like it'd been here since Rhode Island was founded (which would have been in 1636, by the way. Thank Corbin and Grim for being Know-It-Alls) was peeling in a lot of the places.

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The kitchen was spacious and the four sat around the central island on bar stools while the two athletic men offered them towels. A older man in an outfit that could only be described as 'butlerish', prepared them a meal of tuna fish sandwiches and potato chips (crust removed upon request). There was an awkward silence, as if no one really knew what to say, but aside from that the greeting was a very hospitable and polite.

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"Are these the little darlings!" A woman, who could only be described as Cruella De'Villle. She was tall for the average woman at about five-nine, her hair was wrapped into two buns all Princess Leia-style and while she was not incredibly old and wrinkly, she looked like she'd had a bit too much surgery during her younger years. She wasn't too bad, but she was old and old people can sometimes be creepy. She was in a thick wool robe and pink slippers. "Oh, you precious little darlings, I was told there some poor, unfortunate souls, in need. This weather is absolutely dreadful! Come, come... tell Auntie Harper what brings you to my home at this late hour."

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She clapped her hands and the butlerish dude stood straight up. "Hemsworth! Please get these children some milk to go with their sandwiches!"

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The towel was welcome and Tintaya applied it to her hair eagerly. She drew some more eyes as she craned her head to squeeze the hair dry, baring her neck and accidently flashing her bra strap. The food was less welcome; Taya wasn’t fond of the American habit of smearing mayonnaise of perfectly good meat. Still, a kid down on her luck would devour the food regardless of what it was, so she wolfed it down. The chips she ate more slowly.

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Tintaya blinked at the sight of their host, mostly because she was dressed in night clothes instead of getting dressed to greet them. She started to trade concerned glances with one of her fellow scions before remember they were all assholes who would only laugh at her worries.

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“Well… Auntie Harper, I don’t have no where to go.” Tintaya was still carrying herself with that fragile wariness, as if expecting attack at any moment. “My family’s gone. I need a place to stay. People in town said you’d let me. That okay?” The girl was throwing out a bit of attitude, but she made sure it was a clear act: the scared little girl puffing herself up big so that she could appear tough.

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"We came over on the ferry together." Grim said, hunkering down inside his soaked clothing and doing his level best to appear pathetic. Given that even at his best Grim looked like a half-starved and neglected latchkey kid, it was hard even for his companions not to pity him. He coughed a little as he hoovered up the sandwiches, then stared at the other's plates like a starving waif. The man called Hemsworth quickly prepared a second round of tuna-mayo at Harper's gesture. "Thank you for taking us in. We... We had nowhere else to go."

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The pain and grief and shame was there, albeit in a different form. The sense of being abandoned, the sense of being unwanted, the lack of love - all of them came through in Grim's voice. He knew what it felt like to be an orphan in all but name, to be raised in a place where, fantastic as it was, there was no place else to go simply because of what he was. A few tears easily found their way to the thin, pale features as he looked at Auntie Harper, but the agile mind behind the mismatched eyes was working away, trying to spot the tricks and glamer of a trap.

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"You poor little mite!" Auntie Harper exclaimed. "You look half-dead! And those scars!" She hissed in disapproval as she saw the criss-crossing white marks on Grim's arms. "Who did that to you, child?"

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"N-n-no-one." Grim insisted, looking shamefaced. "I was trying to catch a rabbit to eat."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Well, whatever element of Fate was assigned to Casting had the job well in hand. Step Five, Cruella DeVille somehow appearing as the lady of the house and the caretaker of the orphanage. For his part, Jake was silent, but simply nodding agreement with Tintaya and Grim, letting his face merely reflect the pain and loss still there from the still quite recent attack from the fire giants.

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Something else tweaked his mind. Auntie Harper seemed awfully eerie in her patronizingly, 'you poor thing' caring manner. Much like how the paternalist industrialists of the Gilded Age acted. Take care of your every wish or need, but remove your ability to make choices in the process, to help the lost dears.

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Jake found it concerning plausible to think she would do just that, and so kept his awareness up too, though his sandwich was well crammed into his mouth.

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