If Nothing Else — Remember Me

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

“Gods, are you okay?” Monroe rushed over, trying to support him as he moved towards the couch.

It had been a while since they’d seen someone collapse like that, but it didn’t seem to line up with his wounds. Maybe the shadow travel? They weren’t sure. What he said after made them more sceptical. Was he referring to the house, or his body? They’d never sensed the house could be sentient, but there was always a chance. Still, they got the feeling it was the latter rather than the former.

Gods, I really had to get attacked when I was already in a flare up, huh? Of course I did, Tyche fucking hates me. Well maybe not personally but it sure feels like it. I can’t be arsed with this, why isn’t the ambrosia working yet? Ugh.

He pulled out a slightly crushed cereal bar and a clean sweater, removing the blood stained one with a wince as the material pulled away from his skin.

"Eh... 'm originally from Scotland, but I've not been there since I was... maybe eight?" he shoved the dirty jumper into his bag and thew on the other, curling up a bit as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and took a small bite of food.

“We should clean those,” they gestured at his side. “I can help ya with it,” Monroe held out the supplies. “But no pressure, man.” They added, not wanting to make the other demigod any more uncomfortable than he already looked. They sure as hades wouldn’t want a stranger patching them up, especially if they weren’t in a good position to fight.

“Oh, I’m Canadian.” They didn’t really see much point in lying now, they’d already taken Finn to their hideout for the time being and he didn’t seem the type to be up to date on Canadian missing persons cases. “Been back and forth between home and the USA for most of my life, but I’ve been kinda stuck here for nearly the past year.”

It wasn’t quite the truth, but they didn’t know enough about the other demigod to know how full-disclosure of their past would be taken. Admittedly, there was no such thing as a good response to it — the best case scenario was just regret masked as neutrality.

"I've been to Canada a few times, not lived there though" he said after eating a couple more mouthfuls and putting the wrapper in his pocket.

Yeah more like majorly fucked up with my sense of direction and ended up crashing in the woods there for multiple days he thought, deciding against saying that part aloud

Now that they had a closer look at the boy, he looked almost familiar — like a substitute teacher they’d had one too many times; not quite an acquaintance but someone they’d seen around more than once. It wouldn’t have been too uncommon, but they didn’t think he’d been at camp when they had, and they surely would have recognized him if they’d met later? Maybe it was best not to bring it up, for safety’s sake.

“East coast, west coast, or prairies?” Monroe asked. Any excuse to talk about home was nice, it’d been far too long — they missed it.

Could take him with us, their mind supplied as they paused for a moment to grab another roll of gauze. Fuck no, terrible idea, the rest of them screamed. They had places to be, people to meet, it was bad enough they were letting this guy into their house. But —

Clumsy, not a great trait for a demigod...

"Prairies I think? I can't remember it very well. Whereabouts are you from?" he fidgeted with his sleeves, he couldn't tell if he was imagining things or not but this person seemed like someone Finn had met before, he couldn't quite place where though... the titans a–

They unrolled a long strip of gauze, cutting it with the edge of their sword propped against the couch. “West Coast for the most part,” they answered, wrapping the gauze around the wounds as best they could. “Spent some time in Ontario though, when I was younger.”

Monroe stood up quickly after finishing with the bandages. Finn had started to fidget, and so they’d finished up as quickly as possible — hoping to not make him any more uncomfortable. He seems nervous? They couldn’t reason why.

“I mean, yeah,” they answered — maybe that had been why he looked nervous? They’d be awkward as well in his place. “I wouldn’t have asked you if not, probably’d be safer with two demigods instead of one.”

"Huh, cool. I can't– er, remember where I was but the scenery was quite nice. The people too. Well, nicer than a lot of the folk from some other places I've visited." he said as Monroe finished up, readjusting his jumper.

Monroe still couldn’t shake the feeling of deja-vu. “You said you found out a few years back, about being a demigod and all. Were you claimed then too?”

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

“Gods, are you okay?” Monroe rushed over, trying to support him as he moved towards the couch.

It had been a while since they’d seen someone collapse like that, but it didn’t seem to line up with his wounds. Maybe the shadow travel? They weren’t sure. What he said after made them more sceptical. Was he referring to the house, or his body? They’d never sensed the house could be sentient, but there was always a chance. Still, they got the feeling it was the latter rather than the former.

Gods, I really had to get attacked when I was already in a flare up, huh? Of course I did, Tyche fucking hates me. Well maybe not personally but it sure feels like it. I can’t be arsed with this, why isn’t the ambrosia working yet? Ugh.

He pulled out a slightly crushed cereal bar and a clean sweater, removing the blood stained one with a wince as the material pulled away from his skin.

"Eh... 'm originally from Scotland, but I've not been there since I was... maybe eight?" he shoved the dirty jumper into his bag and thew on the other, curling up a bit as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and took a small bite of food.

“We should clean those,” they gestured at his side. “I can help ya with it,” Monroe held out the supplies. “But no pressure, man.” They added, not wanting to make the other demigod any more uncomfortable than he already looked. They sure as hades wouldn’t want a stranger patching them up, especially if they weren’t in a good position to fight.

“Oh, I’m Canadian.” They didn’t really see much point in lying now, they’d already taken Finn to their hideout for the time being and he didn’t seem the type to be up to date on Canadian missing persons cases. “Been back and forth between home and the USA for most of my life, but I’ve been kinda stuck here for nearly the past year.”

It wasn’t quite the truth, but they didn’t know enough about the other demigod to know how full-disclosure of their past would be taken. Admittedly, there was no such thing as a good response to it — the best case scenario was just regret masked as neutrality.

"I've been to Canada a few times, not lived there though" he said after eating a couple more mouthfuls and putting the wrapper in his pocket.

Yeah more like majorly fucked up with my sense of direction and ended up crashing in the woods there for multiple days he thought, deciding against saying that part aloud

Now that they had a closer look at the boy, he looked almost familiar — like a substitute teacher they’d had one too many times; not quite an acquaintance but someone they’d seen around more than once. It wouldn’t have been too uncommon, but they didn’t think he’d been at camp when they had, and they surely would have recognized him if they’d met later? Maybe it was best not to bring it up, for safety’s sake.

“East coast, west coast, or prairies?” Monroe asked. Any excuse to talk about home was nice, it’d been far too long — they missed it.

Could take him with us, their mind supplied as they paused for a moment to grab another roll of gauze. Fuck no, terrible idea, the rest of them screamed. They had places to be, people to meet, it was bad enough they were letting this guy into their house. But —

Clumsy, not a great trait for a demigod...

"Prairies I think? I can't remember it very well. Whereabouts are you from?" he fidgeted with his sleeves, he couldn't tell if he was imagining things or not but this person seemed like someone Finn had met before, he couldn't quite place where though... the titans a–

They unrolled a long strip of gauze, cutting it with the edge of their sword propped against the couch. “West Coast for the most part,” they answered, wrapping the gauze around the wounds as best they could. “Spent some time in Ontario though, when I was younger.”

Monroe stood up quickly after finishing with the bandages. Finn had started to fidget, and so they’d finished up as quickly as possible — hoping to not make him any more uncomfortable. He seems nervous? They couldn’t reason why.

“I mean, yeah,” they answered — maybe that had been why he looked nervous? They’d be awkward as well in his place. “I wouldn’t have asked you if not, probably’d be safer with two demigods instead of one.”

Set before the Battle of Manhattan, small TW for suicidal behaviour (no actual suicide), set on the Princess andromeda but anyone can join

It was funny how fast the world seemed to go by. Monroe’s head was pounding, the song blasting through their old earbuds seeming just a beat too fast. Everything seemed to be happening too fast nowadays. The air aboard the Princess Andromeda was cold, they’d passed into Canadian waters sometime in the prior day — the chill of the Maritimes amplified in the starless night.

Monroe wondered how far from shore they were. A jump from this height wouldn’t kill them, though hitting the cold water would certainly hurt — they’d never been easy to sink even with all the extra muscle they’d built in the prior years. Quietly, they swung both legs over the railing — facing out towards what they could only hope was the shore of Newfoundland and Labrador.

Maybe they’d make it home. Home to their mother and father, home to their sibling and their cats and their grandmother. What would she say? The old dryad had always resented the fact they’d become involved in the demigod world, maybe she’d be happy they’d left it behind or maybe she’d cast them from the house for endangering the family.

Maybe they’d drown, it would be easier.

“Home,” they answered, the cold starting to seep through their linen shirt, filling their lungs.

“How far away we are from land,” they gestured down at the dark ocean. It didn’t smell like home, all rough bull kelp and salmon fog, it was darker; like iron and salt. “Wondering how cold the water must be.”

They notice the girl’s hands, white as anything. They’d have thought she had raynauds had it not been for the grey tinge of her fingers. A child of Khione. They’d heard rumour the goddess lived in Quebec, though they’d never understood why she’d chosen it over Nunavut.

Through a gap in the clouds, they could see a planet glowing a soft red. Something about the dark and the cold had their blood screaming, their muscles itching to move, to kick their legs and run.

Set before the Battle of Manhattan, small TW for suicidal behaviour (no actual suicide), set on the Princess andromeda but anyone can join

It was funny how fast the world seemed to go by. Monroe’s head was pounding, the song blasting through their old earbuds seeming just a beat too fast. Everything seemed to be happening too fast nowadays. The air aboard the Princess Andromeda was cold, they’d passed into Canadian waters sometime in the prior day — the chill of the Maritimes amplified in the starless night.

Monroe wondered how far from shore they were. A jump from this height wouldn’t kill them, though hitting the cold water would certainly hurt — they’d never been easy to sink even with all the extra muscle they’d built in the prior years. Quietly, they swung both legs over the railing — facing out towards what they could only hope was the shore of Newfoundland and Labrador.

Maybe they’d make it home. Home to their mother and father, home to their sibling and their cats and their grandmother. What would she say? The old dryad had always resented the fact they’d become involved in the demigod world, maybe she’d be happy they’d left it behind or maybe she’d cast them from the house for endangering the family.

Maybe they’d drown, it would be easier.

“Home,” they answered, the cold starting to seep through their linen shirt, filling their lungs.

“How far away we are from land,” they gestured down at the dark ocean. It didn’t smell like home, all rough bull kelp and salmon fog, it was darker; like iron and salt. “Wondering how cold the water must be.”

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

“Gods, are you okay?” Monroe rushed over, trying to support him as he moved towards the couch.

It had been a while since they’d seen someone collapse like that, but it didn’t seem to line up with his wounds. Maybe the shadow travel? They weren’t sure. What he said after made them more sceptical. Was he referring to the house, or his body? They’d never sensed the house could be sentient, but there was always a chance. Still, they got the feeling it was the latter rather than the former.

Gods, I really had to get attacked when I was already in a flare up, huh? Of course I did, Tyche fucking hates me. Well maybe not personally but it sure feels like it. I can’t be arsed with this, why isn’t the ambrosia working yet? Ugh.

He pulled out a slightly crushed cereal bar and a clean sweater, removing the blood stained one with a wince as the material pulled away from his skin.

"Eh... 'm originally from Scotland, but I've not been there since I was... maybe eight?" he shoved the dirty jumper into his bag and thew on the other, curling up a bit as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and took a small bite of food.

“We should clean those,” they gestured at his side. “I can help ya with it,” Monroe held out the supplies. “But no pressure, man.” They added, not wanting to make the other demigod any more uncomfortable than he already looked. They sure as hades wouldn’t want a stranger patching them up, especially if they weren’t in a good position to fight.

“Oh, I’m Canadian.” They didn’t really see much point in lying now, they’d already taken Finn to their hideout for the time being and he didn’t seem the type to be up to date on Canadian missing persons cases. “Been back and forth between home and the USA for most of my life, but I’ve been kinda stuck here for nearly the past year.”

It wasn’t quite the truth, but they didn’t know enough about the other demigod to know how full-disclosure of their past would be taken. Admittedly, there was no such thing as a good response to it — the best case scenario was just regret masked as neutrality.

"I've been to Canada a few times, not lived there though" he said after eating a couple more mouthfuls and putting the wrapper in his pocket.

Yeah more like majorly fucked up with my sense of direction and ended up crashing in the woods there for multiple days he thought, deciding against saying that part aloud

Now that they had a closer look at the boy, he looked almost familiar — like a substitute teacher they’d had one too many times; not quite an acquaintance but someone they’d seen around more than once. It wouldn’t have been too uncommon, but they didn’t think he’d been at camp when they had, and they surely would have recognized him if they’d met later? Maybe it was best not to bring it up, for safety’s sake.

“East coast, west coast, or prairies?” Monroe asked. Any excuse to talk about home was nice, it’d been far too long — they missed it.

Could take him with us, their mind supplied as they paused for a moment to grab another roll of gauze. Fuck no, terrible idea, the rest of them screamed. They had places to be, people to meet, it was bad enough they were letting this guy into their house. But —

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

“Gods, are you okay?” Monroe rushed over, trying to support him as he moved towards the couch.

It had been a while since they’d seen someone collapse like that, but it didn’t seem to line up with his wounds. Maybe the shadow travel? They weren’t sure. What he said after made them more sceptical. Was he referring to the house, or his body? They’d never sensed the house could be sentient, but there was always a chance. Still, they got the feeling it was the latter rather than the former.

Gods, I really had to get attacked when I was already in a flare up, huh? Of course I did, Tyche fucking hates me. Well maybe not personally but it sure feels like it. I can’t be arsed with this, why isn’t the ambrosia working yet? Ugh.

He pulled out a slightly crushed cereal bar and a clean sweater, removing the blood stained one with a wince as the material pulled away from his skin.

"Eh... 'm originally from Scotland, but I've not been there since I was... maybe eight?" he shoved the dirty jumper into his bag and thew on the other, curling up a bit as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and took a small bite of food.

“We should clean those,” they gestured at his side. “I can help ya with it,” Monroe held out the supplies. “But no pressure, man.” They added, not wanting to make the other demigod any more uncomfortable than he already looked. They sure as hades wouldn’t want a stranger patching them up, especially if they weren’t in a good position to fight.

“Oh, I’m Canadian.” They didn’t really see much point in lying now, they’d already taken Finn to their hideout for the time being and he didn’t seem the type to be up to date on Canadian missing persons cases. “Been back and forth between home and the USA for most of my life, but I’ve been kinda stuck here for nearly the past year.”

It wasn’t quite the truth, but they didn’t know enough about the other demigod to know how full-disclosure of their past would be taken. Admittedly, there was no such thing as a good response to it — the best case scenario was just regret masked as neutrality.

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

“Gods, are you okay?” Monroe rushed over, trying to support him as he moved towards the couch.

It had been a while since they’d seen someone collapse like that, but it didn’t seem to line up with his wounds. Maybe the shadow travel? They weren’t sure. What he said after made them more sceptical. Was he referring to the house, or his body? They’d never sensed the house could be sentient, but there was always a chance. Still, they got the feeling it was the latter rather than the former.

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.

I mean it not too bad, right? Totally not like I felt I was gonna drop dead ten minutes ago. Hah. Imagine that… I’m annoying them and they could’ve just left me but they didn’t so I should try do what I can for them so I don’t piss them off, right? Right?

They’d not had much experience with dealing with folks with strong allergies, but they’d known a few celiacs who weren’t able to set foot near gluten. “I can probably sanitize the cabin if you need.”

They arrived at the cabin, stopping for a moment to pull open the old wood door. Gods, whoever said Canadians apologize a lot ain’t never met this guy, they thought, followed by the voice of their mother chiding them for the rudeness.

“You don’t have to apologize so much, Finn. Shit happens,” they noticed the boy’s hands trembling. What in hades happened to him? “Everything turned out okay, nothing to worry about now.”

They’d never been great at comforting folks — and not knowing what else to say, they headed into the cabin, holding the door open for the boy behind them. By now the faded rug and old hunting trophies had become familiar enough to Monroe, as had the faded blue couch sat facing the fire on which they tossed the packs — only realizing after that there might be breakables in them.

“You take the breakfast bars,” the thought of giving up food never quite sat well with them but they didn’t know what else they could offer him. “I’ve got enough already and you definitely need to eat.”

[This is a Riordanverse OC, feel free to use canon characters or OCs to interact, this is my first time writing a starter, so I apologise for any mistakes :]

Finn was sitting against a tree, hugging his bag to his chest, seemingly only half conscious and bleeding from what looked like claw marks when you came across him. He had just shadow travelled away from a fight with some gryphons, which he thought would be a good way to escape at the time, though was now regretting it. The demigod didn't look in any way ready to fight, but as he noticed you he fumbled for his sword and pushed himself into a standing position, using his cane to keep himself upright.

They reached into their bag, rummaging around for any ambrosia left when the boy suddenly got up, though by the way he shook it didn’t seem that he’d be able to put up much of a fight.

“I’m Jo,” it was a fake name, one they’d been using in the past few towns. “I’m getting out some ambrosia — you look like you need it, so don’t go attacking me while I’m rooting around my bag, okay?”

They pull out a slightly squashed golden square, about a fifth of what they had left of the general demigod healing kit, holding it out to the boy as a peace offering. He didn’t seem to recognize them, which either meant that they’d never run into each other at camp or that they’d just stumbled upon an untrained demigod out in the wild. Neither of those options were good, but the first was marginally better than the second.

“So,” they crouched down next to him. “What happened to you?”

The sun was setting, the gold of the sky would have been nice on most days, but that was when they knew that most monsters would ignore their presence. With an unknown demigod around, one that had clearly been attacked, they couldn’t guarantee they’d go unnoticed come nightfall out in the open.

The boy muttered something under his breath, something about 3000 miles — what was that in klicks? — and getting arrested. Either way, it wasn’t safe to be out in the middle of nowhere like this, and given the boy’s response it didn’t seem that he’d be able to find his way to somewhere safe on his own.

Shaking their head a bit, they reach out for the boy’s bag. “Let me carry that,” were they really doing this? They held their other hand out to help the boy up. It didn’t seem he’d rat them out, not that he could unless he was willing to risk shadow travel twice in a day.

"You're not trying to kill me, right? Really can't be arsed with that right now." he was obviously joking, but he did sort of mean it, he was also hoping this wouldn't be anything like what happened with Luke –Gods, how long had it been? Four years? Yeah.– four years ago.

Walking ahead through the brush, they ducked under a low-hanging spruce branch, their bag rattling with what was left of their drachmas and regular coin.

The path was rooted and gnarled, not anywhere close to how it was back home, but still enough for them to hold out an arm for balance in some of the particularly twisted sections. Of all their grandmother’s earthly gifts, stability was not one of them. It would only be a few more minutes until they arrived at the cabin. But it wasn’t a distance they’d want to go on a twisted ankle.

“So, what’s your name?” They asked, turning slightly to the boy while keeping an eye on the path ahead. The boy seemed rather clueless on the monsters end, but clearly was skilled enough if he knew how to shadow travel. Plus, despite his state, it seemed like he knew at least the basics on how to wield a sword.

"A few years ago, uhhh... four? I was claimed then, but sorta knew for longer. Used to be called..."

Devil spawn. No. You killed them all, Lei. I didn't- Murderer. ...Stop. I swear I didn't, I swear- I couldn't do anything, I swear- Liar.

He froze. Shutting down at the memories. He knew it was probably a bad idea to think of anything that happened before he left the Princess Andromeda but it was too late, he was now just standing there. Stuck.

He looked shaken, mentally and physically. They weren’t a fan of taking any longer, but it didn’t seem like much they could do about it lest they pick the boy up and carry him back. Even with all their strength, the time on the road had sapped too much energy to attempt it.

“Yeah, no problem,” they nodded, turning to face Finn. Putting the pack down, they did a scan of the trees. Nothing felt off, nor were any of the dryads disturbed — a good sign. “Do you…” they trailed off. Was this a bad time to ask?

Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot

“It’s fine,” they stopped walking, crouching down next to Finn. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve yet to meet a demigod who doesn’t have their panic mode on speed dial.”

Was that rude? They were never quite sure, but it was the truth. Even if it manifested differently, defensiveness, anger, or their own mind screaming to run, it was all the same thing; fight or flight still applied regardless of your parentage.

It shouldn’t be long until they reach the cabin, but the added weight of Finn’s bag, plus the weight of their own and the long day they’d had was starting to weigh them down.

They continued along the path, slower this time — telling themself it was for the other demigod’s sake, but deep down they knew it was for their own sake as well. The months on the road and the remnants of the war, as well as the minimal rest and socialization, had taken a harder toll than they’d anticipated.

“It’s just up ahead,” they pushed through a small thicket of brambles. From here the foliage opened up, becoming more of a proper path than an animal trail. Pushing past a low-hanging branch, the trees gave way to a clearing of long grass, with the cabin sat in the centre.

It was an old thing, two stories and made of logs that looked half rotted on the western side, with cracked glass windows and the remnants of a swing collapsed on the porch. Not Monroe’s favourite living situation, but it beat the few weeks they’d spent on the street in New York.