#mistforms

Taken from my other post ofc

Yeah I was gonna make an entire graph but then got lazy and didn't. Anyways I think it's just one of those things that would offset mistforms from normal people/animals. So this would still apply to Claymore, although he has a consciousness unlike common mistforms.

I also think they would be very forgettable things. Like if you were mortal and saw a mistform, of course you would think it was just something normal, but even to demigods you can't seem to ever remember seeing or interacting with the because they're made of mist

Ethan remembered what he’d thought of Alabaster the first time they’d met– he’d put Ethan on edge. Not intentionally, but the young demigod didn’t have any powers to speak of, not like the son of Hecate’s, so the part of him that was always wired for a fight, and the part of him that was prepared at a moment’s notice to pass retribution, these pieces of him set his nerves on fire, and his skin had prickled with anticipation. 

Perhaps that was why he’d chosen Alabaster as his sparring partner so often. Why they’d eventually become friends because of it. The only way to beat fear was to become familiar with the source of it. 

Well, he was familiar now, both more and less than he wanted to be. The bond that someone shared with a war-mate was not an easy bond to shatter– and the proof of that was in how quickly they’d mended their friendship after Bash had gone on the run. But likewise, the distance between two people who’d been united by duty was a large chasm to surmount: did Alabaster only befriend him because they’d been part of Kronos’s main forces? 

His thoughts dissipated the moment he felt Bash’s hand squeeze his, though– every thought, all of them. He could feel the tips of his ears go warm, and he pursed his lips to keep in a surprised sound. 

Ethan counted to five to steady himself, swallowed, and then said, “Who cares what others would think? Your siblings would love to see you. And the satyrs… they can help find others. I’d even– I mean, we can go together to find some. Or Lamia. We could see if Rachel– the new Oracle– will call it an official quest.” He grinned. “Can you imagine that? Us, on a quest for Camp Half Blood?” 

I’d do it, though. I would go, for you.

“Just… listen, if it’s not a ‘yes’ right now, promise me you’ll think about it. I need–” Woah, Nakamura. Slow down. “...A good sparring buddy again.” 

Something his mother had never directly admitted to him, but that he knew anyway, was that she was glad he wasn’t force-sensitive. When he’d been a kid, he’d been disappointed about it, but as an adult, he understood exactly why a Sith mother would pray that her child was not divine– not in that way, anyhow. When she trained him, she could train him without fearing that one day, he’d have to prove himself by ending her– or that he’d fail, and she’d have to kill him, instead.

No, when she’d trained him, they’d nothing to fear but his own weaknesses; which he’d rapidly worked to release. Capable of resisting mind tricks, hiding from most force-users unless they were looking for him in particular, and even armed in precision shooting designed to counter force use, Ethan Nakamura, some 19 standard years old, was quite the effective tool to both his mother and the Empire. 

Which was why he was never anywhere for very long, almost always either investigating a lead or hunting force-users. Some, he was to kill. And others, he was to take to the Empire as assets. 

This one was the latter. 

He’d prefer to do it without resistance, though, so as he mounted the rooftop above this guy, his rifle was loaded with a stun round, not live ones. He raised the modified sight to his single eye and, with it still on safety, found the force-user with his crosshairs. 

And then, he did what he was never supposed to do: Ethan hesitated. 

Usually, he was taking out adults much older than himself, some of whom wouldn’t waste any time killing him back. But this target… looked his age, or near it. 

And that’s when he made his second mistake. As he pulled back to look without his scope, the barrel of his rifle clanged against a central air fan installed on the roof, giving him away immediately. 

Kriff. Ethan would have to do this the hard way. He strapped the rifle to his back and drew a grapple, anchoring it to the roof ledge, and then leaped down, descending the building in one fell swoop, halting just before he hit the ground. 

He pushed off the wall, yanked his pistol from a hip holster, and leveled it at the force-user. 

Who was… close. Really close. 

He could look into his eyes. 

“Today feel like a winning kind of day to you?” Ethan strode over to his friend, their general, who looked… practically radiant, even among the exhaustion of the culmination of their war. The battle had started two days ago, and their side had done nothing but continue to take more territory and steadily wear out their opponents. It felt good, and he was willing to bet that Alabaster thought so, too. 

It was what the Olympians and their defenders deserved– total and absolute recompense for the hurt they’d caused. 

Ethan’s armor was freshly polished, and he’d sharpened his sword before bed last night. Standing beneath Kronos’s purple banner, his back was set straight, and his shoulders were pulled back. His chin didn’t drop toward the ground like it usually did. His head felt clear and lacking of any pain. His very veins felt like they were singing. 

He’d been right when he’d told Percy Jackson that this is what he was made to do. 

It seemed like the same was true for his– could he call Alabaster his best friend? 

His closest ally in the army.

“What’s our goal for today, General?” Ethan was a part of the demigod forces which populated the front lines– placing fellow halfbloods near the front of their march tended to cause the other side to hesitate. It tired them out, to have to avoid killing them– so then, when the monsters joined the fray, they were already feeling overwhelmed. 

If it weren’t for the fact that all of them were demigods, Ethan wouldn’t understand how the other side had managed to last this long; alas, when one was facing off with fellow half-gods, it couldn’t be denied that they were decent adversaries. 

It wouldn’t matter soon, though. Once Alabaster gave him his assignment, he’d prepare to move out, and they’d continue to win. It was impossible to imagine how they couldn’t. 

Sound of Nightmares Starters II Accepting

It would make the fight easier. Two demigods have twice the chance of attracting monsters than one, so Ethan’s not all that surprised that they’ve encountered a group of dracaenae- but on the other hand, two demigods have twice the chance of surviving said dracaenae. 

Without hesitation, Ethan nods, and then draws his sword, stepping in front of Alabaster to take a defensive stance. He wants their caster behind him, so that he, the melee fighter, can be a shiny lure between spells. “Just try not to zap me, okay?” He grins over his shoulder. “Friendly fire is not cool.” 

Sound of Nightmares Starters II Accepting

Ethan’s taking a break with Alabaster when the question is asked. He hadn’t been looking at the other demigod, so when the content of the inquiry registers, his head pops up, and he glances sideways at him.