Teen God High School

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Astaroth

[*screaming into the void intensifies*]
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Tuesday, September 23rd
Great Misery Island, Massachusetts


Island2.png


The chill breeze that was sweeping the Sound that morning- just like every other morning for the last twenty days- sent salt water spraying, peppering the stony shoreline with dark, damp marks. Overhead were clear skies, a fact for which the group assembled on the promontory might be thankful for, had they not known such weather to be practically guaranteed.

After all, it was the first day of Sports Week for the students of Amphisbaena Boarding School for Girls and Boys... and the Greek god of thunder was apparently, as one of their number had eloquently put it, "TiVo-ing this shit".

It hadn't taken long for them to discover that their P.E. teacher's idea of sports had been inspired in a large part by certain ancient Greek games, as well. This was likely due to the fact that their P.E. teacher was not only pals with Zeus, but had been at those games himself (and if you listened to the god tell it, had orchestrated its very conception). Every day for almost three weeks now, they'd been subjected to an hour of whatever struck his fancy: javelin throwing, team Frisbee, something called "long jumping" (which turned out to be exactly what it said on the tin), and (for a surprising and inexplicable change) an entire week of good old American baseball.


Today, they stood in the field beyond what mortal eyes took to be the ruins of an old pump house, and what the very special teenagers who'd gathered there could see was in fact a fully equipped school gym. (That was just another little quirk of the island that had taken getting used to; sometimes, visitors and tourists would wander up from the beach or one of the hiking trails and be as oblivious to the demigod students and their teachers as if they were ghosts rather than immortals.) A long line had been drawn in the dirt, stretching the length of the clearing.

"Look!" remarked a tall, thin-faced blond boy dressed in an orange-and-black trench coat and yellow sweater. His name was Taj Attar, and he was well-known even to the newest members of the student body for his particularly loud-colored clothing (among other things). Taj elbowed his nearest companion in the torso as he nodded at the line, eyes lighting up. "We're doing the foot race again this year."


His companion probably didn't feel the blow too much, considering he was at present twice the size of a very large dog and in the shape of a stout, fur-covered lizard. It was another of Emrys Goch's bad days; the young demigod had gotten himself stuck in dragon form overnight, and as yet had not managed to change back. Whether this would affect his P.E. performance for better or worse was anyone's guess.

Emrys rolled his shoulder in what looked like a shrug.

"That's correct," announced the god Hermes- yes, that Hermes- as he hovered a good six inches over the dewy grass, looking down his nose at them from behind round spectacles. Rather than the toga one might expect from popular depictions, he was wearing a thoroughly mundane (if somewhat feminine) powder blue wool cardigan and khaki trousers. Tiny wings flapped at the heels of his spit-shined shoes, keeping him afloat. It was absolutely as ridiculous-looking as it sounded, but few students would dare to say it to the gym teacher's face. In addition to instructing P.E. and Poetry, he was a member of Amphisbaena's disciplinary board.


No one wanted to have detention with Hermes. The god had probably been born with the Caduceus up his ass.

He also loved to lecture.

"Today we will celebrate one of the mortal traditions of old," Hermes continued, his voice crisp and clear and carrying. "The foot race was once held as a competition for the honor of being chosen by the gods. It is only fitting that you- you who come from gods, who would be gods in your own right- should uphold this rite for the opening ceremony of your 'Sports Week'.


"At the signal, the race shall begin. You will run once around the circumference of the island-"

Someone squawked loudly in protest. This was undoubtedly because Great Misery spanned over 80 acres of land. Taj remembered from a tourist brochure that the actual hiking trails made up two and a half miles alone.

"-navigating any and all obstacles, and return here. You will be monitored to ensure that you compete in the spirit that the games are intended. For those of you who struggle to parse my meaning, allow me to clarify: no cheating will be tolerated. The first to return shall win today's prize."


Those last words were sure to perk the new students' ears, if not those who'd been at Amphisbaena for over a year now. What sort of prize might be awarded by a god?

A bone-shaking clap of thunder pealed down from the clear blue sky.

Taj jumped as if it had been a gunshot. A split second later, he was patting Emrys anxiously on the shoulder. "Come on, come on, we have to get going or we'll be eating everyone's dirt!"
 
The cool breze moved through the dark hair of a rather tall teenage girl. She wore a pair of skinny jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and a pair of green converse. This girl's name was Russia.

Her piercing green eyes were focused in the teacher, whom was not like any teacher Russia knew of. He was a god, Hermes to be in fact. Russia wasn't all to well at knowing anything Greek, though she was an expert in Norse Mythology. All she knew was that he was the Greek god of trade, theives, travelers, sports, athletes, and border crossings. Don't get Russia started on sports.

For the past three weeks the god had put them through torturous P.E. exercises: javelin throwing, team Frisbee, long jumping, and.. baseball. After getting her head nearly decapitated, getting her ass kicked in team Frisbee, stretching her legs too much, and losing in baseball, Russia would like to be in her dorm while sipping on her hidden stash of vodka and getting unbelievably drunk.

But sadly she couldn't and today Hermes was going to make them do a foot race, he was going to make them run the circumference of the island. Russia let out a sigh, she was going to be sore once this was over. "Eto slishkom mnogo. Vy pytayetes' ubit' nas?" she complained. She had said, 'This is too much. Are you trying to kill us?'

At the words 'no cheating' she grinned. For being who she was, and having a father that was the god of trouble making and mischief, she just had to do something bad. It was just who she was. But then again, did she want to waste time listening to the god before them go on and on about not doing anything bad? He was famous for giving lectures after all. She would have the entire race to figure out what she wanted to do.

A loud clap of thunder knocked Russia from her thoughts. Once she noted that it was the sign for them to go, she took off running.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her time walking roomate, Nathaniel. Over the pass twenty days she has learned of what he could do. It was entirely different than her simple hypnosis and illusion making, and much more complex she assumed. But, her powers still sucked. She had no complete control over them. If she simply asked someone to do something, in the nicest way possible, they would do it. If she asked someone to go do something idiotic, they would do it. And it all happened at the most random moments. When Russia would be in bed trying to go to sleep, or out and about campus, she would make these illusions while not knowing she made them. Most of the time the illusion's would look like big and dark creatures, they would scare Russia and others around her to death. Yeah, her powers sucked.

She pushed herself further, while keeping her eyes on her opponents. She wad already feeling the burn in her upper thighs.

 
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Emrys Goch

Emrys stuck his tongue out into the chilly wind, tasting the salt that the sea-breeze wafted inland from the surf. The taste reminded him of his home back in Wales, though it had hardly been this... pleasant there. Here the waves were more gentle. At his family's estate, they had crashed quite loudly, incessantly against the nearby cliffs. The family gardener had contracted pneumonia. The fur-covered dragon shook his head and whined. Sometimes, Taj was far too enthusiastic for his own good. The dragon shrugged at the comment, he was definitely not looking forward to the foot race. He was bad enough with just two legs, what more with four?

Which god had his parents pissed off to have a child with his fucked-up abilities? Emrys mused as Hermes jabbered on and on about the foot races. The dragon growled. Right. They had pissed each other off. In an entirely different way, one that involved a lot of booze, and probably some banter, and, as he had often theoreized, a bet that had ended up with him being born. Really, Dionysus was the one to blame for his predicament of existing. If he had a fist to shake at the sky, he would've.

Emrys eyed the line on the ground warily, it had not been good the last time they had the foot races. He whined and shook his head when the peal of thunder rang from the heavens. Jesus. Could the Gods not do anything without dramatic flair? His poor ears were battered enough with the loud music of the Apollo-kids. Emrys tried to shrug off Taj's hand. He did not want to participate, gods be damned.

The dragon sat his ass down on the ground firmly and shook his head. He looked at the dirt between his front paws. Then he turned to face Taj, and those wide eyes bright with enthusiasm and excitement for the race. He was going to regret this. He slowly stood back up and let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh. Fine." He would've said if he had vocal capabilities. He hadn't quite figured out how Y Ddraig Goch did it yet. The Red Dragon had not been very forthcoming.

He nudged Taj over the line with his head and took off, cursing all the while the fact that he was stuck in his dragon-forme. Did his powers really have to act up today, of all days? Emrys' thoughts strayed from his misfortune and he wondered if having the exuberant blond ride him would be considered cheating. He paused. Then again, it was probably not a good idea. Neither of them would probably leave the race unscathed. He ran, feeling the cool breeze across his face, making his fur ripple. Maybe it wasn't so bad to run, after all. Rob Brydon was starting one of his gigs in a bar in Wales. Emrys snorted derisively. Suddenly there was a stone embedded in one of his paws. Suddenly his other paw was caught in an exposed root.

Suddenly, his face had a not-too-pleasant meeting with the ground.
 
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If Taj was bright and flashy, so was Ayumu. With bedazzled pumps and bare legs up to just above the knee, the boy was showing off his newest dress - yellow and black pinstripe with a thick matching belt at the waist. He loved this dress and because it was so sunny and nice out, he'd given in to his desire to wear it.

Of course he forgot about gym class and as soon as he saw that line drawn in the dirt, his golden brown eyes widened with surprise and then promptly narrowed while he bit his bottom lip. "So we meet again, mine enemy," he said to the line, completely distracted from anything the teacher might have been saying. It was fine though, because Ayumu had done this race a few good times over the years he'd spent at Amph.. uh, this school.


"Okay! Need some running shoes, Ayumu!" he said out loud to himself and, licking his glossed lips, he lifted both hands, stretched his arms out with palms upward, furrowed his brow with concentration, wiggled his fingers...


And a bolt of thunder cracked his concentration.

POOF!

A pair of shiny red shoes popped into existence behind the veil of a little cloud of smoke. The breeze caught up the smoke and carried it off, leaving the shoes to gleam under the sunlight. Only, they were about eight times too big with large bulbous toes. Ayumu stared at them for a moment, blinking. And then he burst out laughing. "Clown shoes? What the hell?! Ahaha--" and he tossed them over his shoulders, accidentally smacking a classmate or two with them. "One more time. You can do this Ayumu!"


He started the process again, this time succeeding. He set his sparkling heels on the stone ledge and tugged on the dull running shoes, hopping on one foot and trying to fix the tongue so that it wasn't bunched up while simultaneously trying to return to his roommate's side. "Luzitaaa! Don't start without me! I'll get lost! ...L-like last year."


And the year before.

And the year before that.
 
Vanja Freyjason
For some the foot race was something akin to torture but for Van? It was one of his favorite things. He liked running all out. It was what he did on his days off! Now Hermes, who was a prick by the way, wanted him to do it for a grade? Absolutely! Vanja listened for a moment to some of the students groaning and complaining. A small smile lit up his face, though... The words that no cheating would be allowed made Van bite his lower lip.

That meant that no Rune Magic would be allowed? Using his skills shouldn't be cheating but with Hermes, you never knew. He gnawed at his lower lip and then bit down too hard as thunder crashed over them. Van scoured the sky and glared balefully up at it, his lip bruising where his teeth had gotten a little too feisty...

"Yeah yeah. We get it." He muttered under his breath and then took off down the tracks. The very act of running had his spirits picking back up as the fresh air hit his face. The smile came back and widened, a bounce entered his step and he was bounding down the trail pleased as punch, his fluffy dark red pony tail bouncing behind him.

He was gonna win this. For sure.
 
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Constance did not bother griping about it; as everyone ran, Ater hopped from her shoulder and burst into flight. With a somewhat playful nudge to Adrian's side, she moved forward, running at a decent pace- timing her breaths and movement. "C'mon, let's go!" The clank of the heavy training sword at her side announced her presence; a familiar and comforting sound to her- that of a warrior. Hoping that she wouldn't get reprimanded for it, she glanced over her shoulder as she turned music on- ear bud in one ear so she could still be alert.

Hermes paid her no mind- it must have been her lucky day.

She had made sure to keep a watchful eye on Adrian, as the rest of her classmates were being as fun as they had been the year before; only a few new faces met her glance as she passed by. She had acquaintances, but few real friends- being the unwitting trouble-maker of her class did not make matters better. Things would be different, this year- she couldn't place her finger on what or how, but the winds of change were coming.
 
A race.

It had to be a race.

Nathaniel started to run, keeping an even pace with the others, weighing his options. He could accelerate time, winning this thing easily, but gods knew if he could keep control of it alone, much less if another chronokinetic deity was interfering. Or he could just run this thing ordinarily and hope no one else had enough control of their powers... Wait, why was he even trying to impress Hermes? That dude was full of crap.

Que será, será.

Resolving to let come what may, Nathaniel fell into an easy stride meant for endurance, keeping up with the majority of the pack without blasting his energy reserves away. He'd see how everything else played out, then make his move. His roommate was slightly ahead and to the left of him, pushing herself. Her abilities were... Interesting, he had to admit.
 
Luzita Chang, #FF66CC



The budding fashion god was so amped to start her first year at Amphisbaena! She had read, reread, and rereread the brochures, went on the tour, the online tour and snuck into another first years group's tour of the school. The only thing reining in the young girl's enthusiasm was her father's obvious failure to properly hide his loneliness properly from his only daughter. There was not much to do about that. Even when she wasn't grounded from hanging out with the 'bad influences' from Parsons, when she had spent three hours stuck to the stove because of the strange substance oozing from her wrist and the visit from her divine mother, plans were made to change her education curriculum.

In the year and a half before transferring, Luzita promised herself to cherish the time with her father. Even going so far as to use the gooey mess to help her father hang clients' orders. On the last night, her mother even managed to make another appearance for her farewell dinner.

The guilt of leaving her father alone in their tiny apartment in New York never held her long... besides it was sports day! All of her Parsons friends confiscated her luggage and stuffed it with their samples and other little goodies, trinkets and letters of encouragement. She was prepared for this day having long committed the academic calendar to memory.

At the sound of the thunderclap, Luzita was off...! At a cautious pace, to look at Luzita one would think she was walking down a runway with too much enthusiasm. She was jingling with all the hair ornaments, bracelets, bangles and necklaces along the track. She was excited to participate in all the school's activities but most definitely not at the expense of looking fantastic.

"Luzitaaa! Don't start without me! I'll get lost!"

Luzita chided herself, she almost left her bestie best roomie behind. Making a twirl mid-stride Luzita jogged her way back towards Ayumu, ribbons and dangly bits streaming behind her. "C'mon c'mon Ayummy-yums! Being the super super last people to finish won't be as cool!"

15 year olds. Gung ho 15 year olds could be so exhausting.
 
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It was a beautiful day on the island. That was what Goldie thought as she started running. Nevermind Hermes. She didn't mind being last, not that she was. She wasn't even trying to be first, because frankly she wasn't that athletic. Goldie waved at her cousin Vanja as he passed her. It was so nice to get to see her cousin regularly. Even though they both had lived with their parents, Van was often in Odin's Hall and Goldie was more likely to be found in the elf fields.

That was why she was here though, she didn't really know how to interact with other gods, especially those of her own generation. Goldie hadn't particularly wanted to come to Amphisbaena, but Freyja and told Freyr how well her son had been doing there the previous years and it seemed in her father's mind better for her to spend a few years at school.

It surprised Goldie how much she actually liked school! Granted she still was a bit shy around the other godlings, but she was warming up to people. Like that Taj kid. He was all sunny! She blew a kiss at him as she passed him, his friend having tripped something awful.

Running was okay, but since Goldie didn't quite get the concept of racing (not that she didn't know what it was, she just didn't see the point) she started skipping!

Oh, it was a beautiful Autumn day!
 
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She hated running.

She hated this school.

She hated everyone at this school.

If she hadn't accidentally almost murdered her fragile human parents, maybe she wouldn't be here. Kieran mused this to herself as she started walking. Screw running, that wasn't going to happen. What were they going to do to her? Fail her? Suspend her? Kieran was already suffering the worst punishment in the universe when she was brought here in the first place. Young demi-gods were a danger to mortals. Obviously. But who thought cramming them all together in a school was a good idea?

Kieran could just feel it. How easy it would be to tug on one little thread of fate and send this entire island sinking in to the ocean. Unbidden chaos in every direction. She could do it too. Only, never by her own choice. Always by accident... that was the only reason why Kieran wasn't currently trying to ruin today's race.

Yet.

All of the smiling happy faces made her a little bit sick. What was there to be happy about? The morose girl thought about taking that one god's sparkling red shoes and throwing them right in to the sea. And the bouncing love gods? How about a tragic romance ending with flames and blood?

Walking along the sandy beach, Kieran kicked a rock in the path. The thing went flying.

And hit someone. Right in the back of the head. Icarus Eggfart, or whatever the hell his name was.

Great, now she had to deal with someone crying or getting pissy.

Kieran hated this place!
 
Alissa James
"Oh, a foot race. Let's all get covered in sweat and maybe ram our heads together as we beat our chests and howl to the moon. Seriously guys, I thought we were better than this." Alissa drawled sarcastically as she began to run very very slowly. Okay,so it was more of a lethargic jog then a run, but running wasn't really her thing. She wished it was her thing, because people tended to like other athletic people. It seemed to her that the fastest runners got the best friends. Even in social interactions Darwinism was still present. Then again there were the successful and not sporty ones who got friends too. Large heaping piles upon piles of friends. The success drew people in like vermin ran to a warm house stocked with food.

At the moment Alissa had nothing going for her. No athletic skills, success took too long and too much effort to achieve...But the prospect of having friends or maybe acquaintances with friend potential, kicked her into gear. If she won the damnable foot race, and got the prize, people would want to see the prize and they would flock to her and get trapped in her dark web of friendship!

Alissa's face twitched and she felt a bit of pain in her cheeks, as her lips stretched into a rare smile. She would win this race. And she would get friends. Heaps upon heaps of steaming hot and sweaty friends.
 
Molly groaned, rolling her eyes a bit, at the news there would be another footrace this year. It had been embarassing enough being new at Amphisbaena last year, but when she had found out she would have to run around the entire island on her first day? She was beyond mortified, and by the end of it she had been a sweaty mess, the cute outfit she had picked out for her first day ruined from falling so many times, which was largely attributable to the stylish but highly impractical shoes she was also wearing.

She had learned her lesson, though. This year she was wearing a loose tank top and jeans with sneakers. While she hadn't specifically dressed herself with another footrace in mind, she felt the best plan would be to not try and impress anyone right out of the gate this year. There would be other chances to dazzle her fellow students and be the object of everyone's jealousy. Right now she would just have to roll with whatever was thrown at her and try not to look like a complete idiot.

With her ears still ringing from the thunderclap, Molly set off at a moderate pace. She was no runner, and it wasn't like she was going to come in anywhere near first even if she pushed herself, but she wasn't going to be accused of being a slacker either. She had a repuatation to maintain after all, and being the girl who came in dead last wasn't something she wanted to be known for.

Deciding that the race might be a little more bearable if she had a partner to run it with, Molly looked around for her roommate Daphne as she jogged along. The curly-haired girl was pretty fun and easy to get along with, although they tended to hang out with their own groups of friends more often than each other. Weaving through a cluster of panting freshmen, Molly spotted Daphne up ahead and fell into pace beside her.

"Can you believe they're making us do this again this year?" She brushed aside a damp strand of hair that was hanging down over her face. "It's like these teachers want us to live through the Iron Age like they did or something."
 
Daphne brushed a stray curl out of her face as she looked around. Many of the faces were familiar, like almost literal ray of sunshine that was Taj, in the usual eye-squintingly bright shade of yellow. There were plenty of other familiar faces as well, this being her second year at the school. She'd yet to make any real friends yet, and she could once again hear her dad's voice in her head, fuzzy through the phone call he'd made a few days ago. He'd once again lectured her about the importance of making friends, as if life was an episode of Sesame Street or something. He then told her she couldn't go through life being a lone wolf. The words seemed ironic coming him instead of her other parent, the sometimes she-wolf huntress goddess of nature.

Daphne was dressed for the occasion, a plain tee with sports shorts and running shoes, a simple head band attempting to hold back her curls (the occasional lock still came loose, somehow). She had just finished stretching when the strike marked the beginning of the race. Off she went, pacing herself at the moment, but later, she knew she'd be giving it her all. It was hard to resist the urge to run and run as fast as her legs could carry her. Which was pretty fast, as she'd discovered during Summers with her mother and her wolves, running like a true wild-child through forests, leaving trails of moss in her trail.

"Yeah, it's funny how old deities get stuck in their ways," She responded with a smirk after noticing her roommate at her side. She didn't know if Molly and her could be called friends yet, but they were certainly getting past that kinda awkward 'so, we'll be living the same space' phase. "You'd think beings who've been around so long would be into mixing it up a little." Daphne said with a slight laugh.
 
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When confronted with the looming threat of enforced physical education at a high school for semi-deities, you really only have three options.

The first is to slap a big old smile on your face, line up like a stand up citizen and participate happily and willingly. I think a few of our number are getting into the spirit of things in this manner; generally the sons and daughters of deities noted for their physical prowess, I can't help but note, but good on them all the same. Your second option is to go along with the whole thing but ensure that you keep that charming teenage petulance on show the whole time. We have a whole lot of that on show today, but what else do you expect from a bunch of kids with barely contained divine abilities?

And your third option is to goof off.

I'm personally a fan of this one. It's the simplest approach.

It's not that I don't like sports; I'm a member of the Greek pantheon, after all, and we're all about stripping off and showing off how much better we are at stuff. And it isn't that I begrudge the lessons Hermes is trying to impart. There's definitely something to be said for ensuring that you are at your best.

No, it's more that I'd just rather be doing something else. I'm not a bad runner by any means (one of the perks of demigod-hood is that all those cigarettes I like sneaking don't fuck with my lungs), but it's not exactly something I get jazzed about. Right now I could be watching the show some lightning god is putting on for us, or preparing a costume for Halloween. Yes, I am aware it's only the end of September, but when your old man is the God of Death you've got a family reputation to maintain. Which means I gotta be practising my makeup.

Yes, makeup. Don't look at me like that. There's been hundreds of cultures over the centuries in which it was considered perfectly normal for guys to wear it. Hell, the Picts are theorised to have worn blue makeup and the Romans were so bloody scared of them they built an entire wall to keep them out. It used to scare the shit out of people, and that's something I'm aiming to bring back.

So as the proverbial gun goes off and the race begins, I saunter off at a leisurely pace with the others into the forests. The wrath of the storm above is abated suddenly as the trees take the brunt of the rain being flung down to the earth, creating a cacophonous sound of drops hammering off leaves and bark. There's a dark beauty to the whole thing, and I come to the conclusion that yes, this would indeed be an awesome place to goof off.

As the trees get thicker, I suddenly take a detour off the prescribed route through the forest and head off in amongst the foliage. Pretty soon I'll be out of sight and free to chill out for half an hour or so. After that I'll just head on back in with a "frightfully sorry, seems I got lost. For the third year running".

The simplest tactics are often the best, I've found.

The trees begin to thin once more, and I find myself standing on the rough sands of one of the island's beaches. A better spot for escaping all this running I will struggle to find, so with a chuckle I set myself down on a nearby rock...

...just in time for a much smaller one to come hurling towards me and crack against my head.

Kieran. Of course it would be Kieran, here to ruin my nice, peaceful time.

Keeping the cursing internal, I force a grin across my face as I turn to the girl, holding a hand against my head where the stone struck (seriously, I think that shit drew blood).
"Either you have really shitty aim, or really good aim. Personally, kinda hoping it's the former."
 
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