|Zosimos "Simon" Zografios ~ Son of Hope|
"Hope is the pillar that holds up the world. Hope is the dream of a waking man."
|The 2018 Winter Paralympics Games were in full swing, and Simon spared no expense in cheering for his teammates. Although he was less familiar with the winter athletes due to his own sport, running, being a summer event, he still knew a few of Team USA's winter members from training sessions and media circuits around the country. Within the very large and very empty Elpis' Cabin, Simon had set up a wide projector screen enchanted (with the help of some Hecate sports enthusiasts) to display the current Paralympic competitions taking place. However, try as he might, he couldn't watch the Paralympics for more than a few hours without feeling the need to get up and out for a run of his own. Partly due to the inspirational quality of the Games, partly due to ADHD making him restless, and partly due to his desire to exercise away his excess energy after sitting still for so long, Simon strapped on his running leg during a commercial break and bounded out of the cabin. With fresh air in his lungs and a brisk wind behind his back, he silently issued a prayer of thanks to Nike for allowing him to experience his favorite part of life once more.|
|Owned by: Nata ~ Posted on: 21:42, March 12, 2018 (UTC)|
- Simon: In his youth Zosimos had been able to run for as many hours as the day was long, leisurely but ceaselessly, his heart beating a steady pace to the tune of his bare footfalls. Chemotherapy had stolen his hair and his energy, but only temporarily--what were a few months compared to three thousand years of life?--and with every passing day, both his strength and scalp grew anew. Although Simon competed professionally as a sprinter and not a distance runner, during his casual training he enjoyed pushing the boundaries of his endurance. Long runs through the woods surrounding Camp provided him a blessed opportunity to explore the natural splendor of his surroundings. As Simon wove between trees and trotted alongside fields, the dirt cushioned the impact of his prosthetic, muffling the uneven tempo of his gait so that he could hear the birdsongs of early spring echoing amidst the pines.
After what felt like an hour--being alive for millennia may have altered his perception of time--Simon returned to Camp. His right leg was chafing from the prosthetic, and although he could bear the discomfort, he didn't want his leg to blister and grow infected. On the cooldown jog back to his cabin, he fell in line behind a fellow runner, a young woman with an unplaceably regal bearing. Her posture and countenance displayed some solemn, dignified quality which Simon couldn't adequately describe in words. He briefly wondered if she might be a goddess disguised in mortal form, but he rapidly dismissed that thought. From his eternity on Olympus, he knew that very few goddesses would deign to visit Camp for the simple sake of a run, and the two that would preferred to take on the form of either a prepubescent huntress or a winged athlete. Curious, Simon quickened his pace to close the distance between the not-Artemis, not-Nike character and himself.
- Adrasteia: She is, in part, aware that other people are doing the same as she. Likewise, she can feel someone's eyes burning the back of her skull. Three millennia worth of experience had enabled her to notice whenever she was being ogled and/or followed. And right now, all of Adrasteia's senses were tingling. This was Camp Half-Blood, and no place would be safest for her. Not even her uncle's palace, which was demolished hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. She is home, and the people inside it are her family. Nonetheless, her experiences have also told her even family can turn into backstabbing traitors, and thus she become wary. Who is following her, and why? For now, she tries not to heed too much attention to the occurrences, procuring herself with running until her lungs gave out. It wouldn't be any time soon, she knew, thus eliminating the possibility of an encounter with the person any time soon, unless provoked. While she's been able to ignore it for the most part, a small part of her brain is constantly buzzing, wariness ever-growing at the back of her mind.
She's burning with curiosity, but she knows good things come to those who wait. All she has to do is bid her time. If she's truly in a sticky situation, she'll know to react, but for now, she doesn't think she has to. I mean, there's always the chance the other person is on a jog, just like her, no? It doesn't mean she should jump to the worst conclusion. Where has that ever gotten anyone? Both old and modern politics have been defiled over and over by people who like to jump to conclusions. She's learned from this, and so it's not something she's keen on doing. Nobody can judge except those who decide your posthumous fate, for you to serve for all of eternity, she remembers. It's an old quote, one uttered by Orion himself, and even though he turned out to be one of the rotten kind, she still likes to think that's the best advice she's gotten in her three thousand years of living.
- Simon: Although he did not consider himself stupid, Simon recognized that he was a simple man. His thoughts and actions alike were simple in the straightforward sense, with no room for gradiose schemes or calculated gestures. He had an aversion for overthinking and a talent for simply moving forward, step by step, guided by an unwavering hope that he could manage whichever situation awaited him at his destination. Perhaps that was why he preferred running, the simplest sport, Simon mused.
Even though millennia of dealing with Olympians and mortals alike had certainly granted Simon an awareness of the intricacies of social interaction, his preference for a simple approach surpassed his willingness to account for every potential outcome in social situations. As he approached Adrasteia, he briefly thought that chasing after a running woman might give off an unfortunate impression, but that thought quickly vanished from his mind, too ephemeral to leave him with any sense of worry. He simply wanted to converse with this strangely regal character, and he was confident that his intentions would prove clear. Once Simon had caught up with Adrasteia, he adopted her pace and jogged alongside her at a respectful distance. "Χαῖρε!" he greeted in Greek, laced with the Athenian accent of his ancient origins. Out of all the languages he had learned over the years, he still preferred the old tongue. Although very few campers understood the language, over the past few weeks Simon had found it to be an excellent conversation starter, at the very least. "I don't believe I've seen you around Camp before," he continued. "My name is Simon. I apologize for interrupting your run so suddenly, but may I ask who you are?"
Nata: Feel free to make much shorter posts than that last one because I suddenly had a burst of writing motivation and then looked back an hour later and there were too many words for a single paragraph OTL
Nata: I found the ancient Greek word for "hello" on Omniglot, which had this handy pronunciation clip along with the translation: Χαῖρε! Simon doesn't know that Addy is a fellow Greek demigod at this point; he's just greeting people in a foreign language in the same manner I say "aloha" all the time in chat haha