Entry tags:

Lofty Heights Open Log

Who: Everyone school-aged or school-adjacent (so basically everyone??)
What: SCHOOL HAS BEGUN
When: All through September
Where: School bus stops, School bus, and Lofty Heights
Content Warnings: n/a

Some Top-Level Ideas:

Faculty Preparations & Mingle (Before September 8th)
The faculty of Lofty Heights has a lot to do before the school year actually starts — prepping their classrooms, working out a curriculum, getting to know each other, getting the office to order the right supplies.

The Wormhole Projectors on the Bus Go Pew Pew Pew
The bus stops for Lofty Heights students are peppered throughout each of the cities. Parents and students alike are waiting there to be picked up.

Once you're on the road, things seem normal... until a womrhole opens up. The bus goes right through it, and suddenly all you can see out the window is clouds below... and the massive floating school complex on the horizon.

In-School Interaction
Are you lost on your way to your next class? Having trouble getting your locker open? See a friend and want to chat? Or maybe there's a pack of Seniors on the pros wl for new students, looking to do a little ~~bullying~~ hazing.

Or maybe you're already in the classroom, trying to wrangle your rowdy students — or, perhaps, you're a student trying to make sense of the current lesson.

When lunch time rolls around, do you sit alone? Or do you spot a friend or acquaintance and sit with them?

Anything that would make sense in the context of the school :D

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There was an apple and a pudding cup. That’s a solid tribute, where I’m from.

[ Nico answers her in kind, in Greek. Oh, but - how does she know ancient Greek? And how does she know that he knows ancient Greek?

She’s a demigod. Why doesn’t he know here? Is she new? Maybe she’s one of the lucky ones who only comes for the summer?

Maybe it’s Artemis with a new look. He… kinda hates that idea, but manages to keep from scowling before she turns him into a fox for a hunt. ]

Who are you?

[ He’s eying her lunch. The bacon doesn’t have that chalky, cold look. That’s probably a bad sign. ]

I guess.

[She'd prefer something like a freshly made milkshake, but it is technically possible that other gods have bad taste.]

I'm Serrure, Mr. di Angelo.

[And although her smile is always slightly mischievous, she's treating this like it's a completely ordinary lunchtime happening. Even as she pulls out a glass from her lunchbox and it promptly fills itself with orange juice. The magic is all spells prepared by Stephen, not Loki, but it's still pretty show-offy.]

You can call me Nico.

[ Serrure? Nico doesn’t know any Serrure. It’s not Greek, or Latin.

Demigod, then. That’s a relief, although there’s still absolutely a chance he could get turned into a pig here. Nico watches the orange juice fill itself up with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. ]

You can do magic, or is that something else?

[ Who’s your godly parent still isn’t the nicest question to ask people. She doesn’t look older than sixteen - she might not even know yet. But Demeter’s not fond of Hades, and her daughter Meg McCaffrey is an entire army. He just wants to know if he’s going to get kicked in the shins and attacked by a Karpos if he upsets her. ]

Magic!

[Loki holds up her hands, which then are surrounded by a glowing green energy. It's the easiest way to answer the question rather than saying yes, but. Finally realizing Nico's been staring at her lunch-breakfast this whole time, she adds,]

Did you want any?

[ Huh. That was easier than Nico thought it would be. Definitely one of the kids from the Hecate cabin, and nobody’s upset. He’ll have to remember Serrure. She’s okay. ]

Then how would I have room to eat this … food?

[ He indicates the plate that the teacher had left for him, dominated by its square of depressed-looking cafeteria “pizza” and bowl of ranch dressing which may or may not have lettuce-and-tomato salad underneath.

There’s a YooHoo box though. Nico starts freeing the straw to drink it. ]

The first tray was better, and this is how you know pudding cups are the upper echelon of lunch. The teacher didn’t give me another one.

Why don't you try this then?

[She waves her hand and his lunch is replaced with something much more appetizing, a full gourmet personal pizza that looks like it came straight from a commercial.

Except if he does bite into it, he'll find it tastes exactly like wet cardboard cafeteria pizza.]

Because I’ve heard every joke about Greeks bearing gifts from the demigods at Camp Jupiter?

[ But, if she’s going to be nice and fix his food, he’ll try it. It looks and smells great, and Nico doesn’t see anything inherently dangerous about it. It’s not like it’s pomegranate seeds.

So he takes a big bite, and, yeah. It’s bad. It’s got that Ellio’s Pizza mouth feel where the bottom of the dough is dry as toast and the top of the dough gooshes around your teeth like tapioca. It’s a chore to keep it in his mouth while he decides if he should spit it out. ]

Hm?

[None of those words mean anything. Well, they do, but not together. Still, her confusion is quickly replaced by a smirk as she watches his reaction.]

Anyways! Are you truly connected to some sort of pantheon? TBH, I assumed you were just an outspoken Pagan.

[ Bu- wha?? ]

You thought I was a pagan - but you’re speaking Attic Greek!

[ If there are other reasons to speak dead dialects, Nico isn’t aware of them. He’s loosely aware that Hellenism is still practiced by some mortals, but he’s never bothered with any of them. He could march an entire zombie phalanx past them: no one would notice. Why should he notice them? ]

You cast a spell on my lunch! I know you’re a - do you not know?

[ Concern snaps into place on his face. It’s safer to not know what you are. That sort of self awareness is like a beacon for every monster in a ten mile radius. ]

Who are your parents?

I'm a what?

[she says with feigned surprise, ignoring the question about parents.]

Regardless, if you believe I'm speaking Greek, that sounds like more of a you problem. I imagine most people here will process my words as being in English.

[ And now Nico’s ignoring that question to protect her, just in case. ]

How is that a me problem? What am I supposed to be processing it as if not Greek? And not English, and not Italian, and not Latin either.

If you think about it for a moment, it might shift. I've always wondered how it works for those fluent in multiple tongues... But theoretically, it should be whatever your native language is. So as I said, a you problem.

[Just normal high school lunchtime things!]

But what is “it?”

[ He’s going to take her advice and listen- listen while thinking in Italian, too. Nico’s heard the same explanation over and over, how demigod brains are hard-wired for Ancient Greek, but he’s never considered that meant Greek was his native tongue. ]

We are literally sitting in a superhero school, Nico di Angelo. "It" is one of my many powers, obviously.

[ This world is nothing but irritating people.

But she is speaking Italian now, or he thinks she is. It’s messing with his head, and Nico doesn’t like it. If the Mist that keeps mortals from seeing anything abnormal - gods, monsters, magic - doesn’t exist here, then why does this language twisting power work? And why does it work on him, when he’s so good at seeing through the Mist? It’s maddening! ]

And like I told the Alliance people, and the Atlanteans, and the truancy officer - I’m not a superhero! I’m a demigod, and I don’t need this stupid school to train me!

I use the word superhero because it's easier shorthand than saying this is a knock-off Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Whether or not anyone here is a hero remains to be seen.

[A demigod, though! That's fun! Presumably from the Greek pantheon, but just to make sure:]

Am I allowed to ask you who your parents are? Or is this interrogation purely one-sided?

I don’t know what that is.

[ Much like how Serrure showed no recognition of Camp Jupiter, Nico doesn’t react to the knockoff Xavier’s reference. Pity.

He does hesitate on the lineage though. It never goes well, but he’s aware that a quid pro quo will get him more answers about magic. It’s a fair trade, and it would be hard to never say anyway. ]

My father is Hades.

[ He says it like a challenge, because he’s expecting the flinch and mistrust that he sees in everyone. So he flies in teeth of it.

And that is all he’ll give. His mother isn’t up for discussion. ]

[She claps her hands together at that. Twinsies!]

I'm the father of Hela.

[A challenge right back.]

[ She’ll find no judgment here - not for being the father of Hela. Maybe a little for being a Norse god, because it’s trouble every time the pantheons mix.

Nico doesn’t know much about the Norse and Egyptian gods. He knows their around, knows the Norse demigods don’t go to the Underworld when they die. And the father of Hela is… Loki. ]

The bad pizza mirage makes more sense now. When you started talking in Greek, I thought you might be Artemis in a new aspect.

[ He wants credit for considering god as a possibility. ]

Did you really? Do I look like an Artemis?

[She seems flattered by that. Artemis is good, after all, compared to Loki.]

Either way, I'll make your pizza into worse if you tell. It's more useful to be Serrure here.

You don’t not look like an Artemis?

[ Nico has no idea what Artemis truly looks like. The gods can appear how they like, and their divine forms are essentially deadly to humans and demigods alike. He shrugs. ]

Zeus has been a swan.

I won’t tell if you don’t. People get stupid about Hades. They don’t like thinking about death, so the Underworld is evil instead of necessary, and a couple of skeletons gets you an escort to the school bus.

As I've been a horse.

[She hopes that someone her age won't make the embarrassing jokes about it. Which is a lot to hope, but it seems easier to trust a son of Hades.]

My past self is literally the God of Evil, so I understand.

At least that’s your choice. Persephone turned me into a dandelion once. She could’ve done something with poisonous thorns, but no. A yellow flower.

[ He’s head to toe in black with a flaming skull t-shirt. The injustice of it all.

Nico’s curious. The Greek gods have modernized quite a bit to reflect the current world. Sometimes, it makes sense - he’s pretty sure Iris would claim being the goddess of cell phones. Sometimes, it’s tragic, like Pan fading out of existence with no wild left to be god of. This might be the first time he’s heard a god speak of a past self. ]

What are you the god of now?

They're not flowers. They're weeds.

[Whether she means that as compliment is hard to tell.]

Mischief, as he once was. Though I hear I'll also be partial to stories in the future.

They’re hard to kill, and they choke out the other plants.

[ Nico grins sharply. He knows that Persephone probably picked it because they’re weeds and common, but he’s found a way to make it a compliment. Dealing with the rest of the pantheon is tricky at best - Nico is (currently) living proof of his father’s affair. ]

Gods aren’t great with other people’s kids. “Tolerated” is good.

[ Huh. Mischief fits. Stories, he’s not so sure where that fits into anything. Don’t they have Muses for that? ]

Mischief sounds like the real one. Evil sounds like when people think Hades is the god of death instead of Thanatos. Or - are the Norse gods like the Greeks? Rome made Jupiter the god of wealth, so my dad’s Roman aspect is… different. More respectable. Do you get to pick what you want to be?

Some Top-Level Ideas:

Let’s go with it defaults to Greek, that’s fun

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