Jarrod. Grandson of Caffeina and member of the first cohort, which basically means that people expect me to be an example of Romaness. But I've got better thing to do! Like... making balloon animals!
Other Space (2015) - 1x02 - “Everything Chad has said since he appeared on this ship has been a direct quotation from legendary actor, philanthropist and naturalist, Matthew McConaughey.“
Oh, darling, I can’t stand it
When you look at me that way
I feel the earth move under my feet
I feel the sky tumbling down
I feel my heart start to trembling
Whenever you’re around
3. What do you think about your mun’s significant other or their crush?
Well I wouldn’t be putting my hand in the fire for one if I didn’t think she could make us happy. I honestly really don’t worry all that much about the competition. No matter who gets through to him will either way break or make us. If we do end up with the wrong person then that’s one competitor less and one experience more.
6. Is your mun a nice person?
Sure, he can be. You just don’t need to expect him to be.
19. What do you think about your mun’s sense of humor?
I like it. A smile doesn’t need a reason to exist. Everything can be funny. After all everything can be tragic as well, so it’s only fair.
20. What is something you think your mun could change about themselves?
He could learn to prioritize. Lately he’s been acting like the things that society forces him to do are the same things he needs to do. Even though he fully comprehends the importance of the things he wants to do.
Run boy run! This ride is a journey to
Run boy run! The secret inside of you
Run boy run! This race is a prophecy
Run boy run! And disappear in the trees
He wasn't lost, to be lost you needed somewhere to go to in the fistlace. Jarrod just didn't know where he was. That was okay. The mystery was a happy relief. Some might say that knowledge was power, but to Jarrod knowledge was weight. He didn't need anymore weight on his shoulders than he already had, no thank you. He liked to think he left it all behind in Camp Jupiter, though if he had to be honest with himself he would have to acknowledge that he was still dragging the entire sky with him. The sky and the voices. Sometimes, when he would run faster, they would disappear. But even with his great stamina he couldn't run forever. His feet were sore, blisters covering his heel and toes. Every uncounted day was getting harder. Every evening he would collapse a little sooner than the one before. Every night the voices would penetrate his brain deeper, their radio cracking slowly turning into a deciphered code with every passing second.
"Crsh. Yes. Crsh. He died a few moments ago. Crsh Crsh"
Jarrod jumped up from his sleep, looking left and right in an attempt to find the source of the sound. Pieces of dirt flew around as they came loose from were the boy had so gracefully rested his head on the ground.
"Crsh Crsh. He's on the list. You can send him throu-"
"Who is there?!"
The legacy's voice sounded shrill in comparison to the thick darkness around him. Somewhere on a nearby road a car drove by. Apart from that: nothing. Complete silence. Not even a bird or a bug to belt out a song for the moon. Not a breeze or whiff to make the leaves around him dance. Silence. Until...
"Crsh. Crsh. Do you copy?"
This time the legacy's head didn't zigzag-around aimlessly. It shot directly towards some far away bushes. Somehow it was clear to him where the source of the sound came from, his eyes narrowing as he tried to recognize anything in between the darkness.
"Hello?"
As he slowly came closer he slid his backpack off and put the straps around his arms. With a swiftly muttered 'mutationis' the fabric transformed into a leather and imperial gold scutum. The shield was heavy, and Jarrod preferred to keep it in it's lighter (and snack-filled) form. Still, as he unsheathed his sword with his free hand he was glad for all the protection it could give. He was genre savvy enough to know that following an unknown voice into the deep dark forest usually wasn't the best idea. Of course he did it anyway, making thoughtful decisions were a sign he was still bound by the logic and rules of the world around him. Better to die a fool than to live a live suffering.
"Hello-o?"
Maybe he was just going crazy. Hearing voices was crazy. But then again Steven said there was nothing insane in his head. But maybe the son of Dionysus had lied to keep his friend in a happy illusion of sanity. Maybe Augusta was rubbing of on him and was Ira-crazy undetectable for people who work with Dionysus-crazy. Maybe he shouldn't spend so much attention on theories when he was walking in the dark so he, for example, wouldn't fall on his face when the ground would suddenly slope down into a river. Of course this a a scenario that didn't happen. It's not like he almost broke his arm bringing himself to a halt. It's not like his sword dropped into the water. No. Not at all. Well... maybe a little.
With a muffled curse the boy made his way down to the river, careful not to fall on his face again. The water was dark and slimy, and no sign of imperial gold could be found. He probably should've brought a flash-light, but then again that would mean less space for potato chips. A man had to have his priorities. For many minutes he searched, slumping over like an old lady with both hands in the mud in the hope to find his weapon. It was to no avail. What he did notice after a few minutes, however, where a few ridges in the mud. Like a track left by a car that had run though the river. Only there was only one track, plus it was about half a meter wide. Maybe it was like a giant unicycle. Yes, he figured he liked that idea. The sound that suddenly erupted from the other side of the river didn't sound like a unicycle though. It was more like... a horse. A very hysteric horse, to be exact. Maybe It were the years of 'hero-training', maybe it was some underlying subconscious horse-lover inside of him, anyhow: Jarrod started running. (Again? Really? When will this boy stop?)
It wasn't long until he found the source of the panic. The Scene at the end of the trail was pretty panic worthy, actually. A giant white snake- No WORM, slowly made it's way towards what seemed to be a foal caught into something golden. As the legacy came closer the creature suddenly turned it's head towards him. It must have been at least 3 meters and it ginormous mouth looked like it could swallow an adult cow, even though it only had 2 teeth. The foal struggled again, whining loudly as it's eyes turned in their sockets. Jarrod watched the creature turn it's attention back on the easier pray. He lifted his hand to slam his sword into his shield to distract it, to create a diversion. It took him three seconds to realize he had lost his sword in the river... oops. Well then, plan B: pretend to be the horse yourself. His imitations skills weren't the best, he sounded more like a drowning squirrel than a foal, but at least it seemed to get the monster's attention back on Jarrod. Great. Faster than the legacy could have ever expected it turned around and raced at the boy, who could only dodge just in time. Quickly he turned around, looking for something he that might be of any use as a weapon. What did he even know about this creature? It was a... vermus, vermuk, something like that? Lived in rivers, obviously, and liked to eat stuff. Great.
"Hey you little rotter, want a piece of this?"
The worm answered with the sound of styrofoam being rubbed against styrofoam. Jarrod flinched and ducked, bringing his shield up as the worm shot forward with mouth wide as it went for the boy's shoulder. The imperial gold slammed against the white flesh with more force then the legacy could have anticipated and he felt himself get flung into the air. Wind swept by as heaven and earth turned, the stars winking at him as his heavy body rejoined with the ground bellow. His head hit the dirt, hard. Dazed he noticed his shield was still on his arm. Good, he stood up quickly but fell over again almost instantly. The world was a ship rocking back and fort in a storm, and the worm was the kraken. Slowly making it's way over to the boy with not a trouble in the world. It's slow pace seemed to dare him to stand up again, to fight the nausea for a second only to fall over again. He didn't do any of that.
If there was anything camp Jupiter taught him it was how to wait. Neural jing. How to sit out a nasty situation and wait for the right moment to strike. And compared to months of legion those few short seconds were a piece of cake. Adrenaline in his veins broke time down into fragments, in slow motion he saw how the worm opened his mouth ready to swallow him whole. He could see how the muscles in it's throat retracted to prepare for the snack an then... he thrust. Well "thrusting"... more like he threw himself into the creature's mouth, shield first. Saliva rolled over him as it screamed in the same styrofoam-ish pitch when the imperial golden corners of the shield tore into it's flesh from the inside. Warm clouds of rotting breath flooded over Jarrod as he felt the monster throat spasm around him. He moved his shield around as much as possible so he could do as much damage as possible. Add that to the worm swaying around in pain and the fact that the legacy's head was still spinning and you had like a little disco, but than inside a monster. The whole experience was so overwhelming that he even though he fainted because all he knew was that one moment he was being swallowed and the next: poof. No monster, just some dust flying through the air as he fell to the ground.
He blinked, his shield was still in his arm thought he metal was wrenched by the immense force of the creature's throat. It didn't even vaguely matter. He felt more more sadness for the chips that got lost than for the shield that had stood at his side through so many battles. He had given up so many things already a few days ago, a little more or little less wouldn't make any difference. He could've stood there being an over dramatic angsty homeless person for forever if it wasn't for the foal to bicker again. In seconds Jarrod came to his senses and walked back to the trapped animal. With every step he regained more control until the world didn't shift as much. Though shifting it did when he got back to tiny horse, as he now realized that instead of it being caught in a golden net it was actually covered with golden feathers.
Why can we never go back to bed?
Whose is the voice ringing in my head?
Where is the sense in these desperate dreams?
Why should I wake when I’m half past dead?
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