Post by Penthesilea Jones on May 5, 2010 11:45:15 GMT -6
Winter sunlight filtered through the edges of the smog that layered the sky from the direction of New York. Within the camp, the air was warm and bright at all times, but out here, just out of reach of the boundary, the real weather held sway. It was pretty quiet though, calm, peaceful even, until you heard the crashing sound approach.
With a noise like a warcry but something akin to a yelp too, Penthesilea leapt out of the undergrowth, twisting in mid air, bringing her javelin swinging around. A moment later, a hideous creature leapt after her, its clawed arm swiping away the javelin's blade, it's foul, poison-tinted breath making breathing impossible, even before its full weight descended on her as she hit the floor, her shoulders sinking into the mud.
Penny rolled, pushing the beast sideways. Her muscles were screaming, and she was panting hard, fighting the urge to retch from the creature's stink.
The beast roared, the sound shaking the very trees around them as the chimera prepared to pounce on her once again. It did not, because even while the serpent tail lashed in preparation, another roar sounded, and from the direction of the road came a shining black monster.
Not a monster, a black '67 Chevrolet Impala, which hit the lion-goat-snake side on and sent it heaving through the air. Penny leapt up again, cramping her stomach muscles as she flipped from her back to her feet. Running forward, she drove her javelin through the creature's maw, drew an ugly hunting knife from her belt that looked more like a machete had mated with an athame than something made by man, and slammed the blade into the twisting snake.
The chimera bellowed, struggling to regenerate, but then the driver of the Chevy pumped two rounds of shot from his sawn-off, right into the goat-body, and the defeated beast evaporated, leaving grime, poison and stink behind.
"Oh my gods," the driver, a man with golden hair and a horrified expression. "Baby...darling...are you all right?"
Penny dropped to the floor, cleaning her knife on the grass before resheathing it. She didn't answer. He wasn't talking to her.
"Di immortales," he said, sounding truly distressed, leaning over the bonnet of his car and stroking the slightly crumpled surface where he'd hit the animal.
"She'll be fine," Penny reassured him. Her accent was out of place here, on this continent. It had the short, sharp stacato of northern London, a longer, lilting sound of the welsh valleys, and only occasionally, a Texas twang her companion had landed her with. "And we're right by camp, there'll be a dozen or so Hephaestus campers who'll help you get her good as new."
"Yeah I know," he got back into the driver's seat. "Still purring like a champ, ain't she!"
Penny patted the bonnet of the car.
"Yuh huh," she replied, getting into the passenger side. "Let's get her covered with some tarp, and we'll head on up to camp."
Now the monster was defeated, she flicked the radio back on, as Danny put the car into drive and took her slowly over the grass. Immediately, the crashing chords of ACDC's Back in Black started up again. She carefully put a small metal tube into her pocket. It was about four inches long, and looked a bit like something that might be a cigar case, or a novelty lighter. It was in fact her javelin, in its less conspicuous form.
Slowly, she began to grin, because there was nothing like killing a monster to put you in a good mood, except possibly going back to camp for the first time in years.
Look at me now, just a-makin' my way...don't try to push your luck, JUST GET OUT OF MY WAY COS I'M BACK!
With a noise like a warcry but something akin to a yelp too, Penthesilea leapt out of the undergrowth, twisting in mid air, bringing her javelin swinging around. A moment later, a hideous creature leapt after her, its clawed arm swiping away the javelin's blade, it's foul, poison-tinted breath making breathing impossible, even before its full weight descended on her as she hit the floor, her shoulders sinking into the mud.
Penny rolled, pushing the beast sideways. Her muscles were screaming, and she was panting hard, fighting the urge to retch from the creature's stink.
The beast roared, the sound shaking the very trees around them as the chimera prepared to pounce on her once again. It did not, because even while the serpent tail lashed in preparation, another roar sounded, and from the direction of the road came a shining black monster.
Not a monster, a black '67 Chevrolet Impala, which hit the lion-goat-snake side on and sent it heaving through the air. Penny leapt up again, cramping her stomach muscles as she flipped from her back to her feet. Running forward, she drove her javelin through the creature's maw, drew an ugly hunting knife from her belt that looked more like a machete had mated with an athame than something made by man, and slammed the blade into the twisting snake.
The chimera bellowed, struggling to regenerate, but then the driver of the Chevy pumped two rounds of shot from his sawn-off, right into the goat-body, and the defeated beast evaporated, leaving grime, poison and stink behind.
"Oh my gods," the driver, a man with golden hair and a horrified expression. "Baby...darling...are you all right?"
Penny dropped to the floor, cleaning her knife on the grass before resheathing it. She didn't answer. He wasn't talking to her.
"Di immortales," he said, sounding truly distressed, leaning over the bonnet of his car and stroking the slightly crumpled surface where he'd hit the animal.
"She'll be fine," Penny reassured him. Her accent was out of place here, on this continent. It had the short, sharp stacato of northern London, a longer, lilting sound of the welsh valleys, and only occasionally, a Texas twang her companion had landed her with. "And we're right by camp, there'll be a dozen or so Hephaestus campers who'll help you get her good as new."
"Yeah I know," he got back into the driver's seat. "Still purring like a champ, ain't she!"
Penny patted the bonnet of the car.
"Yuh huh," she replied, getting into the passenger side. "Let's get her covered with some tarp, and we'll head on up to camp."
Now the monster was defeated, she flicked the radio back on, as Danny put the car into drive and took her slowly over the grass. Immediately, the crashing chords of ACDC's Back in Black started up again. She carefully put a small metal tube into her pocket. It was about four inches long, and looked a bit like something that might be a cigar case, or a novelty lighter. It was in fact her javelin, in its less conspicuous form.
Slowly, she began to grin, because there was nothing like killing a monster to put you in a good mood, except possibly going back to camp for the first time in years.
Look at me now, just a-makin' my way...don't try to push your luck, JUST GET OUT OF MY WAY COS I'M BACK!
