Tristan Damaris

Tristan sat in a vacant workbench, surrounded by a variety of materials and enchanting tools. He had been honing his spell work and potions until now but he hasn't really worked on enchanted items aside from helping out Cabin Nine with their weapons. He did think about doing the same to his rapier but that would be for another time. Today, he had a unique project in mind—a bag that could store more than it appeared. With a mischievous smile, he began his work. The bag he was crafting was deceptively ordinary in appearance, designed to blend seamlessly with everyday items. He took sewing classes in this area so he was confident in making this happen.

As he sewed and stitched, Tristan focused his thoughts on the enchantment he planned to weave into the fabric. He envisioned a pocket dimension hidden within, a space that could expand far beyond the bag's modest exterior. His fingers danced with practiced precision, imbuing each stitch with a touch of Hecate's magic. He incorporated special runes into the lining of the bag, carefully etching them with a magical pen. These runes acted as the key to unlocking the bag's expanded storage capacity. Tristan's mind teemed with excitement as he contemplated the possibilities this enchanted bag would offer- Ouch! He had accidentally poked himself and he quickly reacted to gently suck on his thumb. @ TJ Gardner

The room emanated a warm and cozy ambiance, with thoughtful details and tasteful furnishings. The walls of the room are painted in soothing earthy tones, such as soft taupe, warm beige, and gentle pastels. These colors create a serene atmosphere and provide a versatile backdrop for the room's decor. The focal point of the room is a comfortable queen-sized bed adorned with quality linens and cozy blankets. The bedframe is elegant, though not extravagant, crafted from solid wood with subtle embellishments. Soft, plush pillows invited him to relax and unwind which he is currently doing at this moment.

A sturdy wooden dresser stands against one wall, offering ample storage space for his belongings. A matching bedside table sits beside the bed, housing a simple reading lamp and an alarm clock. A small writing desk with a comfortable chair is placed near the window, creating a cozy nook for reading or working. A modest-sized television is placed on a simple TV stand, offering access to a variety of entertainment options. A compact stereo system sits on a shelf while a selection of books or magazines is thoughtfully placed on a nearby shelf. If he wanted, he could stay in here for hours. There's a door to his left and he could only assume that's a bathroom.

"Sorry, I just did not know what to say. I'm grateful that you are doing this, really," he paused, "You said a week, right? I'm not really sure since I've never been out here so why don't we go with your itinerary and we can go with mine tomorrow? I'd like to explore your interests first if that's alright with you."

Tristan had some things in mind he could do in the trip. One of the first things was getting a mobile phone. He's aware that those things are prohibited in camp and he could get in trouble for bringing one in. He just wanted to see what it is like to use one. Not much was said about it, but he heard he could connect to the "Internet" supposedly invested by Hermes. Considering the god's symbolism, that might be the case. And then, he could be find without one. After all, he lived all of his life without one. Then, a familiar sight interrupted his train of thought. A beautiful woman walked up to him to give him a hug and he, of course, hugged her back. 

That woman's name is Asher Harrington.

"Well, the old ladies gave me a scare. They think they're smart enough when their driving can be on the reckless side. It's like I needed to rush when I did not have to," he chuckled, "That, I can tell you, I quite am. I've been looking forward to it since you mentioned it. After you achieved umbrakinesis, I figured this would be your big break as well. I know you have that big girl job but sometimes you need to relax and take the day off." It was a bit ironic, considering some of his days makes him look like a workaholic. He was simply dedicated to his craft, maybe even as much as her, but there are times when they are no different like staying up all night to achieve the results they wanted.

The two of them went inside the building with Asher acting as a tour guide. It was big. Bigger than the home he used to be in before he arrived at camp. It'll be like a luxury living in here and he could understand why Asher chose to be a summer-only camper. Tristan walked around briskly, admiring the interior of her home. His bedroom was even more fantastic. Even though he had one, this one had better natural lighting. Setting aside his suitcase, he fell down on the sheets and made a like an imaginary snowman.

The cab was driven by a trio of old women, but he wasn't exactly reassured with their driving after hearing some stories about them. Yet it was the only way since he didn't have any cash money on his person. He only rode this cab twice, with the first being several years ago before he arrived at camp. All he could remember was that they drove fast, somehow evading the other cars like it was second nature. And soon enough, they were already entering the streets of Manhattan. Tristan looked whatever was beyond the windows of the cab - bustling street activity, restaurants, and cars even though they were just a blur to him. Tristan had never really been here before and somehow the Gray Sisters knew that. Could they slow down a bit so the blur becomes clear?

The cab made a sudden stop to a structure that seemed to be taller than the other, nearly colliding his head to the behind of the front seat. They made it to his destination but all he could think about was meeting his big half-sister. She's been more or less vague with details of her life outside of camp but owning a penthouse has given him an idea of her style of living. After he grabbed his suitcase from the trunk, the vehicle shortly drove back into the streets and disappeared not a moment later. Dressed such an attire, he thought it was best to go with casual for now. Tristan held his suitcase to his side, waiting for her to come and pick him up.

Tristan can be found in a small group of campers enjoying a leisure chat with topics bordering on camp drama and the the upcoming activities that will be held later this year. He may not seem like it, but he loved hearing some of them dish out some rumors surrounding certain campers. It was for mere entertainment and information without having to approach for the details and formality. Once it was his turn, he had told them that he had been spending more time in potion making and having some of the Demeter kids grow healing and poisonous herbs for materials. After that transfiguration experiment somewhat became a success, he chose to focus on another area in the meantime. One of the campers had asked to make a potion with similar effects to ambrosia but the idea was far fetched as it would take the gods' knowledge.

But as soon as the marshmallows were being passed around, he excused himself from the good and stood from afar. He wanted to use this spell for a while in this setting, given his excitement in his grin. With a gesture of a hand, a bag of marshmallows appeared in his hand and he grabbed a handful before returning it where it was before it disappeared. He could hear some of the gasps from the campers as he made his way back to the bonfire and grabbed a stick so he could roast his keep.

Tristan would not have gone to the bonfire without his half-siblings threatening him to use a pig ball on him if he refused. He did not want to be looking like a pig for the entire night so he hesitantly agreed and halted his spell craft. He was in the middle of reading up on runes and how to make his spells stronger or weaker depending on the effects of it. Like how to make a fire more intense or how to spread the range of an icy wind. He has been dabbling on elementals recently, but he knew those spells would not be as powerful as a natural demigod's powers. But say, maybe he wanted to start a huge fire or freeze the entire lake for some ice skating. It is what he helped did last year but he wanted to accomplish the task by himself. Was it greedy? One could argue that, but he insisted on getting more powerful on his own.

Well, one night won't suffice anyway when he was just going to resume his activities right after the claiming. Tristan drew a soft breath before putting on a smiley face and began interacting with some of the campers that had passed by. Based on the intel, five new campers came to camp this spring. Well, Cabin 20 was probably one of the more crowded cabins now but he wouldn't mind convincing a new Hecate child that they're a demigod wizard. 

Tristan simply couldn't wait.

He and Asher had bonded over their umbrakinesis practice sessions. He doesn't really talk much to his other half siblings but the Harrington twins seemed to have bring him much delight ever since meeting them. After helping her achieve this power, he continued to write letters to her since she doesn't spend much time in camp but rather in a company which she has hinted that she owns. Maybe it's her way of humbling herself, but the fact that she could let him crash in their penthouse is something he hadn't expect to do since arriving in camp. He slept early and packed his belongings rather excitedly in the dawn, while most of his siblings are asleep from staying up too late. He had placed an excursion request in the Big House weeks before, letting them know he'll be gone the week of Christmas and will come back shortly after New Years.

Tristan walked up Half-Blood Hill and turned to look back at the valley before smiling. I'll be back, he thought, and proceeded to walk to the main road. Dropping a drachma to the pavement, he shouted,

Stêthi, Ô hárma diabolês!

A few moments later, a taxi that looked as if it were made from smoke appeared from the ground and he hopped on. A piece of paper was given to one of the sisters he had prepared in advance which has Asher's address. "That one please." He requested, and the vehicle drove off. @ Asher Harrington

Oh, right. He had placed a charm on his vision to help him in his search for the potion ingredient.

Still, he was not going to let him leave empty handed. "Why don't you keep that with you? You are going to need it to find your way back to the Nemesis Cabin without difficulty. Consider it a temporary gift from me." Lips curled into a smirk, he gave the spine of his potions textbook a firm squeeze. Tristan had worked around ways he could stay up at night past curfew, having been doing this for more nights than he could count. Most of the time, he can be found honing his spell craft and diving into his potions work. Others, he might have worked up the courage to fight monsters himself at the Forest with healing potions. He'd rather not have ambrosia with him when he wasn't going beyond the camp's borders.

"I have just the spell for that. An Invisibility Spell. It's much easier for me to hold in since it's dark, but I can handle myself. I appreciate the concern." He waved bye at him, shortly before he turned invisible after muttering in Latin. And he wasn't seen and heard again after tonight. 

Tristan knew he was not going to make up with that dryad, but it wasn't his business to pry into his interpersonal relationships. Or other people's, knowing it would be bothersome. Ibram was being reticent but as long as he wielded his words correctly, he could find out a bit more why. He thought he might be slick putting it that way, but he had a feeling that there is more than he let on. "That's not how you want to communicate, dude. The other dryads could see you as a red flag. You don't want to get a plate of bad food for dinner, no? They might tweak it so that the contents will taste bad." He decided to give him a bit of scolding which usually works when someone is attempting to weasel themselves out of a particular situation they might have caused a dilemma in.

Reasserting one's opinion by yelling? Seriously?

He thought Ibram was out of his mind, but it's about time he goes back to his search. Tristan knew he had been here long enough and elected to search somewhere else. "I'll go somewhere else, so we should part ways for now. Even if one of us gets caught, at least either one of us won't be caught either. I'll see you around, Ibram?"

Tristan thought about it for a moment, taking a short pause from his search. Ibram seemed to be doing the same as well, except he was looking back at the lake now. He was not going to give him just because he could not find the last potion ingredient needed to make the brew. Yet after listening to his story, it felt like they had reached another dead end. He crossed his arms. "I think you should talk to her. It's better to air things out instead of bottling them in. What happened to letting your thoughts out?" He was referring to that little pep talk he gave him just minutes ago but it seemed like it was an entirely different matter with the wood nymph in question. All they have now is a name. He drew a sigh. "Let me know if you talked things out with her. I'd prefer not to make an enemy of a dryad here."

He resumed his search in the lake shore, steps slowly touching the ground to inspect it. Once it was clear, it was free for him to step on. Tristan gave glances to the text where the recipe was laid out, determined to find this reagent as soon as he can. He was considering on wrapping up, but he didn't want to tire out in front of Ibram. He seemed the type to be committed to a task unless it is completed. "Why did you guys argue anyway? Dryads don't really have a bone to pick with us... and I don't take you for a litterer." 

"I sent it in the recycling bin. Some people should really be more conscious of the environment here. They are living here after all."

Tristan had casted a unique spell that could transport objects from one place to another, a useful tool so he wouldn't do the labor. He could also make objects appear out of thin air as well just as long as the object exists. Sure, he was just showing off. What's the harm in having the flash? Speaking of, this would be also useful if he wanted to have a trash day and pick up objects that don't belong in nature. It was actually one of the required chores, but some campers chose to do the job half-heartedly. "I don't think the dryads are capable of doing that... but it might be possible if the camper in question litters often. If anything, you might be referring to the Demeter children. They have a penchant for partaking in environmental-friendly practices."

"Hmm, I haven't. Do you think they are willing to help out a demigod?" Tristan was unsure. All he knew was that they work as waitresses during mealtimes and are contenders in running races. Then again, he is partly to blame for not asking them to lend a hand. "You seemed like you asked for their help before. Name one of them." He was curious to know just so he could refer to him when he mentions the wood nymph in question. They're not entirely approachable for him, but he could work up the courage to ask.

Tristan did not know what to think of at first when he had arrived here. All he knew was that he would be safe from the monsters that had attacked him at his birthday party and definitely safe from his stepmother. No more shouting from her. No more hitting. And not a place he could call home except this one. He resented his mother for a while after learning she was his actual mother who caused his family to be torn apart but his father is also one to blame for having a one-night stand with her. It took some time and convincing from other campers, but maybe if his father was still alive, he would be happy to know he could perform real magic which surmounts to any effect he may have intended. He didn't know potions can be brewed as well or even the shadows to be controlled.

"It's okay. I have mulled it over more times than I could remember." And that he did.

He was a bit satisfied he could show off some of his ability to another camper but this is simply for helping him look for something in the dark. Tristan had helped many campers with his power ranging from transfiguration, cosmetics, bags that have more space than they seem, elementals, and some form of levitation. He was still currently learning how to fly, a complex subject he would need time to study and practice. And even then, it's more difficult to do it during the day. His eyes noticed something that gleamed from the ground. They narrowed into slits as he approached the small object that was somewhat covered in the soil. "I think I found something." He quickly pulled it out and all hope was gone from his frown.

"It's just an empty can. The dryads won't like this." He threw it up in the air and it disappeared with a poof into thin air.

Tristan had his doubts with the young man's answer when he was okay with taking no for an answer. Instead, he said he'll think about it so it wasn't a yes or a no. It turned out to be an answer he isn't so fond of, one that keeps him in suspense until he was given a different one or when he asks at a later time. Thinking about it now, it was more polite to give him some time to give him a proper answer when he won't know what would happen of he drank his concoction. Right, it is better this way. Maybe he did want to keep the drachma just so he could Iris-message someone, take the Gray Sisters' cab in New York City, or send packages through the Hermes Express. They all sounded practical and there might be one day when he needed the token to pay.

When he asked about his mother, he was right in that no camper has met their god parents as far as he knew. Everyone was left to fend for themselves while getting help from satyrs, whom don't stay very long as soon as the child is covered with the safety of the camp's magical borders. He had already come to terms with the circumstances surrounding his birth so he wouldn't hold back. "I have not. In a way, she ruined my family when she met my father. I do wish I could have a one and one chat with her sometimes. I like the life here so far. It's much better than the one I had before I arrived at this place."

Tristan stood up from the lakeshore, making slow steps while inspecting the soil. He activated a night vision spell on himself and Ibram without warning so he could look for it without having to squint his eyes or push his head closer to the floor. "Surprised? Just a charm. It's not harmful to you, but it should make you see better in the dark. Can't rely on the moon light when it doesn't reach everywhere."

Tristan could understand the humor behind his words, but it also made sure that this potion has to be perfect. He found the instructions on the textbook and simply followed them to the T. He hadn't done this brew before and preferred not to test it out on another camper. Maybe an animal would suffice. A soft chuckle parted his lips followed by a deep breath after. The lengths he would go through just to earn his keep. Perhaps it would have been better to refuse payment that day, afraid that he would mess up and that camper would tell people how he deliberately messed up his concoctions. He preferred to avoid that sort of PR. "Sure thing. I'll let you know. Though... I have a favor to ask. You are free to decline."

"Do you want to volunteer to drink the potion when I'm done with it? I want to make sure the intended effects of the brew is all there. I prefer to keep my drachma."

Listening to his words fit exactly how he contemplates whenever he was left alone with his thoughts. He'd usually think about his family. His father. His siblings. And then his stepmother. Even though his siblings survived that ordeal, she would still treat him as if he was not her own. It may not get worse, but it's still maltreatment all together. When the stone sunk into the lake, Tristan's thoughts were interrupted and was given the young man's name and an offer for help in his search. It made him smile.

"You are welcome to do that. What we're looking for is an ingredient that can only be seen in the moonlight. The book didn't specify what it looked like... but my mother has a penchant for challenging her children." 

Tristan was surprised to hear such comforting words from a man he had just met, but he was glad he did. It was something he did not think he needed, but it somehow felt different from him. He would usually be the one to comfort himself when he shies away from getting too close to a camper, not letting himself care too much for the person. It was... better than nothing. He nodded his head. "Thanks. And he was not hesitant to give me a drachma so it really seemed like he wanted to drink the potion for himself..." He was somewhat against turning a person into something else but he could not deny that he may have a use for that token later on. He set a gaze on the potions book next to him, wondering if Hecate came up with these recipes in her head. As far as he knew, a child of Athena had built Cabin 20 so the books had to come from somewhere, but he gave up on getting an answer for that.

"It's no problem. I sometimes do it when I'm alone with my thoughts. Gets my head thinking." Tristan often thought about new spells to try out when he is here or what sort of things he can do with his magic during the day. He has tried tarot card reading... but he thought it was better to leave it to some of his siblings he heard has done that. Much of the thought process with his powers comes from Harry Potter, but he wouldn't let it get in the way of Greek mythology. Not a wizard, but a demigod. Son of Hecate. No wizard is a son of a Greek god. The thought made him smirk.

"I gotta get back to my search for that ingredient so may I know your name? I'd like to address you when I see you again. I'm Tristan."

"I was making a polecat potion for a camper. He wanted to be a polecat for a day. Not sure what made him decide to do that though." Tristan had seen the guy several times before but has not really spoke to him until recently. After his little transfiguration experiment became a success, the boy elected to place his confidence on him. He was going to politely refuse until he placed a drachma in his hand and he went straight to work soon after. He just needed one last ingredient, knowing that this particular one would take some time to find. The thought of making it a business crossed his mind for a moment until the boy in front of him mentioned medicine. He was not too far off. "You're not wrong. There are brews capable of healing injuries, but they could never compare to the ambrosia."

"There may be a time when someone on a quest doesn't have the nectar. That is when they can make use of pre-made potions. Most of the time, I don't know how my creations taste like so I often ask someone brave enough to be my test subject or an animal. I still have a plan to reverse the effects if that's any reassuring." He slowly drew a deep sigh, somewhat with melancholy. "Potions... is a delicate subject. I sort of wish it is more like seeing fireworks out of a cauldron."

"So you want to pick a light stone that is smaller than the size of your palm. Like this." Tristan went down to pick one up and demonstrated to him on how to hold it. "Hold the stone between your thumb and middle finger, with your thumb on top, and your index finger hooked along the edge. You do know how to throw a frisbee right? It is like that, but reverse your throw. Cock your wrist back before you give it a good flick. You also want to throw at an upwards angle so that the rock can skip farther."

Normally, he would be honing his magic at this time of the night but he figured he could spend this time with potions. Some of his siblings just wanted to do magic, others wanted just potions... he elected to do a bit of both. It also reminds him of how wizards make potions in Harry Potter and the thirteen year old Tristan thought it was a good idea to start on it because of that. Now, it seemed a bit more complicated when the one ingredient he was here for is affected by the time of day. If he was lucky, he could find it right now. "Oh, this? No, it's a potions recipe book. I also have my notebook with me for note taking when I do the brewing. I use it to record observations and results, or any information that isn't straight out of the text." It was clear that he takes his craft seriously, but there are also times when he made one of the wilder creations and the cauldron ended up spewing fireworks. Some of his siblings made note of that and made sure to avoid him when he's working on some mystery brew.

"A certain potion ingredient brings me here. The book said 'under the cover of the night', whatever that means." There was a slight annoyance in his tone. "It would help if a location was specified but... that's what my notebook is for. To write down locations where I found this or that reagent."

Tristan watched as the young man threw the rock into the water, which sunk into it with a slight plop. Was he attempting to skip it? He wouldn't know. Anyone would have done the same thing for fun or out of frustration. Still, he wanted to ask. "Hey, were you trying to skip that just now? I could teach you how to do it. If you want."

Tristan's eyes narrowed a bit when he had trouble making out where that voice came from, almost surprised that someone was actually nearby. He preferred to be alone in his little search for potion ingredients and now with his thoughts, but somehow the company of another became reassuring. The young man approached him as the moon lit his cocoa skin and he could finally see where that voice came from. His book was still propped open and held with his hand, intent that he was going to read it if that camper's stay here was going to be short.

A soft chuckle parted his lips. "Right. No monster."

Though now that he has a closer look at him, he could have sworn he had seen him before from one of his people watching sessions. He seemed to be a somewhat of an uptight guy, seeing him walk in a designated route in similar times of day. It seemed like he took his camp schedule seriously.

Tristan shifted so he could sit in a cross-legged position, making himself comfortable if he was interested in talking.

"Do you visit this place often? I suppose one might be attracted to the moon light." But it was past curfew and the both of them could get caught, but it didn't matter when they are already out here. 

There's always something special about night time, and no one knew this better than the children of Hecate. His mother is the goddess of the night, he's spent more nights in camp awake than asleep, leaving his cabin around midnight for long walks spent wandering around the place, getting to know it his own way. He's gotten used to seeing the surface of the lake rippled with silvery moonlight, used to marveling at the dark velvet sky speckled with stars a thousand times brighter than at home, and, though he'll refuse to admit it, he's been spending more and more time near the lake, almost growing fond of the place.

This night wasn't too different than most, with a couple of hours spent tossing and turning, sleep just out of grasp, and like usual, Tristan found himself wandering the camp, hoping that he wasn't caught be the harpies, until he reaches the lake, which is as dark and smooth as glass tonight, with barely a crescent of moon to light it up tonight. He takes a seat nearby as thoughts drift through his head, some pleasant, but most aren't. Propping open his potions book, he glanced at a single line.

…collected under the cover of night. Why must details on potion ingredients they such nonsense sometimes? 

Well, he’ll have to try the same recipe with that particular ingredient as a variable, see if there is, literally, a night and day difference. So, tonight, Tristan is outside gathering some of what he’ll need to try making a polecat potion for that Demeter guy to try out.

What he wasn't counting on, though, was another person being out at night, too. He hears a voice saying something, though he's pretty sure that he's hallucinating from sleep deprivation by now. Anyway, he absently calls,

"Hello?"

It felt odd. Unloading this to Asher now after all of the times they have met.

It feels like he's known her for longer than he thought, but maybe because he has not shared all that much with her either. The two of them are not exactly open books, he realized, but he was willing to put in the effort for her. He didn't want people to know about what happened before camp and he did quite well hiding it. Only now, he was willing to share because of the person asking. With a snap of a finger. several candles lit up the room just as it was before he had arrived to interrupt her. Tristan was used to doing things on his own and living the solitary life. Her words felt reassuring and he was grateful for it, even though his appreciation didn't sound like it.

"Thank you."

He preferred not to go into detail about it but he was aware that she needed answers. Nothing like desensitizing himself. "At the time... I thought I didn't want her to hit me anymore. I didn't like the pain. I did feel threatened so I suppose I subconsciously needed protection of some sort. I felt afraid of her, Asher - yet I never wished for her death. Maybe that's why the book knocked her out." 

That's right. He hasn't told her yet.

He wouldn't perhaps hint it a couple of times how he got it during their little umbrakinesis study sessions. He was more afraid of her reaction if when he says he simply "used" the ability as if the shadows came into him without him needing to practice or master the concept of the power. Still, he had been devoting time in camp to study it and practicing with Asher just made it more transparent for him too. "Uhh... It happened on my tenth birthday. I was demonstrating to my friends some magic tricks. It wasn't our magic in any form, but more like illusion magic you'd see in street performances. My stepmother interrupted the show and her drunken banter scared me into my room. I locked the door but she forcefully opened it just so she could land a hit on me with a belt. But just as she was about to do that... the shadows came to my aid. She wasn't scared of the barrier that formed around me but she was more angry that she couldn't hit me. She was about to do it again when it was lifted, but a book flew and knocked her unconscious."

He drew a long sigh.

"It happened again when my father died on the same day. I used this power to retaliate against one of the hellhounds. Bolts of darkness," he paused, "Not the best birthday if you ask me. And on Halloween, no less. My father even put up the best decorations he could think of."

Witnessing this milestone became a big moment for him too. Even he did not know the actual steps to mastering umbrakinesis. It's no rocket science and perhaps they would have to know the properties of this power if they yearn to master it. For Tristan, it just came to him. That's it. Like a miracle - which is why he came to a stop when faced with the how during this process. He didn't want to have Asher think it was counterproductive, but her perseverance caught onto him as well. So when she snapped her finger, a black flame began burning. It wasn't hot, but it was cold - perfect for a shadow attribute. For some reason, he had a feeling she wanted to show this power off which was understandable after working for it for days without sleep.

"I suppose so, but the bigger the shadow, the more energy you are using. Just like the energy you're using to cast spells. I personally found myself using this power and then prolonging it to be very helpful. It's like you're allowing your body to get used to it." 

@ Arsen Harrington !

My cool big brother.  I like you, but only thing I can say is... talk to your sister! Sibling relationships are important and I know from experience... iykyk.

Tristan