[SP-F17] Perfection is Overrated | <<Challenge of Olympus>>

[Acanthus 0]

This stuff is good. Weirdly good.

She worked at another patch of the lemgrass. Something about the lemgrass made it easy to gather, and she found herself with two more large handfuls.

Elpis had gathered all she needed, and was devouring a patch by the roots. Acanthus walked over and sat on a nearby rock, waiting for Elpis to finish.

Smacking her lips, Elpis laid down on a warm rock, hands behind her head. She looked up to Acanthus. “I gotta say, lemgrass isn’t always the answer. But when I’m in the mood, nothing else hits the spot.”

Laughing, Acanthus said, “I wonder if we should bring some back to Apollo. Maybe all he needs is to eat a little. Then he can give me an easier quest.” Elpis’ big goat ears perked up. “I’ll tell you something, that’s not a bad idea! I mean, it’s not a song, but a little lemgrass never did anybody wrong! Although,” she added, “gods don’t really eat. They drink ambrosia, but that’s not really food. I think. We’re not allowed to touch the stuff.”

Acanthus stood up. “It was just a thought. Where are we off to next?” Elpis grinned. “The quarry.”

“Why are you smiling like that?”
 

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226001 | LD 16 | CD 7. Critical Success. (2) materials gained. +16 EXP 72/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

When they cleared the ridge and laid eyes on the quarry, Acanthus’ knees nearly gave out. She grabbed onto Elpis. “Oh c’mon! It’s really not that bad!”

But it was. When Acanthus heard “the quarry,” she expected a small, active surface mine, just a few meters deep. Instead, she gazed into a deep pit; so deep, she swore there was no bottom.

“This isn’t a quarry.” Elpis shrugged. “It used to be. But they ran out of marble, and flooded the bottom with water. Look, you can see the structures all around the pit.”

Sure enough, rickety wooden structures spiraled from the bottom of the quarry all the way to the rim where they stood. Those platforms are one stiff breeze away from collapsing. Even the gentle wind at the top caused the platforms to creak and groan ominously.

“Why are we here, Elpis? The quarry is closed.”

“Because you can still find some good stuff. Just not in a ‘mine it and ship it’ amounts.” She bent down and crushed a rock with a single stomp of her hoof, then held it up. “See?”

The inside of the rock was a beautiful sky blue. “Godsbreath lapis!” Elpis remarked. “Beautiful, and even has some interesting reactive properties. Give it a try.”

Acanthus knelt over and sifted for a few of the rocks. Rock after rock she picked up, only for Elpis to shake her head. She wasn't doing a great job with picking them out so far.

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226002 | LD 3 | CD 6. Failure. +3 EXP 75/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus sifted through the rocks to try and find the lapis. She had trouble distinguishing them even still; she hadn't developed a knack for picking them out yet. A horrible groan filled her ears, and her eyes darted around for the source.

The quarry structures. She had gotten close enough that the faint creaks had turned into terrifying noises. Acanthus rolled over to her backside and began scooting away. She was convinced that even being close would cause the thin wooden platforms to disintegrate.

Elpis was determined to prove her wrong. Whooping, she sprinted down to the quarry, running straight for a long platform that stretched to nearly the middle point of the hole. Acanthus cringed and waited for the whole thing to come down.

But it didn’t. As Elpis galloped down the walkway, she let out a cheerful bleat. The sound of hooves on wood ceased as she jumped straight into the pit. Acanthus sucked in air—her eyes went wide as Elpis disappeared.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard a splash, and Elpis laughing gleefully.

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226003 | LD 3 | CD 3. Failure. +3 EXP 78/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

“Aren’t you supposed to be guarding me?!? Don’t get yourself killed!!” Acanthus yelled from the comfort of the ridge above. She didn’t even want to approach the rim.

“Smooth your feathers, worry bird! I’ll be right up!!” After a few minutes, Acanthus heard the distant sound of groaning wood. It grew louder as Elpis climbed the platforms out of the hole.

“That never gets old.”

“That’s interesting, because I think it would take years off my life.”

Elpis wrung the water out of her hair and looked at Acanthus mischievously. “You wouldn’t know until you tried. Go on. I bet you won’t even look over the rim.”

Indignant, Acanthus stood up. “I can certainly look over the rim. Maybe I’ll even take the leap.” Elpis snorted. “Rim’s right there, fearless princess.”

Acanthus distracted herself by picking through the stones for more Godsbreath. She was finally getting the hang of it, and plucked a few from the ground and into her pocket. Finally, she worked up the courage to crawl onto the wooden platform. It swayed precariously, and Acanthus’ knuckles went white holding onto the beams.

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226004 | LD 16 | CD 3. Success. (1) material gained. +8 EXP 86/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus realized that the hole was not as deep as she initially thought. It about ten meters to the water—about an Olympic high-dive. With the water there was certainly no chance of fall damage. Not that the notion helped. 

Her stomach flipped as she had the sensation of being lifted high into the air. Elpis had picked her up like a sack of rice and was holding her aloft. Acanthus shrieked.

“Elpis, not funny! Put me down! ELPIS!”

Her mischievous grin had morphed into full-on chicanery. “You said you might leap! I’m just giving you a preview!” Acanthus wriggled, trying to free herself. Wait, bad idea. Escaping now meant an inevitable tumble. “I won’t toss you! All you have to do is say the magic words, ‘Elpis, you were right, I am scared of heights.’”

“You *goat*! I am not–I will not–” Elpis cackled. “That’s all you have to say. Admit you’re scared of heights.”

[Acanthus 0]

“This is a hostage situation! Unfair! Let me go!” 

But Elpis showed no signs of tiring. She easily held Acanthus high above her head. “Listen, girl. I’m giving you a fair chance. Say the words, and I’ll walk you back over to the rim. We can both move on, and only one of us gets wet from the quarry.”

“This is cruel, and I will not give in!”

“You’re not telling me no.”

“I shouldn’t have to! You are my bodyguard, so guard me!”

Elpis eyed the distance down. “It’s completely safe. I jump in here every week. Plenty of satyrs do.”

“Well I’m not a satyr! So let me go!”

“Say the magic words, and I’ll do just that.”

Acanthus could not turn around to face Elpis, but she just knew she had a shit-eating grin on her face.

“C’mon girl. You know the words. Say them to me.”

Acanthus took a deep breath and prepared herself. What she said next shocked them both.

“Fuck you. Throw me.”
 

[Acanthus 0]

With a full-bodied laugh, Elpis brought her arms back and launched Acanthus into the hole. Acanthus screamed at the top of her lungs. From the top of the quarry, Elpis’s words echoed down as she fell: tuck your arms and legs! Instinctively, Acanthus followed her directions. Exhale through your nose as you hit the water. Give yourself a moment, then orient yourself and swim for the surface.

She fought the urge to gasp as she hit the water. It was ice cold. Her eyes snapped open, and the beauty of the quarry hit her fully. The light from above sparkled in the water below. Scores of fish and plants floated around her. The sounds of creaking wood had been replaced by the gentle pulse of water in her ears. She noticed the plethora of materials underneath the water, and worked to pull some of the sparkling silt from the floor. She was too dazzled by the beauty of the light shining through the water, and let the silt slip absentmindedly through her fingers.

Acanthus swam up to the surface and took a deep breath. Elpis had run all the way down the stairs already, hand outstretched. “Great dive! I barely saw a splash. Looks like I lost that bet.”

Acanthus shook her head. “I don’t think I would have done it if you hadn’t given me that little push. Throw, rather.”

Elpis smiled. “But you made the trip out to the rim yourself. Call it what you want: physical reaction or fear. You conquered it. Does the rest matter?”

Acanthus bobbed in the water. “No. It doesn’t, does it?”

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226005 | LD 5 | CD 1. Failure. +3 EXP 89/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

The two swam for another hour. Acanthus even went back up and jumped into the quarry one more time. She also explored the bottom of the pool a little longer. Finding some interesting seaweed, she tried pulling a few strands. It came up much easier than the silt. Two massive bundles ripped from the ground, and she placed them in her inventory.

Back at the top of the quarry, the two sat on the shoddy platforms, legs dangling.

“Elpis, thanks.” The bodyguard smiled and beat her chest. “Hey, you trusted me back there! I wasn’t going to let any harm come to you. You needed a little push, you just didn’t know it.”

“If I didn’t know, then how did you?” Elpis shrugged. “I think a lot of people are their own biggest blind spot. I mean, even the gods sometimes don’t know what they want until they get it.” Acanthus had an epiphany. The moral of the story may be a little bit on the nose, but I think I have it.

“Elpis, I’m ready to go back.”

 

Spoiler

 

Post Action: Gathering Materials

Roll ID 226006 | LD 16 | CD 8. Critical success. (2) materials gained. +16 EXP 95/49

 

 

Edited August 14 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Once more in Apollo’s chambers, Acanthus stood ready, lute in hand. The muses were arrayed behind her in anticipation. Apollo sat on his couch like a statue. I don’t think he’s moved since I left. The same goblet swirled in his hands.

“Did you find the perfect song? Better than that saccharine trash you were playing before, I hope.”

She began to tune her strings. Or rather, she began to detune them. Just a little bit. Just enough to be silly.

“Oh glorious Apollo, whose visage is marred by the wolves of apathy,” she began. “I have the perfect song for you.” She was trembling. She could barely keep her fingers on the instrument.

A week ago she had picked up the instrument and played her first song. Now, she was standing in front of the god of music, and she was about to improvise the silliest song she could come up with.

[Acanthus 0]

The song doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be perfect for him—what he needs. And what he needs is something to cheer him up.

“Right on, rockergirl. It’s not my usual jam, but everyone’s got different tastes. The trick is feeling out your audience on the fly. That’s the sign of a great performer.”

She had wondered what to do about lyrics. She was a thoughtful person, but a poor lyrical improviser. In the end, she settled on an unorthodox solution.

“Before I begin… Thalia?” The muse of comedy jumped. “Would you do me the honor of being ridiculous?”

Her eyes gleamed with ambition. “Comedy is my middle name. Well, I guess it’s really my last name. More of a moniker or title, really—”

Acanthus’ hand crashed down into the lute, it made an inspiringly terrible sound. Mimicking Landon as best she could, she posed with the lute in the same way he made his initial entrance. Tuned just enough to carry a melody, her lute garbled like a toddler blowing milk bubbles. Picking up on the melody, Thalia quickly began to improvise equally ridiculous lyrics. And she was good. She swapped meters as the song drunkenly stumbled through time signatures. Thalia even added some physical comedy, and Acanthus was able to play off of her movements with quick, stilted riffs.
 

[Acanthus 0]

For some reason, Acanthus imagined the lemgrass as she played. Down to earth, slightly sweet—the kind of thing that would cheer anybody up. This is not like me at all. But Landon says performance is about the audience, and this is what Apollo needs, whether he knows it or not.

Apollo, to his credit, was not looking at the goblet anymore. His eyes shifted from Acanthus to Thalia, and back to Acanthus. His face remained impassive.

She wondered what her family would think of if they saw her like this: mashing horrible chords on a lute in the middle of Olympus while a Muse pantomimed some truly obscene gestures. Koji would be getting a kick out of this. I don’t think he’d ever let me live it down. Mom would be her characteristically quiet self. I think she’d just say it was nice and hope I’d never do it again.

[Acanthus 0]

Then she thought of dad. “Back straight, fingers bent, practice-makes-perfect” dad. I think he would have left the show already. If I were lucky, he’d speak to me the next day.

In an unplanned moment of comedy, Acanthus’ lute popped two strings at a half-cadence, ending the tune on a sudden question mark. Thalia, quick on the cue, ended her verse about Zeus’ lascivious habits mid-syllable. The room stood in utter silence. The performers became the audience as they watched Apollo for any indication of success.

He giggled.

The feeling of air came back into the room as all nine muses and Acanthus breathed in together. Apollo sat up in his chair. His face was once again neutral, but he no longer reposed decedantly. He sat fully in his chair, his goblet set on the end table nearby.

“You have done well, my performer. You correctly deduced that the perfect song was not one that was objectively or mathematically ideal. It was the song that I needed in that moment.”

[Acanthus 0]

He stood up, and walked over to a chest in the corner of his room. As he rifled through its contents, he continued speaking.

“I asked you for the perfect song because a performer must understand there is no perfect song. There is only what the audience needs. Sometimes, you must provide a song of healing; other times, your songs must inflict pain, or inspire prosperity. But you must always sing as though that song is the perfect song.” He withdrew a small, wooden metronome from the chest, and returned to Acanthus. She was now aware of how tall Apollo was—easily twice her height. The metronome that appeared small in his hands went up to her knees.

“You have completed my task and are worthy of one of my metronomes. But I ask you one final question: why do you think I had you compliment me?” Acanthus pursed her lips, fighting the urge to say something rude.

[Acanthus 0]

“It is because as a performer, there will be times you are called to say things you do not believe to people that you do not like.” Apollo knelt down and met her gaze. “You are called to sing happy thoughts when you are sad. You must play mournful tunes when you do not have a care in the world. Whether or not your feelings in that moment are real, you must believe in them. It is the only way your performance will truly carry its meaning to those who hear.” Apollo smiled, and his face shone like the sun emerging from behind the clouds.

“You have come so far in such a short time. Given time, your music may even rival mine. Go now, and take my metronome as a mark of my approval.”

“You will also be a guest of honor at our evening Banquet. Others who have recently earned the favor of the gods will be rewarded at the banquet as well.”

Oh god. A party. “I am deeply humbled, Majestic Lord Apollo, but I’m afraid I have nothing but rags to wear, so I cannot—”

“Oh, oh! Not to worry! I’ve got you covered!” Thalia practically lept out of the line of muses. “I know just the dress! We’ll have you sorted out for the banquet!”

[Acanthus 0]

Getting prepared for the party was not the ordeal she had expected. All nine muses fussed over her—attention she normally would have wilted under, but they seemed content to talk amongst themselves for the most part. They consulted her on any decisions made to dress her up, but Acanthus found the direct questions easy to answer.

“What about this dress? I think it suits you so well.”

The dress in question made Acanthus blush. It was a gorgeous floor-length strapless gown the color of the afternoon sky. The sleeves were emblazoned with floral motifs, and the silver accessories gleamed with sapphires set in intricate linework.

“It’s… nice.” Truthfully, Acanthus couldn’t find the words to describe the dress. She found it so beautiful it left her speechless. It was the kind of dress a princess would wear in a storybook, and she wasn’t a princess. She was just some dusty adventurer that had conquered Apollo’s challenge. Really, I’m a dead-end office worker in Tokyo. Acanthus has the sudden, desperate feeling that the moment she wore the dress, everyone would realize she was a fraud. They would realize the dress was made for someone prettier, more adventurous, braver—

“I think… I think the shoulders feel a little exposed. Maybe something else.” The muses sighed, but set the dress aside.

[Acanthus 0]

From time to time, they would playfully drag her into one side of their sisterly disputes, and just as quickly move onto more banter. They argued like siblings, and listening to them made her miss Koji. He would have been eager to disagree with any side Acanthus had just taken on principle. He once ate a plate full of mushrooms just to prove a point to Acanthus. He hated mushrooms. I miss that little idiot.

Melpomene stopped teasing the messy bun long enough to look over Acanthus’ shoulder. “I’m sensing some negative emotion.” Calliope shot her a look. “Mel, you say that all the time. Just because you’re the muse of tragedy doesn’t mean everything is tragic.” She looked at Acanthus. “...Right?”

Acanthus returned a bittersweet smile. “I’m fine. You all just remind me of the things I left behind to become an adventurer.” Melpomene glared triumphantly at Calliope, but as she opened her mouth, Clio interrupted. “Oh, tell us everything! I want to hear about it all! Did you leave riches? Fame? Looooove?” Acanthus did not appreciate the emphasis on the last word. “None of those things. I left my brother.”

[Acanthus 0]

As if on cue, all nine muses moved around to the front of Acanthus and settled in. They then looked at her, expecting a speech. She began to feel nervous.

“I mean, he’s like any other little brother. He’s stupid, but I love him.”

“So your little brother is Euterpe?” Thalia piped up. The muses giggled—except for Euterpe. Acanthus laughed as well. “I wish. He isn’t the muse of flutes.” She paused. “Actually, he’s not allowed near them anymore.” The Euterpe leaned in with a look equal parts intrigued and concerned. “Oh?”

“It was my first day of high school, and mom and dad took me to the music store to choose an instrument…”

Acanthus couldn’t have asked for a better audience. They hung on to her every word, laughing and gasping at the appropriate moments. When Acanthus told them *where* Koji had put the flute, Thalia was doubled over braying with infectious laughter. Euterpe, on the other hand, fainted into Calliope’s arms.

[Acanthus 0]

“... And after the third letter, dad thought the best thing to do would be to just ignore any more threats. So that’s how my entire family was banned from the entire chain of music stores.”

“Your brother,” Thalia wiped tears as she talked, “is my hero. I didn’t even know flutes could do that.”

“I wish I didn’t know flutes could do that,” said Euterpe solemnly.

Terpsichore stood suddenly. “Apollo will be here soon! And we haven’t even finished!” Color drained from Acanthus’s face. “Wait, why is he coming here? I thought I was meeting him at the banquet.” Terpichore clucked. “You’re the guest of honor! Apollo is coming to escort you there!”

Acanthus nearly fainted. She was so distracted that she didn’t even realize Thalia and Erato snuck her into the sky-colored dress. All she remembered was waiting at the door, hands clasped, feeling uncontrollably clammy. The muses poked and prodded one more time, putting the last touches on her hair and jewelry. In a flash, they disappeared, and the door opened to Apollo.

[Acanthus 0]

I’m not allowed to be jealous of a computer program. I’m NOT allowed to be jealous of a computer program.

Apollo, despite now being human height, seemed more lordly than ever. He wore a shining golden tuxedo and thick, velvet purple tie. Acanthus would have refused to believe such a thing could be anything but garish until she saw him wearing it. If anything, the tuxedo was muted when pitted against his long blonde hair and golden eyes. Those eyes currently burned holes into Acanthus. She covered her shoulders.

“Is everything alright?” Acanthus averted her gaze. She fought to control her doubts. None of this is real anyways, right? Just try to forget how you haven’t ever worn anything this nice, or been to a formal party, or been escorted by anyone, much less a god.

“Yes.”

Apollo gave a brief smile. She felt her silver brooch heat in the warmth of the sun. “You picked an excellent dress—one of my favorites. It was a gift from Persephone.”

“Um, thank you. I think I’m ready to go.”

Edited August 13 by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Apollo offered his hand out to her. Acanthus froze with uncertainty. “Thank you, but I can walk upright.” Upright? Who talks like that? She heard Thalia s[censored] from the back of the room. Apollo chuckled as well. “I have no doubt, little hyacinth. Even still, allow me the honor.” Slowly, she reached out. With a practiced motion, Apollo eased his hand up to his chest, leading hers to be draped on his arm. She heard Thalia from the room once more. “So red, she looks sunburned!” Half the muses shushed her while the other half tittered at the joke. Acanthus did feel so red that she might have been a rose. Apollo merely gave her one last look, as if to ask her permission. With a single nod from Acanthus, the pair strode off towards the banquet. “Our wing is one of the furthest from the banquet hall, so I had to be early, unless you were hoping to sprint in your formal wear.”