Day 1

--- Jon ---

He woke up before his alarm actually went off. The reason being that he’d gotten into the habit of getting up earlier, than his already obscenely early schedule due to having to make sure the various traps around camp were clear of any corrupted remains the campers could stumble upon.

“Ugh…” Rolling out of bed, he did a couple of stretches, while being ever so slightly jealous of the fact that the slothful little fairy with him was still asleep and would likely sleep until noon.

Shaking his head, he climbed out of bed and got to work making breakfast to power him and his ma through the mandatory workout she was likely to put him through.

It’d been something of a morning ritual ever since she left the military to take care of him after his parents’ divorce. She’d wake him up about an hour before they actually had anything to do, and then would put him through a number of exercises to try and keep him in shape and trained should anything happen to him. And while he may’ve hated it originally, that didn’t change the fact that all of that training was the main reason he’d been able to survive the Beast of Blackwell’s attacks.

“Huh, wasn’t expecting you to be up already.” His ma told him from the kitchen entrance.

“Yeah, no, I’ve gotten into the habit of getting up a bit earlier. It was the only way to really get much time to myself at the camp, since I was helping out with the kids the rest of the day.” That was largely the truth.

“Hmm, makes sense.” His ma nodded, seemingly amused by something. “So, what did you end up making?”

“Well I lucked out and found a couple of eggs, that while borderline, aren’t actually rotten. Which with a bit of sugar, flour, and the half pint of milk from your coffee, meant I just barely had enough for a sort of muffin bake.” He explained, pulling a pan filled with pastry. “Still needs a minute to cool though.”

“Huh. Resourceful.” His ma admitted, seemingly impressed.

“Yeah, I picked up a couple of things around camp.” He agreed, still impressed by all the things he’d managed to make with semi-expired, or freshly hunted ingredients at Camp Bet. (Not sure if I’m better or worse off knowing what we were eating there.)

“Well, since it’s probably going to be a minute let’s go ahead and head on up to the roof.” His mother decided, not really waiting for a response.

“Right…” He sighed. “The more things change…”

Following his mother through their apartment building, he made his way up to the roof where a cheap deck had been set up for the various tenants to hang out on so long as they didn’t burn the thing to the ground.

(Which given all of the bottles and cigarettes is a legitimate concern.) He noted with just a touch of distaste, bred by the quartermaster’s near constant alcoholism.

Once they were near the center of the deck, his mother turned to face him with her arms raised in a knife fighter’s stance that held one hand half open in front of the upper chest and a closed fist near the stomach. One that he proceeded to match despite having picked up a preference for using his axe or knife over the summer.

His mother eyed him for a moment, making sure his stance hadn’t deteriorated the way it usually did during his summer breaks. (Or at least the ones I don’t have to spend fighting for my life anyway.)

Deciding that there was nothing wrong with his stance, his ma gave him an approving nod before rushing forward with a swipe of her imaginary knife, that he managed to sidestep before delivering a blow to her side and jumping back.

His mother seemed to pause for a moment, before turning back to him and resetting her stance. “Not bad.”

“So how was your summer?” He asked casually, knowing full well that his mother liked to talk during their spars just to throw him off.

His ma raised a brow, catching what he was doing, “About the same as it always is. How about you.”

“Mostly the same.” (If you exclude the magic and madness corrupted trying to kill me by various means all summer.) “Manage to catch any interesting cases at least?” He asked, pushing one of her blows to the side.

“Mm, nothing a kid like you should worry about.” His mother admitted, her eyes narrowing for just a moment before she shot out a series of quick jabs.

“So, more of the -argh- same old, same old?” He gasped, unable to block or dodge all of the jabs. (Should’ve remembered fighting a normal person is different from fighting a corrupted.)

There was a reason he largely stuck to arrows, traps, and stealth in his fights against those lost to insanity.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Yep.” His mother nodded, before taking a light kick to the knee as he blocked one of her swipes.

“Well, better than the royale, passing through.” He agreed as he hopped out of her immediate range after his first hit.

“Hmm.” His mother hummed noncommittally as she watched him carefully, not bothering to close the distance between them as she seemed to put a pause to their spar.

“Uh, what’s up?” He asked with more than a little caution, given how her usual ‘awareness’ training tended to make him extremely paranoid until he was sure their spar was actually over.

“You’re doing better than you usually do when coming back from camp.” His mother pointed out. “Normally, you’ve got a bit of rust from neglecting your training.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He nodded trying to think of a suitable half-truth. “A friend of mine asked for a couple of self-defense lessons. Said she was reaching that point where people are starting to notice her, whatever that means.”

All of that was true, though he’d later found out Ying had been lying about her reason because she’d noticed how twitchy he’d gotten back when he was the only one who knew about the Corrupted.

(She’d also lied about not knowing how to fight.) He learned that after she’d finally gotten fed up with his dodging of her questions, and decided the best solution was to just put a boot to his throat and press until he talked.

His mother was watching him again, though this time there was something other than her usual measuring gaze. “Kid, I can’t tell if your naïve or just a late bloomer.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” His ma sighed with a shake of her head.

Scene Consequences

-Thanks to Ma’s training gained 2XP to Combat.

--Currently: Lv. 5 (2/12)

-Grown a bit closer to Ma.

-Ma Whitaker will keep putting Jon through his paces each morning, granting a random bonus to his [Huntsman] skills each day.

---

Despite knowing his ma wouldn’t approve, and the fact that he technically didn’t need it anymore, he knew he wouldn’t be able to give up magic. Even if it was after just two months of using it.

He knew that was a bit dramatic, especially when compared to the Arcane who literally had magic as a part of their innate being. But he also knew it was the same as a number of his other skills.

Just because he didn’t need or even like to fight, didn’t mean the instinct to wasn’t ingrained into his being. The same went with the bits of tinkering and crafting he’d come to associate with his traps and potions, or even with his need to sneak around when no one was looking and listen to their steps as the walked around him.

Once he really learned something, it became a part of him that he just couldn’t give up.

(I wonder if that’s why the Cheshire took an interest in me?) That was a question he was honestly a little scared of learning the answer too.

Still what all of this meant was, he’d continue to practice all of his skills regardless of his mother’s actual opinion on the matter.

(Does this counts as my rebellious phase?) He couldn’t help but wonder as he began setting up his desk to both work as a magic station as well as to hide said station should his mother decide to take a look in his room. Something that was relatively easy given his talent for hiding his traps where the corrupted would walk right into them.

Unfortunately, by the time he’d finished setting everything up, it was probably too late for him to actually make any progress with said magic.

(Well, at the very least this means I can actually get something going tomorrow if nothing else.) He figured, watching as Pix began curiously inspecting this and that in an attempt to understand how he’d rigged everything to hide and pull out from his various drawers.

Scene Consequences

-Can now practice and train magic from home.

---

Once he was done setting up his workstation -and not trusting his mother to do it instead- he swiped some money from the surprisingly large stash he’d built up over the summer and made his way to a nearby general store, to restock on what he considered the bare minimum of groceries.

Now normally this wouldn’t be an event truly worthy of note.

The problem is madness itself had a distinct desire to fuck him over as much as meta-physically possible.

Hence why he was watching the scene before him with a basket full of groceries in hand.

In front of him was a female cashier around his age and a man. Nothing of particular note on that front, despite the fact that due to the day of the week and the time of the day the three of them were the only ones in the store, not that the other two seemed to notice him. (Which is really poor awareness on their part.)

What was worthy of note however was the fact that said man was pointing a gun at the girl who seemed quite frightened by the situation. (More so than I was in my first fight with a corrupted.)

He considered the scene for a moment more, before shaking his head and walking up behind the man with a gun in his hand.

“Pardon.” He said tapping the robber on the shoulder.

The robber half spun to face him, before receiving an elbow to the throat, having his gun ripped from his hand, and then being pistol whipped with said gun as he finally lost consciousness.

Shaking his head, Jon stepped over the downed robber as he set his basket on the counter.

He tapped his fingers on the counter for a moment, before realizing that the cashier seemed to be staring at him with a stressed blush to her face for some reason.

“Uh, if you don’t mind? I’ve still got to make dinner tonight.” He informed the cashier, causing the other teen to jump before rapidly nodding her head as she began to scan his items.

(Huh, weird…)

Scene Consequences

-Conflict was too low to gain viable experience.

-Gained groceries thus staving off starvation!

-Local reputation increased!