1667 words, by google docs
i hate claudia. it's vic's fault she exists. prompts at the bottom.
thanks to ana for betaing! you're a doll, darling (and i'm from the fifties, apparently)
a couple of small notes/disclaimers: i don't have the blood of olympus book on me right now, so let's just call this au, as idk of will and nico's exact meeting
also: i do not have synesthesia. i'm going off wikipedia lol
'Synesthesia is a perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway.
Grapheme-color synesthesia: In one of the most common forms of synesthesia, individual letters of the alphabet and numbers are "shaded" or "tinged" with a color. While different individuals usually do not report the same colors for all letters and numbers, studies with large numbers of synesthetes find some commonalities across letters.
Lexical-gustatory synesthesia: This is another rare form of synesthesia where certain tastes are experienced when hearing words'
—Wikipedia
Will's having a chocolate-blue day until the earthquake hits.
He's not sad. The color blue isn't sad. Blue for him is happy. The word 'happy' is blue. It's the kind of blue of the sky right after it rains. The word happy has always been blue for Will. It's why he dislikes the definition of blue; blue isn't the color of 'sad'. Sad's color is a deep red. The color of blood. It also has some yellow and orange sprinkled in. The yellow and orange are from the 'a' and the 'd'. Sometimes the words do that. Sometimes the words are a mix of all the colors in the word. Happy is only a mix of two; the big 'h' and the two 'p's. They're both blue. 'H' is a deep blue. It's the color of the ocean. 'P' is a lighter blue. It's the color of a person's vein. Somehow they combine to make the perfect blue. Will supposes that the 'a' could also be mixed in—a buttercup yellow—but he's glad the 'y' isn't in the word's color; an orange color—just like the fruit—would ruin it completely.
The word happy also tastes like chocolate. It's the type of chocolate with pop rocks in it. They pop under his tongue and fill his mouth with the taste.
Will's not sure where the word's tastes come from—individual letters don't have tastes—but he enjoys them all the same.
Sometimes it's too much. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed by the colors invading his vision or the tastes overfilling his mouth. He wouldn't give it up for anything. He might get overwhelmed at the campfire or the dining area. It's still worth it. He also knows that everyone must deal with it; his siblings certainly do. It's how they make music and how they paint so beautifully. He's never talked to them about their colors or tastes. He hasn't talked to anybody about their colors. Not everybody needs to know his specific colors and tastes.
So Will's having a chocolate blue day. He probably shouldn't be. He knows that his friends are on a dangerous mission across the world to try and stop a war. He can't help it. Something inside of him just feels chocolatey blue.
Maybe it's the fact that despite everything, a new life is still brought into the world. Maybe it's because he's finally done delivering that little baby satyr. At least he was cute.
And then yellow engulfs his vision and he knows that's something's wrong. He hates yellow—something bad always happens when yellow appears. He knows that it's not normal—most people think that yellow is a happy color. They always assume that Will's favorite sweater is because he's a happy person—it's yellow—but yellow is the sound of death. It his most complex color—he never understands it—but whenever he sees yellow it means that someone's going to die. He almost wanted to murder his dad when his hair turned yellow after he got claimed—it happened to all children of Apollo. They literally got kissed by their dad as a claiming—sunkissed. He's perfectly fine with his boring old brown.
Death is why he wears yellow—it's reminder that no matter how hard he tries as a doctor, there's always going to be someone he can't save.
But sure. People can think it's because he's happy.
Yellow engulfs his vision as an earthquake hits the ground and it's accompanied by the taste of oranges. He's only gotten an orange taste once before and it makes him think of the last war he was in. The only war he was in.
The chocolatey blue feeling is gone. Will wonders if he'll get it back as he follows his siblings outside.
The ground is shaking.
Will's from the Ring of Fire. He's experienced lots of earthquakes when he was a kid. The ground is literally shaking now. This isn't a normal earthquake.
And then Cecil from the Hermes Cabin is grabbing Will's hand and pulling him along and the world is bursting into ten thousand different colors as people start talking.
Cecil tells him that the Romans have set up onagers on top of Gaea waking. Will doesn't really comprehend exactly what the onagers are—Cecil has a bad tendency to talk really fast—but he nods at Cecil's steady stream of raspberry green words. Green—the sound of panic. It was almost the same shade of the leaves on Thalia's tree. Raspberry—the sound of worry. Neither are good sounds.
Cecil pats Will's shoulder and goes off with Lou Ellen as Will goes around Thalia's tree.
He almost knocks straight into someone. They grab his arm and straighten him up before he falls over. His vision straightens and he sees the emo kid. He's only seen him around. He recalls a name—Nico.
Will likes the name Nico—the 'N' takes over the entire word and he loves the pleasant purple it causes. The color of the lilac flowers his sister Kayla loves. He wonders what the color of lilacs sounds like for her.
Nico talks to him and Will tries to pay attention. He ends up paying attention to the color and taste of Nico's voice instead. The color is a nice red—like a raspberry. Or a macintosh. Or Elmo. Or a strawberry. Or—it's a nice red. Will doesn't think he's ever heard such a pleasing color. And the taste of his voice—it reminds him of his mother's famous cookies: slightly-burnt-but-still-gooey-and-somehow-not-too-hot-but-not-too-cold-but-just-right.
Nico's voice is the literal taste of ambrosia.
Except Nico's voice also has yellow and oranges tainting it—death. It makes sense—Nico's the son of Hades—but it still makes Will uneasy. He can tell that Nico is becoming yellow before his eyes. Nico is dying. It's an absurd feeling—Will's never seen someone become a color—but Will's certain.
Nico and Will then go to disarm the onagers. They work well as a team. Each onager is released with a flash of ecru. He's never heard that color before.
And then the battle starts and Will feels like he can't breathe. People are yelling and Will is hearing ricey yellow. There are swords going against other swords and monsters and Will hears bright magenta cheetos. There's also hundreds of other colors and tastes Will can hear. They're going by so fast that Will can hardly identify them. There's mango-pink. There's seltzer-orange. There's Caesar salad-turquoise. Will also hears yellow. So much yellow.
He can't do it. He can't fight.
Will can see Nico move forward—he still looks yellow—but Will can't help but drop to the ground. Nico returns to Will's side when he realises that Will has stopped. Nico's throwing red chocolate-chip cookie words at Will. Will can't even hear them over all the colors and tastes.
How is Nico doing it? How is he being perfectly fine throughout the plethora of colors and tastes?
Does Nico not hear tastes? Does he not even hear colors?
Will collapses.
The war is over.
That's the first thing Will thinks as he opens his eyes. He's not hearing any more colors or tastes. Everything is quiet.
He turns slightly to his side and sees someone who is probably a demigod; he's never seen her in Camp Half Blood before.
"Is the war over?" he asks. His words give off a golden flash and a banana taste. He feels sore.
"Yup. I've been in here for a bit now. Both sides have a lot of injured. They haven't gotten to me." The girl has auburn hair. Her voice sounds like mocha. Will thinks that it's the first time someone's color and taste match.
Her news of someone being injured makes Will feel more awake. He tries to sit up before being overtaken by nausea.
"I need to help. I'm a medic."
"They said to stay here." Will decides right away that he hates both the taste and color of mocha. Who is this girl to tell him what to do? He needs to do his job.
"I'm Will Solace. I'm a son of Apollo. I'm a medic. I need to help." Will says all of this slowly to the girl. Maybe if he speaks slower she'll actually understand how important it is that he gets to his job.
"And I'm Claudia Anderson. Daughter of Apollo. I'm a musician. I'm injured so I'm waiting for help." Will can almost taste her dry tone—is there such a thing as dry mocha? "I got stabbed by a monster. It was fun." Claudia grins at Will. He doesn't return it. She can't be a daughter of Apollo; he knows all of his siblings.
"And I just heard too many colors. I'm fine. Just overwhelmed. Everyone has to deal with hearing all the colors and they're all fine!" Will insists. He sits up again. There's another wave of nausea that comes over him and he tries to force it down.
"Not everyone hears colors." Will pauses at Claudia's words. What? "Only children of Apollo can. I do."
"I—" Will falters. This is so weird to him. Not everyone hears colors? Another reason to resent his dad.
"It's synesthesia. A 'union of the senses'." Claudia sounds annoyed. He wonders if she also gets overwhelmed. "A gift from our dad. I'm a Roman daughter of Apollo." Oh. Well that explains Will's question. Are they friends with the Romans?
Will turns to Claudia to ask her how she knew this—he's never heard of this before—but Nico walks into the room. He still looks yellow. Nico opens his mouth to say something, but crumbles to the ground before he can get the words out.
"What's his problem?" Claudia asks. She's peering at Nico with a frown.
"I don't know." Will walks over to him slowly. "He looks yellow."
"No. He looks orange." Claudia's peering over from her spot on the bed.
"Yellow." Will frowns at her. "I see yellow."
"I see orange." Claudia turns her nose up. Will can't help but laugh. It feels good to have someone to talk to about all the colors.
There's always too many of them.
for:
quarter quell, round 5 [2. do not have characters address each other; 3. only three commas in entire fic; 8. at most two tense errors; 14. non mary-sue cliche oc; 15. angst story that's not overly dramatic]